Five　Tales
  by　John　Galsworthy
  〃Life　calls　the　tune；　we　dance。〃
  CONTENTS：
  THE　FIRST　AND　LAST
  A　STOIC
  THE　APPLE　TREE
  THE　JURYMAN
  INDIAN　SUMMER　OF　A　FORSYTE
  THE　FIRST　AND　LAST
  〃So　the　last　shall　be　first；　and　the　first　last。〃HOLY　WRIT。
  It　was　a　dark　room　at　that　hour　of　six　in　the　evening；　when　just　the　single　oil　reading…lamp　under　its　green　shade　let　fall　a　dapple　of　light　over　the　Turkey　carpet；　over　the　covers　of　books　taken　out　of　the　bookshelves；　and　the　open　pages　of　the　one　selected；　over　the　deep　blue　and　gold　of　the　coffee　service　on　the　little　old　stool　with　its　Oriental　embroidery。　　Very　dark　in　the　winter；　with　drawn　curtains；　many　rows　of　leather…bound　volumes；　oak…panelled　walls　and　ceiling。　　So　large；　too；　that　the　lighted　spot　before　the　fire　where　he　sat　was　just　an　oasis。　　But　that　was　what　Keith　Darrant　liked；　after　his　day's　workthe　hard　early　morning　study　of　his　〃cases；〃　the　fret　and　strain　of　the　day　in　court；　it　was　his　rest；　these　two　hours　before　dinner；　with　books；　coffee；　a　pipe；　and　sometimes　a　nap。　In　red　Turkish　slippers　and　his　old　brown　velvet　coat；　he　was　well　suited　to　that　framing　of　glow　and　darkness。　　A　painter　would　have　seized　avidly　on　his　clear…cut；　yellowish　face；　with　its　black　eyebrows　twisting　up　over　eyesgrey　or　brown；　one　could　hardly　tell；　and　its　dark　grizzling　hair　still　plentiful；　in　spite　of　those　daily　hours　of　wig。　　He　seldom　thought　of　his　work　while　he　sat　there；　throwing　off　with　practised　ease　the　strain　of　that　long　attention　to　the　multiple　threads　of　argument　and　evidence　to　be　disentangled　work　profoundly　interesting；　as　a　rule；　to　his　clear　intellect；　trained　to　almost　instinctive　rejection　of　all　but　the　essential；　to　selection　of　what　was　legally　vital　out　of　the　mass　of　confused　tactical　and　human　detail　presented　to　his　scrutiny；　yet　sometimes　tedious　and　wearing。　　As　for　instance　to…day；　when　he　had　suspected　his　client　of　perjury；　and　was　almost　convinced　that　he　must　throw　up　his　brief。　　He　had　disliked　the　weak…looking；　white…faced　fellow　from　the　first；　and　his　nervous；　shifty　answers；　his　prominent　startled　eyesa　type　too　common　in　these　days　of　canting　tolerations　and　weak　humanitarianism；　no　good；　no　good！
  Of　the　three　books　he　had　taken　down；　a　Volume　of　Voltairecurious　fascination　that　Frenchman　had；　for　all　his　destructive　irony！a　volume　of　Burton's　travels；　and　Stevenson's　〃New　Arabian　Nights；〃　he　had　pitched　upon　the　last。　　He　felt；　that　evening；　the　want　of　something　sedative；　a　desire　to　rest　from　thought　of　any　kind。　　The　court　had　been　crowded；　stuffy；　the　air；　as　he　walked　home；　soft；　sou'…westerly；　charged　with　coming　moisture；　no　quality　of　vigour　in　it；　he　felt　relaxed；　tired；　even　nervy；　and　for　once　the　loneliness　of　his　house　seemed　strange　and　comfortless。
  Lowering　the　lamp；　he　turned　his　face　towards　the　fire。　　Perhaps　he　would　get　a　sleep　before　that　boring　dinner　at　the　Tellasson's。　　He　wished　it　were　vacation；　and　Maisie　back　from　school。　　A　widower　for　many　years；　he　had　lost　the　habit　of　a　woman　about　him；　yet　to…night　he　had　a　positive　yearning　for　the　society　of　his　young　daughter；　with　her　quick　ways；　and　bright；　dark　eyes。　　Curious　what　perpetual　need　of　a　woman　some　men　had！　　His　brother　Laurencewastedall　through　womenatrophy　of　willpower！　　A　man　on　the　edge　of　things；　living　from　hand　to　mouth；　his　gifts　all　down　at　heel！　　One　would　have　thought　the　Scottish　strain　might　have　saved　him；　and　yet；　when　a　Scotsman　did　begin　to　go　downhill；　who　could　go　faster？　　Curious　that　their　mother's　blood　should　have　worked　so　differently　in　her　two　sons。　　He　himself　had　always　felt　he　owed　all　his　success　to　it。
  His　thoughts　went　off　at　a　tangent　to　a　certain　issue　troubling　his　legal　conscience。　　He　had　not　wavered　in　the　usual　assumption　of　omniscience；　but　he　was　by　no　means　sure　that　he　had　given　right　advice。　　Well！　　Without　that　power　to　decide　and　hold　to　decision　in　spite　of　misgiving；　one　would　never　have　been　fit　for　one's　position　at　the　Bar；　never　have　been　fit　for　anything。　　The　longer　he　lived；　the　more　certain　he　became　of　the　prime　necessity　of　virile　and　decisive　action　in　all　the　affairs　of　life。　　A　word　and　a　blowand　the　blow　first！　　Doubts；　hesitations；　sentiment　the　muling　and　puking　of　this　twilight　age！　　And　there　welled　up　on　his　handsome　face　a　smile　that　was　almost　devilishthe　tricks　of　firelight　are　so　many！　It　faded　again　in　sheer　drowsiness；　he　slept。。。。
  He　woke　with　a　start；　having　a　feeling　of　something　out　beyond　the　light；　and　without　turning　his　head　said：　〃What's　that？〃　　There　came　a　sound　as　if　somebody　had　caught　his　breath。　　He　turned　up　the　lamp。
  〃Who's　there？〃
  A　voice　over　by　the　door　answered：
  〃Only　ILarry。〃
  Something　in　the　tone；　or　perhaps　just　being　startled　out　of　sleep　like　this；　made　him　shiver。　　He　said：
  〃I　was　asleep。　　Come　in！〃
  It　was　noticeable　that　he　did　not　get　up；　or　even　turn　his　head；　now　that　he　knew　who　it　was；　but　waited；　his　half…closed　eyes　fixed　on　the　fire；　for　his　brother　to　come　forward。　　A　visit　from　Laurence　was　not　an　unmixed　blessing。　　He　could　hear　him　breathing；　and　became　conscious　of　a　scent　of　whisky。　　Why　could　not　the　fellow　at　least　abstain　when　he　was　coming　here！　　It　was　so　childish；　so　lacking　in　any　sense　of　proportion　or　of　decency！　　And　he　said　sharply：
  〃Well；　Larry；　what　is　it？〃
  It　was　always　something。　　He　often　wondered　at　the　strength　of　that　sense　of　trusteeship；　which　kept　him　still　tolerant　of　the　troubles；　amenable　to　the　petitions　of　this　brother　of　his；　or　was　it　just　〃blood〃　feeling；　a　Highland　sense　of　loyalty　to　kith　and　kin；　an　old…　time　quality　which　judgment　and　half　his　instincts　told　him　was　weakness　but　which；　in　spite　of　all；　bound　him　to　the　distressful　fellow？　　Was　he　drunk　now；　that　he　kept　lurking　out　there　by　the　door？　　And　he　said　less　sharply：
  〃Why　don't　you　come　and　sit　down？〃
  He　was　coming　now；　avoiding　the　light；　skirting　along　the　walls　just　beyond　the　radiance　of　the　lamp；　his　feet　and　legs　to　the　waist　brightly　lighted；　but　his　face　disintegrated　in　shadow；　like　the　face　of　a　dark　ghost。
  〃Are　you　ill；　man？〃
  Still　no　answer；　save　a　shake　of　that　head；　and　the　passing　up　of　a　hand；　out　of　the　light；　to　the　ghostly　forehead　under　the　dishevelled　hair。　　The　scent　of　whisky　was　stronger　now；　and　Keith　thought：
  'He　really　is　drunk。　　Nice　thing　for　the　new　butler　to　see！　　If　he　can't　behave'
  The　figure　against　the　wall　heaved　a　sighso　truly　from　an　overburdened　heart　that　Keith　was　conscious　with　a　certain　dismay　of　not　having　yet　fathomed　the　cause　of　this　uncanny　silence。　　He　got　up；　and；　back　to　the　fire；　said　with　a　brutality　born　of　nerves　rather　than　design：
  'What　is　it；　man？　　Have　you　committed　a　murder；　that　you　stand　there　dumb　as　a　fish？〃
  For　a　second　no　answer　at　all；　not　even　of　breathing；　then；　just　the　whisper：
  〃Yes。〃
  The　sense　of　unreality　which　so　helps　one　at　moments　of　disaster　enabled　Keith　to　say　vigorously：
  〃By　Jove！　　You　have　been　drinking！〃
  But　it　passed　at　once　into　deadly　apprehension。
  〃What　do　you　mean？　　Come　here；　where　I　can　see　you。　　What's　the　matter　with　you；　Larry？〃
  With　a　sudden　lurch　and　dive；　his　brother　left　the　shelter　of　the　shadow；　and　sank　into　a　chair　in　the　circle　of　light。　　And　another　long；　broken　sigh　escaped　him。
  〃There's　nothing　the　matter　with　me；　Keith！　　It's　true！〃
  Keith　stepped　quickly　forward；　and　stared　down　into　his　brother's　face；　and　instantly　he　saw　that　it　was　true。　　No　one　could　have　simulated　the　look　in　those　eyesof　horrified　wonder；　as　if　they　would　never　again　get　on　terms　with　the　face　to　which　they　belonged。　To　see　them　squeezed　the　heart…only　real　misery　could　look　like　that。　Then　that　sudden　pity　became　angry　bewilderment。
  〃What　in　God's　name　is　this　nonsense？〃
  But　it　was　significant　that　he　lowered　his　voice；　went　over　to　the　door；　too；　to　see　if　it　were　shut。　　Laurence　had　drawn　his　chair　forward；　huddling　over　the　firea　thin　figure；　a　worn；　high…　cheekboned　face　with　deep…sunk　blue　eyes；　and　wavy　hair　all　ruffled；　a　face　that　still　had　a　certain　beauty。　　Putting　a　hand　on　that　lean　shoulder；　Keith　said：
  〃Come；　Larry！　　Pull　yourself　together；　and　drop　exaggeration。〃
  〃It's　true；　I　tell　you；　I've　killed　a　man。〃
  The　noisy　violence　of　that　outburst　acted　like　a　douche。　　What　was　the　fellow　aboutshouting　out　such　words！　　But　suddenly　Laurence　lifted　his　hands　and　wrung　them。　　The　gesture　was　so　utterly　painful　that　it　drew　a　quiver　from　Keith's　face。
  〃Why　did　you　come　here；〃　he　said；　〃and　tell　me　this？〃
  Larry's　face　was　really　unearthly　sometimes；　such　strange　gleams　passed　up　on　to　it！
  〃Whom　else　should　I　tell？　　I　came　to　know　what　I'm　to　do；　Keith？　Give　myself　up；　or　what？〃
  At　that　sudden　introduction　of　the　practical　Keith　felt　his　heart　twitch。　　Was　it　then　as　real　as　all　that？　　But　he　said；　very　quietly：
  〃Just　tell　me　…How　did　it　come　about；　thisaffair？〃
  That　question　linked　the　dark；　gruesome；　fantastic　nightmare　on　to　actuality。
  〃When　did　it　happen？〃
  〃Last　night。〃
  In　Larry's　face　there　wasthere　had　always　beensomething　childishly　truthful。　　He　would　never　stand　a　chance　in　court！　　And　Keith　said：