"It's about archery," he said, "and I don't mind telling you, because I know you will not go about telling everybody else, and also because I want to see you succeed as an archer.""I am very much obliged," I said, "and what is the discovery?""It's this," he answered. "When you draw your bow, bring the nock of your arrow"--he was always very particular about technical terms--"well up to your ear. Having done that, don't bother any more about your right hand. It has nothing to do with the correct pointing of your arrow, for it must be kept close to your right ear, just as if it were screwed there. Then with your left hand bring around the bow so that your fist--with the arrow-head, which is resting on top of it--shall point, as nearly as you can make it, directly at the centre of the target. Then let fly, and ten to one you'll make a hit. Now, what do you think of that for a discovery? I've thoroughly tested the plan, and it works splendidly.""I think," said I, "that you have discovered the way in which good archers shoot. You have stated the correct method of managing a bow and arrow.""Then you don't think it's an original method with me?""Certainly not," I answered.
"But it's the correct way?"
"There's no doubt of that," said I.
"Well," said Pepton, "then I shall make it my way."He did so, and the consequence was that one day, when the champion happened to be away, Pepton won the badge. When the result was announced, we were all surprised, but none so much so as Pepton himself. He had been steadily improving since he had adopted a good style of shooting, but he had had no idea that he would that day be able to win the badge.
When our president pinned the emblem of success upon the lapel of his coat, Pepton turned pale, and then he flushed. He thanked the president, and was about to thank the ladies and gentlemen; but probably recollecting that we had had nothing to do with it,--unless, indeed, we had shot badly on his behalf,--he refrained. He said little, but I could see that he was very proud and very happy. There was but one drawback to his triumph:
Miss Rosa was not there. She was a very regular attendant, but for some reason she was absent on this momentous afternoon. Idid not say anything to him on the subject, but I knew he felt this absence deeply.
But this cloud could not wholly overshadow his happiness. He walked home alone, his face beaming, his eyes sparkling, and his good bow under his arm.
That evening I called on him, for I thought that when he had cooled down a little he would like to talk over the affair.
But he was not in. Miss Maria said that he had gone out as soon as he had finished his dinner, which he had hurried through in a way which would certainly injure his digestion if he kept up the practice; and dinner was late, too, for they waited for him, and the archery meeting lasted a long time today; and it really was not right for him to stay out after the dew began to fall with only ordinary shoes on, for what's the good of knowing how to shoot a bow and arrow, if you're laid up in your bed with rheumatism or disease of the lungs? Good old lady! She would have kept Pepton in a green baize bag, had such a thing been possible.
The next morning, full two hours before church-time, Pepton called on me. His face was still beaming. I could not help smiling.
"Your happiness lasts well," I said.
"Lasts!" he exclaimed. "Why shouldn't it last!""There's no reason why it should not--at least, for a week,"I said, "and even longer, if you repeat your success."I did not feel so much like congratulating Pepton as I had on the previous evening. I thought he was ****** too much of his badge-winning.
"Look here!" said Pepton, seating himself, and drawing his chair close to me, "you are shooting wild--very wild indeed. You don't even see the target. Let me tell you something. Last evening I went to see Miss Rosa. She was delighted at my success. I had not expected this. I thought she would be pleased, but not to such a degree. Her congratulations were so warm that they set me on fire.""They must have been very warm indeed," I remarked.
"`Miss Rosa,' said I," continued Pepton, without regarding my interruption, "`it has been my fondest hope to see you wear the badge.' `But I never could get it, you know,' she said. `You have got it,' I exclaimed. `Take this. I won it for you. Make me happy by wearing it.' `I can't do that,' she said. `That is a gentleman's badge.' `Take it,' I cried, `gentleman and all!'
"I can't tell you all that happened after that," continued Pepton. "You know, it wouldn't do. It is enough to say that she wears the badge. And we are both her own--the badge and I!"Now I congratulated him in good earnest. There was a reason for it.
"I don't owe a snap now for shooting an eagle," said Pepton, springing to his feet and striding up and down the floor. "Let 'em all fly free for me. I have made the most glorious shot that man could make. I have hit the gold--hit it fair in the very centre! And what's more, I've knocked it clean out of the target! Nobody else can ever make such a shot. The rest of you fellows will have to be content to hit the red, the blue, the black, or the white. The gold is mine!"I called on the old ladies, some time after this, and found them alone. They were generally alone in the evenings now. We talked about Pepton's engagement, and I found them resigned.
They were sorry to lose him, but they wanted him to be happy.
"We have always known," said Miss Martha, with a little sigh, "that we must die, and that he must get married. But we don't intend to repine. These things will come to people." And her little sigh was followed by a smile, still smaller.
