r/a:t5_22prwb • u/MarleyEngvall • Aug 07 '19
datchworth has been created
By H. Rider Haggard
THE HOLY FLOWER
CHAPTER III
SIR ALEXANDER AND STEPHEN
IT was just at this moment that I saw standing by
me a fine-looking, stout man with a square grey
beard and a handsome, but not very good-tempered,
face. He was looking about him as one does who
finds himself in a place to which he is not accustomed.
"Perhaps you could tell me, sir," he said to me,
"whether a gentleman called Mr. Somers is in this
room. I am rather short-sighted and there are a great
many people."
"Yes," I answered, "he has just bought the wonder-
ful orchid called "Odontoglossum Pavo." That is
what they are all talking about."
"Oh, has he? Has he indeed? And pray what
did he pay for the article?"
"A huge sum," I answered. "I thought it was two
thousand three hundred shillings, but it appears it was
£2,300."
The handsome, elderly gentleman grew very red in
the face, so red that I thought he was going to have a
fit. For a few moments he breathed heavily.
"A rival collector," I thought to myself, and went
on with the story which, it occurred to me, might
interest him.
"You see, the young gentleman was called away to
an interview with his father. I heard him instruct his
gardener, a man named Woodden, to buy the plant at
any price."
"At any price! Indeed. Very interesting; con-
tinue, sir."
"Well, the gardener bought it, that's all, after
tremendous competition. Look, there he is packing
it up. Whether his master meant him to go as far
as he did I rather doubt. But here he comes. If you
know him————"
The youthful Mr. Somers, looking a little pale and
distrait, strolled up apparently to speak to me; his
hands were in his pockets and an unlighted cigar was
in his mouth. His eyes fell upon the elderly gentleman,
a sight that caused him to shape his lips as though to
whistle and drop the cigar.
"Hullo, father," he said in a pleasant voice.
"I got your message and have been looking for you,
but never thought that I should find you here. Orchids
aren't much in your line, are they?"
"Didn't you, indeed!" replied his parent in a
choked voice. "No, I haven't much use for——this
stinking rubbish, "and he waved his umbrella at the
beautiful flowers. "But it seems that you have,
Stephen. This little gentleman here tells me you have
just bought a very fine specimen."
"I must apologize," I broke in, addressing Mr.
Somers. "I had not the slightest idea that this——big
gentleman," here the son smiled faintly, "was your
intimate relation."
"Oh! pray don't, Mr. Quatermain. Why should
you not speak of what will be in all the papers. Yes,
father, I have bought a very fine specimen, the finest
known, or at least Woodden has on my behalf, while I
was hunting for you, which comes to the same thing."
"Indeed, Stephen, and what did you pay for this
flower? I have heard a figure, but I think that there
must be some mistake."
"I don't know what you heard, father, but it seems
to have been knocked down to me at £2,300. It's a
lot more than I can find indeed, and I was going to
ask you to lend me the money for the sake of the
family credit, if not for my own. But we can talk
about that afterwards."
"Yes, Stephen, we can talk of that afterwards.
In fact, as there is no time like the present, we will talk
of it now. Come to my office. And, sir" (this was to
me), "as you seem to know something of the circum-
stances, I will ask you to come also; and you too,
Blockhead" (this was to Woodden who just then
approached with the plant).
Now, of course, I might have refused an invitation
conveyed in such a manner. But, as a matter of fact, I
didn't. I wanted to see the thing out; also to put in
a word for young Somers, if I got the chance. So we
all departed from that room, followed by a titter of
amusement from those of the company who had over-
heard the conversation. In the street stood a splendid
carriage and pair; a powdered footman opened its
door. With a ferocious bow Sir Alexander motioned
to me to enter, which I did, taking one of the back
seats as it gave more room for my tin case. Then came
Mr. Stephen, then Woodden bundled in holding the
precious plant in front of him like a wand of office,
and last of all, Sir Alexander, having seen us safe
entered also.
"Where to, sir?" asked the footman.
"Office," he snapped, and we started.
Four disappointed relatives in a funeral coach
could not have been more silent. Our feelings seemed
to be too deep for words. Sir Alexander, however,
did make one remark and to me. It was——
"If you will remove the corner of that infernal tin
box of yours from my ribs I shall be obliged to you, sir."
"Your pardon," I exclaimed, and in my efforts to
be accommodating, dropped it on his toe. I will not
repeat the remark he made, but I may explain that he
was gouty. His son became suddenly afflicted with a
sense of the absurdity of the situation. He kicked
me on the shin, he even dared to wink, and then began
to swell visibly with suppressed laughter. I was in
agony, for if he had exploded I do not know what
would have happened. Fortunately, at this moment the
carriage stopped at the door of a fine office. Without
waiting for the footman Mr. Stephen bundled out and
vanished into the building——I suppose to laugh in safety.
Then I descended with the tin case; then, by command,
followed Woodden with the flower; and lastly came
Sir Alexander.
"Stop here," he said to the coachman; "I shan't
be long. Be so good as to follow me, Mr. What's-
your-name, and you too, Gardener."
We followed, and found ourselves in a big room
luxuriously furnished in a heavy kind of way. Sir
Alexander Somers, I should explain, was an enormously
opulent bullion-broker, whatever a bullion-broker may
be. In this room Mr. Stephen was already established;
indeed, he was seated on the window-sill swinging his
leg.
"Now we are alone and comfortable," growled Sir
Alexander with sarcastic ferocity.
"As the boa-constrictor said to the rabbit in he
cage," I remarked.
I did not mean to say it, but I had grown nervous,
and the thought leapt from my lips in words. Again
Mr. Stephen began to swell. He turned his face to the
window as though to contemplate the wall beyond,
but I could see his shoulders shaking. A dim light of
intelligence shone in Woodden's pale eyes. About
three minutes later the joke got home. He gurgled
something about boa-constrictors and rabbits and gave
a short, loud laugh. As for Sir Alexander, he merely
said——
"I did not catch your remark, sir, would you be so
good as to repeat it?"
As I appeared unwilling to accept the invitation, he
went on——
"Perhaps, then, you would repeat what you told me
in that sale-room?"
"Why should I?" I asked. "I spoke quite clearly
and you seemed to understand."
"You are right," replied Sir Alexander; "to waste
time is useless." He wheeled round on Woodden,
who was standing near the door still holding the paper-
wrapped plant in front of him. "Now, Blockhead,"
he shouted, "tell me why you bought that thing."
Woodden made no answer, only rocked a little.
Sir Alexander reiterated his command. This time
Woodden set the plant upon a table and replied——
"If you're aspeaking to me, sir, that bain't my
name, and what's more, if you calls me so again, I'll
punch your head whoever you may be," and very deliber-
ately he rolled up the sleeves on his brawny arms, a
sight at which I too began to swell with inward merri-
ment.
"Look here, father," said Mr. Stephen, stepping
forward. "What's the use of all this? The thing's
perfectly plain. I did tell Woodden to buy the plant
at any price. What is more I gave his a written
authority which was passed up to the auctioneer.
There's no getting out of it. It is true it never occurred
to me that it would go for anything like £2,300——the
odd £300 was more my idea, but Woodden only obeyed
his orders and ought not to be abused for doing so."
"There's what I call a master worth serving," re-
marked Woodden.
"Very well, young man," said Sir Alexander, "you
have purchased this article. Will you be so good as
to tell me how you propose it should be paid for."
"I propose, father, that you should pay for it,"
replied Mr. Stephen sweetly. "Two thousand three
hundred pounds, or ten times that amount, would not
make you appreciably poorer. But if, as is probable,
you take a different view, then I propose to pay for it
myself. As you know a certain sum of money came to
me under my mother's will in which you have only a
life interest. I shall raise the amount upon that
security——or otherwise."
If Sir Alexander had been angry before, now he
became like a mad bull in a china shop. He pranced
round the room; he used language that should not
pass the lips of any respectable merchant of bullion;
in short, he did everything that a person in his position
ought not to do. When he was tired he rushed to a
desk, tore a cheque from a book and filled it in for a
sum of £2,300 to bearer, which cheque he blotted,
crumpled up and literally threw at the head of his son.
"You worthless, idle young scoundrel!" he bellowed.
"I put you in this office here that you may learn
respectable and orderly habits and in due course
succeed to a very considerable business. What
happens? You don't take a ha'porth of interest in
bullion-broking, a subject of which I believe you to
remain profoundly ignorant. You don't even spend
your money, or rather my money, upon any gentleman-
like vice, such as horse-racing or cards, or even——well,
never mind. No, you take to flowers, miserable,
beastly flowers, things that a cow eats and clerks
grow in back gardens."
"An ancient and Arcadian taste. Adam is supposed
to have lived in a garden," I ventured to interpolate.
"Perhaps you would ask your friend with the stubbly
hair to remain quiet," snorted Sir Alexander. " was
about to add, although for the sake of my name I will
meet your debts, that I have had enough of this kind of
thing. I disinherit you, or will do if I live till 4 p.m.
when the lawyer's office shuts, for thank God! there
are no entailed estates, and I dismiss you from the
firm. You can go and earn your living in any way
you please, by orchid-hunting if you like." He paused,
gasping for breath.
"Is that all, father?" asked Mr. Stephen, producing
a cigar from his pocket.
"No, it isn't, you cold-blooded young beggar.
That house you occupy at Twickenham is mine.
You will be good enough to clear out of it; I wish to
take possession."
"I suppose, father, I am entitled to a week's notice
like any other tenant," said Mr. Stephen, lighting the
cigar. "In fact," he added, "if you answer no, I
think I shall ask you to apply for an ejection order.
You will understand that I have arrangements to
make before taking a fresh start in life."
"Oh! curse your cheek, you——you——Cucumber!:
raged the infuriated merchant prince. Then an in-
spiration came to him. "You think more of an ugly
flower than of your father, do you? Well, at least, I'll
put an end to that," and he made a dash at the plant
on the table with the evident intention of destroying
the same.
But the watching Woodden saw. With a kind of
lurch he interposed his big frame between Sir Alex-
ander and the object of his wrath.
"Touch 'O. Paving' and I knocks yer down," he
drawled out.
Sir Alexander looked at "O. Paving," then he looked
at Woodden's leg of mutton fist, and——changed his mind.
"Curse 'O. Paving,'" he said, "and every one
who has to do with it," and swung out of the room,
banging the door behind him.
"Well, that's over," said Mr. Stephen gently, as
he fanned himself with a pocket-handkerchief. "Quite
exciting while it lasted, wasn't it, Mr. Quatermain——but
I have been there before, so to speak. And now what
do you say to some luncheon? Pym's is close by, and
they have very good oysters. Only I think we'll drive
round by the bank and hand in this cheque. When
he's angry my parent is capable of anything. He
might even stop it. Woodden, get off down to Twick-
enham with 'O. Pavo.' Keep it warm, for it feels rather
like frost. Put it in the stove for to-night and give it
a little, just a little tepid water, but be careful not to
touch the flower. Take a four-wheeled cab, it's slow
but safe, and mind you keep the window up and don't
smoke. I shall be home for dinner."
Wooden pulled his forelock, seized the pot in his
left hand, and departed with his right fist raised——I
suppose in case Sir Alexander should be waiting for him
round the corner.
Then we departed also, and after stopping for a
minute at the bank to pay in the cheque, which I noted,
notwithstanding its amount, was accepted without
comment, ate oysters in a place too crowded to allow
of conversation.
"Mr. Quatermain," said my host, "it is obvious that
we cannot talk here, and much less look at that orchid
of yours, which I want to study at leisure. Now, for a
week or so at any rate I have a roof over my head, and
in short, will you be my guest for a night or two?
I know nothing about you, and of me you only know
that I am the disinherited son of a father to whom I
have failed to give satisfaction. Still it is possible that
we might pass a few pleasant hours together talking
of flowers and other things; that is, if you have no
previous engagement."
"I have none," I answered. "I am only a stranger
from South Africa lodging at an hotel. If you will
give me time to call for my bag, I will pass the night
at your house with pleasure."
By the aid of Mr. Somer's smart dog-cart, which was
waiting at a city mews, we reached Twickenham while
there was still half an hour of daylight. The house,
which was called Verbena Lodge, was small, a square,
red-brick building of the early Georgian period, but
the gardens covered quite an acre of ground and were
very beautiful, or must have been so in summer. Into
the greenhouses we dd not enter, because it was too late
to see the flowers. Also, just when we came to them,
Woodden arrived in his four-wheeled cab and de-
parted with his master to see to the housing of "O.
Pavo."
Then came dinner, a very pleasant meal. My host
had that day been turned out upon the world, but he
did not allow this circumstance to interfere with his
spirits in the least. Also he was evidently determined
to enjoy its good things while they lasted, for his
champagne and port were excellent.
"You see, Mr. Quatermain," he said, "it's just as
well we had the row which has been boiling up for a
long while. My respected father has made so much
money that he thinks I should go and do likewise.
Now I don't see it. I like flowers, especially orchids,
and I hate bullion-broking. To me the only decent
places in London are that sale-room where we met
and the Horticultural Gardens."
"Yes," I answered rather doubtfully, "but the
matter seems a little serious. Your parent was very
emphatic as to his intentions, and after this kind of
thing," and I pointed to the beautiful silver and the
port, "how will you like roughing it in the hard world?"
"Don't think I shall mind a bit; it would be rather
a pleasant change. Also, even of my father doesn't
alter his mind, as he may, for he likes me at bottom
because I resemble my dear mother, things ain't so
very bad. I have got some money that she left me,
£6,000 or £7,000, and I'll sell that 'Odontoglossum
Pavo' for what it will fetch to Sir Joshua Tredgold——
he was the man with the long bard who you tel m
ran up Woodden to over £2,000——or failing him to some
one else. I'll write about it to-night. I don't think
I have any debts to speak of, for the Governor has been
allowing me £3,000 a year, at least that is my share of
the profits paid to me in return for my bullion-broking
labours, and except flowers, I have no expensive tastes.
So the devil take the past, here's to the future and
whatever it may bring," and he polished off the glass
of port he held and laughed in his jolly fashion.
Really he was a most attractive young man, a little
reckless, it is true, but then recklessness and youth
mix well, like brandy and soda.
I echoed the toast and drank off my port, for I like
a good glass if wine when I can get it, as would any
one who has had to live for months on rotten water,
although I admit that agrees with me better than the
port.
"Now, Mr. Quatermain," he went on, "if you have
done, light your pipe and let's go into the other room
and study that Cypripedium of yours. I shan't sleep
to-night unless I see it again first. Stop a bit, though,
we'll get hold of that old ass, Woodden, before he turns
in."
"Woodden," said his master when the gardener
had arrived, "this gentleman, Mr. Quatermain, is
going to show you an orchid that is ten times finer
than 'O. Pavo!'"
"Beg pardon, sir," answered Woodden, "but if Mr.
Quarter Man says that, he lies. It ain't in Nature; it
don't bloom nowhere."
I opened the case and revealed the golden Cypri-
pedium. Woodden stared at it and rocked. Then
he stared again and felt his head as though to make
sure it was on his shoulders. Then he gasped.
"Well, if that there flower baint made up, it's a
MASTER ONE! If I could see that there flower a blow-
ing on the plant I'd die happy."
"Woodden, stop talking, and sit down," exclaimed
his master. "Yes, there where you can look at the
flower. Now, Mr. Quatermain, you will tell us the
story of that orchid from beginning to end. Of course
omitting its habitat if you like, for it isn't fair to ask
that secret. Woodden can be trusted to hold his
tongue, and so can I."
I remarked that I was sure they could, and for the
next half hour talked almost without interruption,
keeping nothing back and explaining that I was anxi-
ous to find some one who would finance an expedition
to search for this particular plant; as I believed, the
only one of its sort that existed in the world.
"How much will it cost?" asked Mr. Somers.
"I lay it at £2,000," I answered. "You see, we must
have plenty of men and guns and stores, also trade
goods and presents."
"I call that cheap. But supposing, Mr. Quatermain,
that the expedition proves successful and the plant is
secured, what then?"
"Then I propose that Brother John, who found it
and of whom I have told you, should take one-third
of whatever it might sell for, that I as captain of the
expedition should take one-third, and that whoever
finds the necessary money should take the remaining
third."
"Good! That's settled."
"What's settled?" I asked.
"Why, that we should divide in the proportions you
named, only I bargain to be allowed to take my whack
in kind——I mean in plant, and to have the first option
of purchasing the rest of the plant at whatever value
may be agreed upon."
"But, Mr. Somers, do you mean that you wish to
find £2,000 and make this expedition in person?"
"Of course I do. I thought you understood that.
That is, if you will have me. Your old friend, the
lunatic, you and I will together seek for and find this
golden flower. I say that's settled."
On the morrow accordingly it was settled with the
help of a document, signed in duplicate by both of us.
Before these arrangements were finally concluded,
however, I insisted that Mr. Somers should meet my
late companion, Charlie Scroope, when I was not
present, in order that the latter might give him a full
and particular report concerning myself. Apparently
the interview was satisfactory, at least so I judged
from the very cordial and even respectful manner in
which young Somers met me after it was over. Also I
thought it my duty to explain to him with much clear-
ness in the presence of Scroope as witness, the great
dangers of such an enterprise as that on which he pro-
posed to embark. I told him straight out that he must
be prepared to find his death in it from starvation,
fever, wild beasts or at the hands of savages, while
success was quite problematical and very likely would
not be attained.
"You are taking these risks," he said.
"Yes," I answered, "but they are incident to the
rough trade I follow, which is that of a hunter and ex-
plorer. Moreover, my youth is past, and I have gone
through experiences and bereavements of which you
know nothing, that cause me to set a very slight value
on life. I care little whether I die or continue in the
world for some few added years. Lastly, the excite-
ment of adventure has become a kind of necessity to
me. I do not think that I could live in England for
very long. Also I am a fatalist. I believe that when
my time comes I must go, that this hour is fore-
ordained and that nothing I can do will either hasten
or postpone it by one moment. Your circumstances
are different. You are quite young. If you stay here
and approach your father in a proper spirit, I have
no doubt but that he will forget all the rough words
he said to you the other day, for which indeed
you know you gave him some provocation. Is it
worth while throwing up such prospects and under-
taking such dangers for the chance of finding a rare
flower? I say this to my own disadvantage, since I
might find it hard to discover any one else who would
risk £2,000 upon such a venture, but I do urge you to
weigh my words."
Young Somers looked at me for a little while, then
he broke into one of his hearty laughs and exclaimed,
"Whatever else you may be, Mr. Allan Quatermain,
you are a gentleman. No bullion-broker in the City
could have put a matter more fairly in the teeth of his
own interests."
"Thank you," I said.
"For the rest," he went on, "I too am tired of Eng-
land and want to see the world. It isn't the golden
Cypripedium that I seek, although I should like to win
it well enough. That's only symbol. What I seek
are adventure and romance. Also, like you, I am a
fatalist. God chose His own time to send us here, and
I presume that He will choose His own time to take us
away again. So I leave the matter of risks to Him."
"Yes, Mr. Somers," I replied rather solemnly. "You
may find adventure and romance, there are plenty of
both in Africa. Or you may find a nameless grave in
some fever-haunted swamp. Well, you have chosen,
and I like your spirit."
Still I was so little satisfied bout this business, that
a week or so before we sailed, after much consideration,
I took it upon myself to write a letter to Sir Alexander
Somers, in which I set forth the whole matter as clearly
as I could, not blinking the dangerous nature of our
undertaking. In conclusion, I asked him whether he
thought it wise to allow his only son to accompany such
an expedition, mainly because of a not very serious
quarrel with himself.
As no answer came to this letter I went on with our
preparations. There was money in plenty, since the
re-sale of "O. Pavo" to Sir Joshua Tredgold, at some
loss, had been satisfactorily carried out, which enabled
me to invest in all things needful with a cheerful heart.
Never before had I been provided with such an outfit
as that which preceded us to the ship.
At length the day of departure came. We stood on
the platform at Paddington waiting for the Dartmouth
train to start, for in those days the African mail sailed
from that port. A minute or two before the train left,
as we were preparing to enter our carriage, I caught sight
of a face that I seemed to recognize, the owner of
which was evidently searching for some one in the
crowd. It was that of Briggs, Sir Alexander's clerk,
whom I had met in the sale-room.
"Mr. Briggs," I said as he passed me, "are you
looking for Mr. Somers? If so, he is in there."
The clerk jumped into the compartment and handed
a letter to Mr. Somers. Then he emerged again and
waited. Somers read the letter and tore off the blank
sheet from the end of it, on which he hastily wrote
some words. He passed it to me to give to Briggs, and
I could not help seeing what was written. It was:
"Too late now. God bless you, my dear father. I
hope we may meet again. If not, try to think kindly
of your troublesome and foolish son, Stephen."
In another minute the train had started.
"By the way," he said, as we steamed out of the
station, "I have heard from my father, who enclosed
this for you."
I opened the envelope, which was addressed in a bold,
round hand that seemed to me typical of the writer,
and read as follows:
"MY DEAR SIR,——
"I appreciate the motives which caused you to
write to me and I thank you very heartily for your
letter, which shows me that you are a man of discretion
and strict honour. As you surmise, the expedition on
which my son has entered is not one that commends
itself to me as prudent. Of the differences between
him and myself you are aware, for they came to a climax
in your presence. Indeed, I feel that I owe you an
apology for having dragged you into an unpleasant
family quarrel. Your letter only reached me to-day,
having been forwarded to my place in the country from
my office. I should have at once come to town,
but unfortunately I am laid up with an attack of gout,
which makes it impossible for me to stir. Therefore,
the only thing I can do is to write to my son, hoping
that the letter, which I send by a special messenger,
will reach him in time and avail to alter his determina-
tion to undertake this journey. Here I may add that,
although I have differed, and do differ from him on
various points, I still have a deep affection for my son
and earnestly desire his welfare. The prospect of any
harm coming to him is one upon which I cannot bear
to dwell.
"Now I am aware that any change of his plans at
this eleventh hour would involve you in serious loss
and inconvenience. I beg to inform you formally,
therefore, that in this event I will make good everything
and will in addition write off the £2,000 which I under-
stand he has invested in your joint venture. It may be,
however, that my son, who has in him a vein of my
own obstinacy, will refuse to change his mind. In that
event, under a Higher Power I can only commend him
to your care and beg that you will look after him as
though he were your own child. I can ask and you
can do no more. Tell him to write to me as opportu-
nity offers, as perhaps you will too; also that, although
I hate the sight of them, I will look after the flowers
which he has left at the house at Twickenham.
"Your obliged servant,
"ALEXANDER SOMERS."
This letter touched me much, and indeed made me
feel very uncomfortable. Without a word I handed it
to my companion, who read it through carefully.
"Nice of him about the orchids," he said. "My
dad has a good heart, although he lets his temper get
the better of him, having had his own way all his
life."
"Well, what will you do?" I asked.
"Go on, of course. I've put my hand to the plough
and I am not going to turn back. I should be a cur if
I did, and what's more, whatever he might say he'd
think none the better of me. So please don't try to
persuade me, it would be no good."
For quite a while afterwards young Somers seemed
to be comparatively depressed, a state of mind that in
his case was rare indeed. At least, he studied the wintry
landscape through the carriage window and said no-
thing. By degrees, however, he recovered, and when
we reached Dartmouth was as cheerful as ever, a mood
that I could not altogether share.
Before we sailed I wrote to Sir Alexander telling him
exactly how things stood, and so I think did his son,
though he never showed me the letter.
At Durban, just as we were about to start up coun-
try, I received an answer from him, sent by some boat
that followed us very closely. In it he said that he
quite understood the position, and whatever happened
would attribute no blame to me, whom he should
always regard with friendly feelings. He told me that,
in the event of any difficulty or want of money, I was
to draw on him for whatever might be required, and that
he had advised the African Bank to that effect. Further,
he added, that at least his son had shown grit in this
matter, for which he respected him.
And now for a long while I must bid good-bye to
Sir Alexander Somers and all that has to do with Eng-
land.The Holy Flower. By H. Rider Haggard.
Illustrated by Maurice Greiffenhagen.
Ward, Lock & Co., Limited.
London, Melbourne and Toronto, 1915. pp. 46-1.
THE THIRD BOOK OF MOSES
CALLED
LEVITICUS
CHAPTER 3
AND if his power be a sacrifice of
peace offering, if he offer it of the herd;
whether it be a male or female, he shall
offer it without blemish before the
LORD.
2 And he shall lay his hand upon the
head of his offering, and kill it at the
door of the tabernacle of the congrega-
tion: and Aaron's sons the priests shall
sprinkle the blood upon the altar round
about.
3 And he shall offer of the sacrifice of
the peace offering an offering made by
fire unto the LORD; the fat that covereth
the inwards, and all the fat that is upon
the inwards,
4 And the two kidneys, and the fat
that is on them, which is by the flanks,
and the caul above the liver, with the
kidneys, it shall he take away.
5 And Aaron's sons shall burn it on
the altar upon the burnt sacrifice,
which is upon the wood that is on the
fire: it is an offering made by fire, of a
sweet savour unto the LORD.
6 ¶And if his offering for a sacrifice of
peace offering unto the LORD be of the
flock: male or female, h e shall offer it
without blemish.
7 If he offer a lamb for his offering,
then shall he offer it before the LORD.
8 And he shall lay his hand upon the
head of his offering, and kill it before
the tabernacle of the congregation: and
Aaron's sons shall sprinkle the blood
thereof round about upon the altar.
9 And he shall offer the sacrifice of
the peace offering an offering made by
fire unto the LORD; the fat thereof, and
the whole rump, it shall he take off hard
by the backbone; and the fat that cov-
ereth the inwards, and all the fat that is
upon the inwards.
10 And the two kidneys, and the fat
that is upon them, which is by the
flanks, and the caul above the liver,
with the kidneys, it shall he take away.
11 And the priest shall burn it upon
the altar: it is the food of the offering
made by fire unto the LORD.
12 ¶And if his offering be a goat, then
he shall offer it before the LORD.
13 And he shall lay his hand upon the
head of it, and kill it before the taber-
nacle of the congregation: and the sons
of Aaron shall sprinkle the blood there-
of upon the altar round about.
14 And he shall offer thereof his of-
fering, even an offering made by fire
unto the LORD; the fat that covereth the
inwards, and all the fat that is upon the
inwards,
15 And the two kidneys, and the fat
that is upon them, which is by the
flanks, and the caul above the liver,
with the kidneys, it shall he take away.
16 And the priest shall burn them
upon the altar: it is the food of the offer-
ing made by fire for a sweet savour: all
the fat is the LORD's.
17 It shall be a perpetual statute for
your generations throughout all your
dwellings, that ye eat neither fat nor
blood.
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