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THE MESSENGERS
THE MESSENGERS
By Richard Harding Davis
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THE MESSENGERS
When Ainsley first moved to Lone Lake Farm all of his friends asked
him the same question。 They wanted to know； if the farmer who sold it
to him had abandoned it as worthless； how one of the idle rich； who could
not distinguish a plough from a harrow； hoped to make it pay？ His
answer was that he had not purchased the farm as a means of getting richer
by honest toil； but as a retreat from the world and as a test of true
friendship。 He argued that the people he knew accepted his hospitality at
Sherry's because； in any event； they themselves would be dining within a
taxicab fare of the same place。 But if to see him they travelled all the
way to Lone Lake Farm； he might feel assured that they were friends
indeed。
Lone Lake Farm was spread over many acres of rocky ravine and
forest； at a point where Connecticut approaches New York； and between it
and the nearest railroad station stretched six miles of an execrable wood
road。 In this wilderness； directly upon the lonely lake； and at a spot
equally distant from each of his boundary lines； Ainsley built himself a red
brick house。 Here； in solitude； he exiled himself； ostensibly to become a
gentleman farmer； in reality to wait until Polly Kirkland had made up her
mind to marry him。
Lone Lake； which gave the farm its name； was a pond hardly larger
than a city block。 It was fed by hidden springs； and fringed about with
reeds and cat…tails； stunted willows and shivering birch。 From its surface
jutted points of the same rock that had made farming unremunerative； and
to these miniature promontories and islands Ainsley； in keeping with a
fancied resemblance； gave such names as the Needles； St。 Helena； the Isle
of Pines。 From the edge of the pond that was farther from the house rose
a high hill； heavily wooded。 At its base； oak and chestnut trees spread
their branches over the water； and when the air was still were so clearly
reflected in the pond that the leaves seemed to float upon the surface。 To
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THE MESSENGERS
the smiling expanse of the farm the lake was what the eye is to the human
countenance。 The oaks were its eyebrows； the fringe of reeds its lashes；
and； in changing mood； it flashed with happiness or brooded in sombre
melancholy。 For Ainsley it held a deep attraction。 Through the summer
evenings； as the sun set； he would sit on the brick terrace and watch the
fish leaping； and listen to the venerable bull…frogs croaking false alarms of
rain。 Indeed； after he met Polly Kirkland； staring moodily at the lake
became his favorite form of exercise。 With a number of other men；
Ainsley was very much in love with Miss Kirkland； and unprejudiced
friends thought that if she were to choose any of her devotees； Ainsley
should be that one。 Ainsley heartily agreed in this opinion； but in
persuading Miss Kirkland to share it he had not been successful。 This
was partly his own fault； for when he dared to compare what she meant to
him with what he had to offer her he became a mass of sodden humility。
Could he have known how much Polly Kirkland envied and admired his
depth of feeling； entirely apart from the fact that she herself inspired that
feeling； how greatly she wished to care for him in the way he cared for her；
life； even alone in the silences of Lone Lake； would have been a beautiful
and blessed thing。 But he was so sure she was the most charming and
most wonderful girl in all the world； and he an unworthy and despicable
being； that when the lady demurred； he faltered； and his pleading； at least
to his own ears； carried no conviction。
〃When one thinks of being married；〃 said Polly Kirkland gently； 〃it
isn't a question of the man you can live with； but the man you can't live
without。 And I am sorry； but I've not found that man。〃
〃I suppose；〃 returned Ainsley gloomily； 〃that my not being able to live
without you doesn't affect the question in the least？〃
〃You HAVE lived without me；〃 Miss Kirkland pointed out
reproachfully； 〃for thirty years。〃
〃Lived！〃 almost shouted Ainsley。 〃Do you call THAT living？ What
was I before I met you？ I was an ignorant beast of the field。 I knew as
much about living as one of the cows on my farm。 I could sleep twelve
hours at a stretch； or； if I was in New York； I NEVER slept。 I was a Day
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THE MESSENGERS
and Night Bank of health and happiness； a great； big； useless puppy。 And
now I can't sleep； can't eat； can't thinkexcept of you。 I dream about you
all night； think about you all day； go through the woods calling your name；
cutting your initials in tree trunks； doing all the fool things a man does
when he's in love； and I am the most miserable man in the worldand the
happiest！〃
He finally succeeded in making Miss Kirkland so miserable also that
she decided to run away。 Friends had planned to spend the early spring
on the Nile and were eager that she should accompany them。 To her the
separation seemed to offer an excellent method of discovering whether or
not Ainsley was the man she could not 〃live without。〃
Ainsley saw in it only an act of torture； devised with devilish cruelty。
〃What will happen to me；〃 he announced firmly； 〃is that I will plain
DIE！ As long as I can see you； as long as I have the chance to try and
make you understand that no one can possibly love you as I do； and as
long as I know I am worrying you to death； and no one else is； I still hope。
I've no right to hope； still I do。 And that one little chance keeps me alive。
But Egypt！ If you escape to Egypt； what hold will I have on you？ You
might as well be in the moon。 Can you imagine me writing love…letters
to a woman in the moon？ Can I send American Beauty roses to the ruins
of Karnak？ Here I can telephone you； not that I ever have anything to say
that you want to hear