TO THE LIGHTHOUSEarrive at a perfectly clear understanding of the prob-lem which now engaged the energies of his splendidmind.

It was a splendid mind. For if thought is like thekeyboard of a piano, divided into so many notes, orlike the alphabet is ranged in twenty-six letters all inorder, then his splendid mind had no sort of difficultyin running over those letters one by one, firmly andaccurately, until it had reached, say, the letter Q. Hereached Q. Very few people in the whole of Englandever reach Q. Here, stopping for one moment by thestone urn which held the geraniums, he saw, but nowfar far away, like children picking up shells, divinelyinnocent and occupied with little trifles at their feetand somehow entirely defenceless against a doom whichhe perceived, his wife and son, together, in the window.They needed his protection; he gave it them. Butafter Q? What comes next? After Q there are a num-ber of letters the last of which is scarcely visible to mor-tal eyes, but glimmers red in the distance. Z is onlyreached once by one man in a generation. Still, if hecould reach R it would be something. Here at leastwas Q. He dug his heels in at Q. Q he was sure of.Q he could demonstrate. If Q then is Q — R — Herehe knocked his pipe out, with two or three resonanttaps on the ram’s horn which made the handle of theurn, and proceeded. ‘Then R . . .’ He braced himself.He clenched himself.

Qualities that would have saved a ship’s companyexposed on a broiling sea with six biscuits and a flaskof water — endurance and justice, foresight, devotion,skill, came to his help. R is then — what is R?

A shutter, like the leathern eyelid of a lizard, flickered42
Resize Images  

Select Pane

Berg Materials
 

View Pane