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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3828-0.txt b/3828-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc147ae --- /dev/null +++ b/3828-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12120 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Simon the Jester, by William J. Locke + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Simon the Jester + +Author: William J. Locke + +Release Date: April 13, 2006 [EBook #3828] +Last Updated: March 12, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIMON THE JESTER *** + + + + +Produced by Dagny; John Bickers + + + + + +SIMON THE JESTER + + +By William J. Locke + + + + +CHAPTER I + +I met Renniker the other day at the club. He is a man who knows +everything--from the method of trimming a puppy's tail for a dog-show, +without being disqualified, to the innermost workings of the mind of +every European potentate. If I want information on any subject under +heaven I ask Renniker. + +“Can you tell me,” said I, “the most God-forsaken spot in England?” + +Renniker, being in a flippant mood, mentioned a fashionable +watering-place on the South Coast. I pleaded the seriousness of my +question. + +“What I want,” said I, “is a place compared to which Golgotha, Aceldama, +the Dead Sea, the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and the Bowery would be leafy +bowers of uninterrupted delight.” + +“Then Murglebed-on-Sea is what you're looking for,” said Renniker. “Are +you going there at once?” + +“At once,” said I. + +“It's November,” said he, “and a villainous November at that; so you'll +see Murglebed-on-Sea in the fine flower of its desolation.” + +I thanked him, went home, and summoned my excellent man Rogers. + +“Rogers,” said I, “I am going to the seaside. I heard that Murglebed +is a nice quiet little spot. You will go down and inspect it for me and +bring back a report.” + +He went blithe and light-hearted, though he thought me insane; he +returned with the air of a serving-man who, expecting to find a +well-equipped pantry, had wandered into a charnel house. + +“It's an awful place, sir. It's sixteen miles from a railway station. +The shore is a mud flat. There's no hotel, and the inhabitants are like +cannibals.” + +“I start for Murglebed-on-Sea to-morrow,” said I. + +Rogers started at me. His loose mouth quivered like that of a child +preparing to cry. + +“We can't possibly stay there, sir,” he remonstrated. + +“_We_ are not going to try,” I retorted. “I'm going by myself.” + +His face brightened. Almost cheerfully he assured me that I should find +nothing to eat in Murglebed. + +“You can amuse yourself,” said I, “by sending me down a daily hamper of +provisions.” + +“There isn't even a church,” he continued. + +“Then you can send me down a tin one from Humphreys'. I believe they can +supply one with everything from a tin rabbit-hutch to a town hall.” + +He sighed and departed, and the next day I found myself here, in +Murglebed-on-Sea. + +On a murky, sullen November day Murglebed exhibits unimagined horrors +of scenic depravity. It snarls at you malignantly. It is like a bit of +waste land in Gehenna. There is a lowering, soap-suddy thing a mile away +from the more or less dry land which local ignorance and superstition +call the sea. The interim is mud--oozy, brown, malevolent mud. Sometimes +it seems to heave as if with the myriad bodies of slimy crawling eels +and worms and snakes. A few foul boats lie buried in it. + +Here and there, on land, a surly inhabitant spits into it. If you +address him he snorts at you unintelligibly. If you turn your back to +the sea you are met by a prospect of unimagined despair. There are +no trees. The country is flat and barren. A dismal creek runs miles +inland--an estuary fed by the River Murgle. A few battered cottages, a +general shop, a couple of low public-houses, and three perky red-brick +villas all in a row form the city, or town, or village, or what you +will, of Murglebed-on-Sea. Renniker is a wonderful man. + +I have rented a couple of furnished rooms in one of the villas. It has +a decayed bit of front garden in which a gnarled, stunted stick is +planted, and it is called The Laburnums. My landlord, the owner of +the villas, is a builder. What profits he can get from building in +Murglebed, Heaven alone knows; but, as he mounts a bicycle in the +morning and disappears for the rest of the day, I presume he careers +over the waste, building as he goes. In the evenings he gets drunk at +the Red Cow; so I know little of him, save that he is a red-faced man, +with a Moustache like a tooth-brush and two great hands like hams. + +His wife is taciturn almost to dumbness. She is a thick-set, +black-haired woman, and looks at me disapprovingly out of the corner of +her eye as if I were a blackbeetle which she would like to squash under +foot. She tolerates me, however, on account of the tongues and other +sustenance sent by Rogers from Benoist, of which she consumes prodigious +quantities. She wonders, as far as the power of wonder is given to her +dull brain, what on earth I am doing here. I see her whispering to her +friends as I enter the house, and I know they are wondering what I am +doing here. The whole village regards me as a humorous zoological freak, +and wonders what I am doing here among normal human beings. + +And what am I doing here--I, Simon de Gex, M.P., the spoilt darling of +fortune, as my opponent in the Labour interest called me during the last +electoral campaign? My disciple and secretary, young Dale Kynnersley, +the only mortal besides Rogers who knows my whereabouts, trembles for +my reason. In the eyes of the excellent Rogers I am horn-mad. What my +constituents would think did they see me taking the muddy air on a soggy +afternoon, I have no conception. Dale keeps them at bay. He also baffles +the curiosity of my sisters, and by his diplomacy has sent Eleanor +Faversham on a huffy trip to Sicily. She cannot understand why I bury +myself in bleak solitude, instead of making cheerful holiday among the +oranges and lemons of the South. + +Eleanor is a girl with a thousand virtues, each of which she expects to +find in counterpart in the man to whom she is affianced. Until a week or +two ago I actually thought myself in love with Eleanor. There seemed +a whimsical attraction in the idea of marrying a girl with a thousand +virtues. Before me lay the pleasant prospect of reducing them--say, ten +at a time--until I reached the limit at which life was possible, +and then one by one until life became entertaining. I admired her +exceedingly--a strapping, healthy English girl who looked you straight +in the eyes and gripped you fearlessly by the hand. + +My friends “lucky-dog'd” me until I began to smirk to myself at my own +good fortune. She visited the constituency and comported herself as if +she had been a Member's wife since infancy, thereby causing my heart to +swell with noble pride. This unparalleled young person compelled me to +take my engagement almost seriously. If I shot forth a jest, it struck +against a virtue and fell blunted to the earth. Indeed, even now I am +sorry I can't marry Eleanor. But marriage is out of the question. + +I have been told by the highest medical authorities that I may manage to +wander in the flesh about this planet for another six months. After that +I shall have to do what wandering I yearn for through the medium of my +ghost. There is a certain humourousness in the prospect. Save for an +occasional pain somewhere inside me, I am in the most robust health. + +But this same little pain has been diagnosed by the Faculty as the +symptom of an obscure disease. An operation, they tell me, would kill +me on the spot. What it is called I cannot for the life of me remember. +They gave it a kind of lingering name, which I wrote down on my +shirt-cuff. + +The name or characteristics of the thing, however, do not matter a fig. +I have always hated people who talked about their insides, and I am not +going to talk about mine, even to myself. Clearly, if it is only going +to last me six months, it is not worth talking about. But the quaint +fact of its brief duration is worth the attention of a contemplative +mind. + +It is in order perfectly to focus this attention that I have come to +Murglebed-on-Sea. Here I am alone with the murk and the mud and my own +indrawn breath of life. There are no flowers, blue sky, smiling eyes, +and dainty faces--none of the adventitious distractions of the +earth. There are no Blue-books. Before the Faculty made their jocular +pronouncement I had been filling my head with statistics on pauper +lunacy so as to please my constituency, in which the rate has increased +alarmingly of late years. Perhaps that is why I found myself their +representative in Parliament. I was to father a Bill on the subject next +session. Now the labour will fall on other shoulders. I interest myself +in pauper lunacy no more. A man requires less flippant occupation for +the premature sunset of his days. Well, in Murglebed I can think, I +can weigh the _pros_ and _cons_ of existence with an even mind, I can +accustom myself to the concept of a Great Britain without Simon de Gex. +M.P. + +Of course, when I go I shall “cast one longing, lingering look behind.” + I don't particularly want to die. In fact, having otherwise the prospect +of an entertaining life, I regard my impending dissolution in the light +of a grievance. But I am not afraid. I shall go through the dismal +formality with a graceful air and as much of a smile on my face as the +pain in my inside will physically permit. + +My dear but somewhat sober-sided friend Marcus Aurelius says: “Let death +surprise me when it will, and where it will, I may be _eumoiros_, or +a happy man, nevertheless. For he is a happy man who in his lifetime +dealeth unto himself a happy lot and portion. A happy lot and portion in +good inclinations of the soul, good desires, good actions.” + +The word _eumoiros_ according to the above definition, tickles my fancy. +I would give a great deal to be eumoirous. What a thing to say: “I have +achieved eumoiriety,”--namely the quintessence of happy-fatedness dealt +unto oneself by a perfect altruism! + +I don't think that hitherto my soul has been very evilly inclined, my +desires base, or my actions those of a scoundrel. Still, the negatives +do not qualify one for eumoiriety. One wants something positive. I +have an idea, therefore, of actively dealing unto myself a happy lot or +portion according to the Marcian definition during the rest of the time +I am allowed to breathe the upper air. And this will be fairly easy; +for no matter how excellently a man's soul may be inclined to the +performance of a good action, in ninety cases out of a hundred he is +driven away from it by dread of the consequences. Your moral teachers +seldom think of this--that the consequences of a good action are often +more disastrous than those of an evil one. But if a man is going to die, +he can do good with impunity. He can simply wallow in practical virtue. +When the boomerang of his beneficence comes back to hit him on the +head--_he won't be there to feel it_. He can thus hoist Destiny with its +own petard, and, besides, being eumoirous, can spend a month or two in a +peculiarly diverting manner. The more I think of the idea the more am +I in love with it. I am going to have a seraph of a time. I am going to +play the archangel. + +I shall always have pleasant memories of Murglebed. Such an idea could +not have germinated in any other atmosphere. In the scented groves of +sunny lands there would have been sown Seeds of Regret, which would have +blossomed eventually into Flowers of Despair. I should have gone about +the world, a modern Admetus, snivelling at my accursed luck, without +even the chance of persuading a soft-hearted Alcestis to die for me. I +should have been a dismal nuisance to society. + +“Bless you,” I cried this afternoon, waving, as I leaned against a +post, my hand to the ambient mud, “Renniker was wrong! You are not a +God-forsaken place. You are impregnated with divine inspiration.” + +A muddy man in a blue jersey and filthy beard who occupied the next post +looked at me and spat contemptuously. I laughed. + +“If you were Marcus Aurelius,” said I, “I would make a joke--a short +life and an eumoiry one--and he would have looked as pained as you.” + +“What?” he bawled. He was to windward of me. + +I knew that if I repeated my observation he would offer to fight me. I +approached him suavely. + +“I was wondering,” I said, “as it's impossible to strike a match in this +wind, whether you would let me light my pipe from yours.” + +“It's empty,” he growled. + +“Take a fill from my pouch,” said I. + +The mud-turtle loaded his pipe, handed me my pouch without +acknowledgment, stuck his pipe in his breeches pocket, spat again, and, +deliberately turning his back, on me, lounged off to another post on a +remoter and less lunatic-ridden portion of the shore. Again I laughed, +feeling, as the poet did with the daffodils, that one could not but be +gay in such a jocund company. + +There are no amenities or urbanities of life in Murglebed to choke the +growth of the Idea. This evening it flourishes so exceedingly that I +think it safe to transplant it in the alien soil of Q 3, The Albany, +where the good Rogers must be leading an idle existence peculiarly +deleterious to his morals. + +This gives one furiously to think. One of the responsibilities of +eumoiriety must be the encouragement and development of virtue in my +manservant. + +Also in my young friend and secretary, Dale Kynnersley. He is more to me +than Rogers. I may confess that, so long as Rogers is a sober, honest, +me-fearing valet, in my heart of hearts I don't care a hang about +Rogers's morals. But about those of Dale Kynnersley I do. I care a great +deal for his career and happiness. I have a notion that he is erring +after strange goddesses and neglecting the little girl who is in love +with him. He must be delivered. He must marry Maisie Ellerton, and the +two of them must bring lots of capable, clear-eyed Kynnersleys into the +world. I long to be their ghostly godfather. + +Then there's Eleanor Faversham--but if I begin to draw up a programme +I shall lose that spontaneity of effort which, I take it, is one of the +chief charms of dealing unto oneself a happy lot and portion. No; my +soul abhors tabulation. It would make even six months' life as jocular +as Bradshaw's Railway Guide or the dietary of a prison. I prefer to look +on what is before me as a high adventure, and with that prospect in view +I propose to jot down my experiences from time to time, so that when I +am wandering, a pale shade by Acheron, young Dale Kynnersley may have +not only documentary evidence wherewith to convince my friends and +relations that my latter actions were not those of a lunatic, but also, +at the same time, an up-to-date version of Jeremy Taylor's edifying +though humour-lacking treatise on the act of dying, which I am sorely +tempted to label “The Rule and Example of Eumoiriety.” I shall resist +the temptation, however. Dale Kynnersley--such is the ignorance of the +new generation--would have no sense of the allusion. He would shake his +head and say, “Dotty, poor old chap, dotty!” I can hear him. And if, in +order to prepare him, I gave him a copy of the “Meditations,” he +would fling the book across the room and qualify Marcus Aurelius as a +“rotter.” + +Dale is a very shrewd fellow, and will make an admirable legislator +when his time comes. Although his highest intellectual recreation is +reiterated attendance at the musical comedy that has caught his fancy +for the moment and his favourite literature the sporting pages of the +daily papers, he has a curious feline pounce on the salient facts of +a political situation, and can thread the mazes of statistics with the +certainty of a Hampton Court guide. His enthusiastic researches (on my +behalf) into pauper lunacy are remarkable in one so young. I foresee +him an invaluable chairman of committee. But he will never become a +statesman. He has too passionate a faith in facts and figures, and has +not cultivated a sense of humour at the expense of the philosophers. +Young men who do not read them lose a great deal of fun. + +Well, to-morrow I leave Murglebed for ever; it has my benison. +Democritus returns to London. + + + +CHAPTER II + +I was at breakfast on the morning after my arrival in London, when Dale +Kynnersley rushed in and seized me violently by the hand. + +“By Jove, here you are at last!” + +I smoothed my crushed fingers. “You have such a vehement manner of +proclaiming the obvious, my dear Dale.” + +“Oh, rot!” he said. “Here, Rogers, give me some tea--and I think I'll +have some toast and marmalade.” + +“Haven't you breakfasted?” + +A cloud overspread his ingenuous countenance. + +“I came down late, and everything was cold and mother was on edge. +The girls are always doing the wrong things and I never do the right +ones--you know the mater--so I swallowed a tepid kidney and rushed off.” + +“Save for her worries over you urchins,” said I, “I hope Lady Kynnersley +is well?” + +He filled his mouth with toast and marmalade, and nodded. He is a +good-looking boy, four-and-twenty--idyllic age! He has sleek black hair +brushed back from his forehead over his head, an olive complexion, and +a keen, open, clean-shaven face. He wore a dark-brown lounge suit and +a wine-coloured tie, and looked immaculate. I remember him as the +grubbiest little wretch that ever disgraced Harrow. + +He swallowed his mouthful and drank some tea. + +“Recovered your sanity?” he asked. + +“The dangerous symptoms have passed over,” I replied. “I undertake not +to bite.” + +He regarded me as though he were not quite certain, and asked in his +pronounless way whether I was glad to be back in London. + +“Yes,” said I. “Rogers is the only human creature who can properly wax +the ends of my moustache. It got horribly limp in the air of Murglebed. +That is the one and only disadvantage of the place.” + +“Doesn't seem to have done you much good,” he remarked, scanning me +critically. “You are as white as you were before you went away. Why the +blazes you didn't go to Madeira, or the South of France, or South Africa +I can't imagine.” + +“I don't suppose you can,” said I. “Any news?” + +“I should think I have! But first let me go through the appointments.” + +He consulted a pocket-book. On December 2nd I was to dine with Tanners' +Company and reply to the toast of “The House of Commons.” On the 4th +my constituency claimed me for the opening of a bazaar at Wymington. +A little later I was to speak somewhere in the North of England at a +by-election in support of the party candidate. + +“It will be fought on Tariff Reform, about which I know nothing,” I +objected. + +“I know everything,” he declared. “I'll see you through. You must buck +up a bit, Simon, and get your name better known about the country. And +this brings me to my news. I was talking to Raggles the other day--he +dropped a hint, and Raggles's hints are jolly well worth while picking +up. Just come to the front and show yourself, and there's a place in the +Ministry.” + +“Ministry?” + +“Sanderson's going.” + +“Sanderson?” I queried, interested, in spite of myself, at these +puerilities. “What's the matter with him?” + +“Swelled head. There have been awful rows--this is confidential--and +he's got the hump. Thinks he ought to be the Chancellor of the +Exchequer, or at least First Lord, instead of an Under Secretary. So +he's going to chuck it, before he gets the chuck himself--see?” + +“I perceive,” said I, “that your conversational English style is +abominable.” + +He lit a cigarette and continued, loftily taking no notice of my rebuke. + +“There's bound to be a vacancy. Why shouldn't you fill it? They seem to +want you. You're miles away over the heads of the average solemn duffers +who get office.” + +I bowed acknowledgment of his tribute. + +“Well, you will buck up and try for it, won't you? I'm awfully proud +of you already, but I should go off my head with joy if you were in the +Ministry.” + +I met his honest young eyes as well as I could. How was I going to +convey to his candid intelligence the fact of my speedy withdrawal from +political life without shattering his illusions? Besides, his devotion +touched me, and his generous aspirations were so futile. Office! It was +in my grasp. Raggles, with his finger always on the pulse of the party +machine, was the last man in the world to talk nonsense. I only had to +“buck up.” Yet by the time Sanderson sends in his resignation to the +King of England, I shall have sent in mine to the King of Hosts. I moved +slightly in my chair, and a twinge of the little pain inside brought a +gasp to my throat. But I felt grateful to it. It was saving me from an +unconscionable deal of worry. Fancy going to a confounded office every +morning like a clerk in the City! I was happier at peace. I rose and +warmed myself by the fire. Dale regarded me uncomprehendingly. + +“You look as if the prospect bored you to tears. I thought you would be +delighted.” + +“_Vanitas vanitatum_,” said I. “_Omnia vanitas_.” + +“Rot!” said Dale. + +“It's true.” + +“I must fetch Eleanor Faversham back from Sicily,” said Dale. + +“Don't,” said I. + +“Well, I give you up,” he declared, pushing his chair from the table and +swinging one leg across the other. I leaned forward and scrutinised his +ankles. + +“What are you looking at?” + +“There must be something radically wrong with you, Dale,” I murmured +sympathetically. “It is part of the religion of your generation to wear +socks to match your tie. To-day your tie is wine-coloured and your socks +are green----” + +“Good Lord,” he cried, “so they are! I dressed myself anyhow this +morning.” + +“What's wrong with you?” + +He threw his cigarette impatiently into the fire. + +“Every infernal thing that can possibly be. Everything's rotten--but +I've not come here to talk about myself.” + +“Why not?” + +“It isn't the game. I'm here on your business, which is ever so much +more important than mine. Where are this morning's letters?” + +I pointed to an unopened heap on a writing-table at the end of the room. +He crossed and sat down before them. Presently he turned sharply. + +“You haven't looked through the envelopes. Here is one from Sicily.” + +I took the letter from him, and sighed to myself as I read it. Eleanor +was miserable. The Sicilians were dirty. The Duomo of Palermo did +not come up to her expectations. The Mobray-Robertsons, with whom she +travelled, quarrelled with their food. They had never even heard of +Theocritus. She had a cold in her head, and was utterly at a loss to +explain my attitude. Therefore she was coming back to London. + +I wish I could find her a nice tame husband who had heard of Theocritus. +It would be such a good thing for everybody, husband included. For, I +repeat, Eleanor is a young woman of fine character, and the man to whom +she gives her heart will be a fortunate fellow. + +While I was reading the letter and meditating on it, with my back to +the fire, Dale plunged into the morning's correspondence with an air of +enjoyment. That is the astonishing thing about him. He loves work. +The more I give him to do the better he likes it. His cronies, who in +raiment, manners, and tastes differ from him no more than a row of pins +differs from a stray brother, regard a writing-chair as a mediaeval +instrument of torture, and faint at the sight of ink. They will put +themselves to all kinds of physical and pecuniary inconvenience in order +to avoid regular employment. They are the tramps of the fashionable +world. But in vain do they sing to Dale of the joys of silk-hatted and +patent-leather-booted vagabondage and deride his habits of industry; +Dale turns a deaf ear to them and urges on his strenuous career. Rogers, +coming in to clear away the breakfast things, was despatched by my young +friend to fetch a portfolio from the hall. It contained, he informed +me, the unanswered letters of the past fortnight with which he had +found himself unqualified to deal. He grasped the whole bundle of +correspondence, and invited me to follow him to the library and start on +a solid morning's work. I obeyed meekly. He sat down at the big table, +arranged the pile in front of him, took a pencil from the tray, and +began: + +“This is from Finch, of the _Universal Review_.” + +I put my hand on his shoulder. + +“Tell him, my boy, that it's against my custom to breakfast at afternoon +tea, and that I hope his wife is well.” + +At his look of bewilderment I broke into a laugh. + +“He wants me to write a dull article for his stupid paper, doesn't he?” + +“Yes, on Poor Law Administration.” + +“I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to do anything these people ask +me. Say 'No, no, no, no,' to everybody.” + +“In Heaven's name, Simon,” he cried, laying down his pencil, “what has +come over you?” + +“Old age,” said I. + +He uttered his usual interjection, and added that I was only +thirty-seven. + +“Age is a relative thing,” I remarked. “Babes of five have been known +to die of senile decay, and I have seen irresponsible striplings of +seventy.” + +“I really think Eleanor Faversham had better come back from Sicily.” + +I tapped the letter still in my hand. “She's coming.” + +“I'm jolly glad to hear it. It's all my silly fault that she went away. +I thought she was getting on your nerves. But you want pulling together. +That confounded place you've been to has utterly upset you.” + +“On the contrary,” said I, “it has steadied and amplified my conception +of sublunary affairs. It has shown me that motley is much more +profitable wear than the edged toga of the senator--” + +“Oh, for God's sake, dry up,” cried young England, “and tell me what +answers I'm to give these people!” + +He seemed so earnest about it that I humoured him; and my correspondents +seemed so earnest that I humoured them. But it was a grim jest. Most of +the matters with which I had to deal appeared so trivial. Only here and +there did I find a chance for eumoiriety. The Wymington Hospital applied +for their annual donation. + +“You generally give a tenner,” said Dale. + +“This time I'll give them a couple of hundred,” said I. + +Dale earmarked the amount wonderingly; but when I ordered him to send +five pounds apiece to the authors of various begging letters he argued +vehemently and quoted the Charity Organisation Society. + +“They're frauds, all of them,” he maintained. + +“They're poor necessitous devils, at any rate,” said I, “and they want +the money more than I do.” + +This was a truth whose significance Dale was far from realising. Of +what value, indeed, is money to me? There is none to whom I can usefully +bequeath my little fortune, my sisters having each married rich men. I +shall not need even Charon's obolus when I am dead, for we have ceased +to believe in him--which is a pity, as the trip across the Styx must +have been picturesque. Why, then, should I not deal myself a happy lot +and portion by squandering my money benevolently during my lifetime? + +It behooves me, however, to walk warily in this as in other matters, for +if my actions too closely resemble those of a lunatic at large, trustees +may be appointed to administer my affairs, which would frustrate my +plans entirely. + +When my part in the morning's work was over, I informed my secretary +that I would go out and take the air till lunch-time. + +“If you've nothing better to do,” said he, “you might run round to +Eccleston Square and see my mother.” + +“For any particular reason?” + +“She wants to see you. Home for inebriate parrots or something. Gave me +a message for you this morning.” + +“I'll wait,” said I, “on Lady Kynnersley with pleasure.” + +I went out and walked down the restful covered way of the Albany to +the Piccadilly entrance, and began my taking of the air. It was a soft +November day, full of blue mist, and invested with a dying grace by a +pale sunshine struggling through thin, grey rain-cloud. It was a faded +lady of a day--a lady of waxen cheeks, attired in pearl-grey and +old lace, her dim eyes illumined by a last smile. It gave an air +of unreality to the perspective of tall buildings, and treated with +indulgent irony the passing show of humans--on foot, on omnibuses, in +cabs and motors--turning them into shadow shapes tending no whither. +I laughed to myself. They all fancied themselves so real. They all had +schemes in their heads, as if they were going to live a thousand years. +I walked westwards past the great clubs, moralising as I went, and +feeling the reaction from the excitement of Murglebed-on-Sea. I looked +up at one of my own clubs, a comfortable resting-place, and it struck +me as possessing more attractions than the family vault in Highgate +Cemetery. An acquaintance at the window waved his hand at me. I thought +him a lucky beggar to have that window to stand by when the street will +be flooded with summer sunshine and the trees in the green Park opposite +wave in their verdant bravery. A little further a radiant being, all +chiffons and millinery, on her way to Bond Street for more millinery and +chiffons, smiled at me and put forth a delicately-gloved hand. + +“Oh, Mr. de Gex, you're the very man I was longing to see!” + +“How simply are some human aspirations satisfied!” said I. + +“Farfax”--that's her husband, Farfax Glenn, a Member on my side of the +House--“Farfax and I are making plans already for the Easter recess. We +are going to motor to Athens, and you must come with us. You can tell us +all about everything as we pass by.” + +I looked grave. “Easter is late next year.” + +“What does that matter? Say you'll come.” + +“Alas! my dear Mrs. Glenn,” I said, with a smile, “I have an engagement +at Easter--a very important one.” + +“I thought the wedding was not to take place till June.” + +“It isn't the wedding,” said I. + +“Then break the engagement.” + +“It's beyond human power,” said I. + +She held up her bracelet, from which dangled some charms. + +“I think you're a ----” And she pointed to a little golden pig. + +“I'm not,” I retorted. + +“What are you, then?” + +“I'm a gentleman in a Greek tragedy.” + +We laughed and parted, and I went on my way cheered by the encounter. +I had spoken the exact truth, and found amusement in doing so. One has +often extracted humour from the contemplation of the dissolution of +others--that of the giant in “Jack the Giant-killer” for instance, and +the demise of the little boy with the pair of skates in the poem. Why +not extract it from the contemplation of one's own? + +The only disadvantage of my position is that it give me, in spite of +myself, an odd sense of isolation from my kind. They are looking forward +to Easters and Junes and summers, and I am not. I also have a fatuous +feeling of superiority in being in closer touch than they with eternal +verities. I must take care that I do not play too much to the gallery, +that I do not grow too conceited over the singularity of my situation, +and arrive at the mental attitude of the criminal whose dominant +solicitude in connection with his execution was that he should be hanged +in his dress clothes. These reflections brought me to Eccleston Square. + +Lady Kynnersley is that type of British matron who has children in fits +of absent-mindedness, and to whom their existence is a perpetual +shock. Her main idea in marrying the late Sir Thomas Kynnersley was to +associate herself with his political and philanthropic schemes. She is +the born committee woman, to whom a home represents a place where one +sleeps and eats in order to maintain the strength required for the +performance of committee duties. Her children have always been outside +the sphere of her real interests, but, afflicted, as such women are, +with chronic inflammation of the conscience, she had devoted the most +scrupulous care to their upbringing. She formed herself into a society +for the protection of her own children, and managed them by means of a +committee, which consisted of herself, and of which she was the honorary +secretary. She drew up articles of association and regulations. If Dale +contracted measles, she applied by-law 17. If Janet slapped +Dorothy, by-law 32 was brought into play. When Dale clamoured for +a rocking-horse, she found that the articles of association did not +provide for imaginative equitation. As the children grew up, the +committee had from time to time to revise the articles and submit them +to the general body for approval. There were many meetings before the +new sections relating to a University career for the boy and the coming +out for the girls were satisfactorily drafted. Once given the effect +of law, however, there was no appeal against these provisions. Both +committee and general body were powerless. Dale certainly owed his +methodical habits to his mechanical training, but whence he derived and +how he maintained his exuberance and spontaneity has often puzzled +me. He himself accounts for it on the score of heredity, in that an +ancestress of his married a highwayman who was hanged at Tyburn under +William and Mary. + +In person Lady Kynnersley is lean and blanched and grey-haired. She +wears gold spectacles, which stand out oddly against the thin whiteness +of her face; she is still a handsome, distinguished woman, who can have, +when she chooses, a most gracious manner. As I, worldling and jester +though I am, for some mysterious reason have found favour in the lady's +eyes, she manifests this graciousness whenever we foregather. Ergo, +I like Lady Kynnersley, and would put myself to much inconvenience in +order to do her a service. + +She kept me waiting in the drawing-room but a minute before she made +her appearance, grasped my hand, proclaimed my goodness in responding +so soon to her call, bade me sit down on the sofa by her side, inquired +after my health, and, the gods of politeness being propitiated, plunged +at once into the midst of matters. + +Dale was going downhill headlong to Gadarene catastrophe. He had no +eyes or ears or thoughts for any one in the world but for a certain Lola +Brandt, a brazen creature from a circus, the shape of whose limbs was +the common knowledge of mankind from Dublin to Yokohama, and whose path +by sea and land, from Yokohama to Dublin, was strewn with the bodies of +her victims. With this man-eating tigress, declared Lady Kynnersley, +was Dale infatuated. He scorched himself morning, noon, and night in her +devastating presence. Had cut himself adrift from home, from society. +Had left trailing about on his study table a jeweller's bill for a +diamond bracelet. Was committing follies that made my brain reel to +hear. Had threatened, if worried much longer, to marry the Scarlet One +incontinently. Heaven knew, cried Lady Kynnersley, how many husbands +she had already--scattered along the track between Dublin and Yokohama. +There was no doubt about it. Dale was hurtling down to everlasting +bonfire. She looked to me to hold out the restraining hand. + +“You have already spoken to Dale on the subject?” I asked, mindful of +the inharmonious socks and tie. + +“I can talk to him of nothing else,” said Lady Kynnersley desperately. + +“That's a pity,” said I. “You should talk to him of Heaven, or pigs, or +Babylonic cuneiform--anything but Lola Brandt. You ought to go to work +on a different system.” + +“But I haven't a system at all,” cried the poor lady. “How was I to +foresee that my only son was going to fall in love with a circus rider? +These are contingencies in life for which one, with all the thought in +the world, can make no provision. I had arranged, as you know, that +he should marry Maisie Ellerton, as charming a girl as ever there was. +Isn't she? And an independent fortune besides.” + +“A rosebud wrapped in a gold leaf,” I murmured. + +“Now he's breaking the child's heart----” + +“There was never any engagement between them, I am sure of that,” I +remarked. + +“There wasn't. But I gave her to understand it was a settled +affair--merely a question of Dale speaking. And, instead of speaking, +he will have nothing to do with her, and spends all his time--and, +I suppose, though I don't like to refer to it, all his money--in the +society of this unmentionable woman.” + +“Is she really so--so red as she is painted?” I asked. + +“She isn't painted at all. That's where her artful and deceitful devilry +comes in----” + +“I suppose Dale,” said I, “declares her to be an angel of light and +purity?” + +“An angel on horseback! Whoever heard of such a thing?” + +“It's the name of a rather fiery savoury,” said I. + +“In a circus!” she continued. + +“Well,” said I, “the ring of a circus is not essentially one of the +circles in Dante's Inferno.” + +“Of course, my dear Simon,” she said, with some impatience, “if you +defend him--” + +I hastened to interrupt her. “I don't. I think he is an egregious young +idiot; but before taking action it's well to get a clear idea of the +facts. By the way, how do you know she's not painted?” + +“I've seen her--seen her with my own eyes in Dale's company--at the +Savoy. He's there supping with her every night. General Lamont told +me. I wouldn't believe it--Dale flaunting about in public with her. +The General offered to take me there after the inaugural meeting of +the International Aid Society at Grosvenor House. I went, and saw them +together. I shall never forget the look in the boy's eyes till my dying +day. She has got him body and soul. One reads of such things in the +poets, one sees it in pictures; but I've never come across it in real +life--never, never. It's dreadful, horrible, revolting. To think that a +son of mine, brought up from babyhood to calculate all his actions +with mathematical precision, should be guilty of this profligacy! It's +driving me mad, Simon; it really is. I don't know what to do. I've come +to the end of my resources. It's your turn now. The boy worships you.” + +A wild appeal burned in her eyes and was refracted oddly through her +near-sighted spectacles. I had never seen her betray emotion before +during all the years of our friendship. The look and the tone of her +voice moved me. I expressed my sympathy and my readiness to do anything +in my power to snatch the infatuated boy from the claw and fang of the +syren and hale him to the forgiving feet of Maisie Ellerton. Indeed, +such a chivalrous adventure had vaguely passed through my mind during my +exalted mood at Murglebed-on-Sea. But then I knew little beyond the fact +that Dale was fluttering round an undesirable candle. Till now I had no +idea of the extent to which his wings were singed. + +“Hasn't Dale spoken to you about this creature?” his mother asked. + +“Young men of good taste keep these things from their elders, my dear +Lady Kynnersley,” said I. + +“But you knew of it?” + +“In a dim sort of way.” + +“Oh, Simon--” + +“The baby boys of Dale's set regard taking out the chorus to supper as +a solemn religious rite. They wouldn't think themselves respectable if +they didn't. I've done it myself--in moderation--when I was very young.” + +“Men are mysteries,” sighed Lady Kynnersley. + +“Please regard them as such,” said I, with a laugh, “and let Dale alone. +Allow him to do whatever irrational thing he likes, save bringing the +lady here to tea. If you try to tear him away from her he'll only cling +to her the closer. If you trumpet abroad her infamy he'll proclaim her a +slandered and martyred saint. Leave him to me for the present.” + +“I'll do so gladly,” said Lady Kynnersley, with surprising meekness. +“But you _will_ bring him back, Simon? I've arranged for him to marry +Maisie. I can't have my plans for the future upset.” + +By-law 379! Dear, excellent, but wooden-headed woman! + +“I have your promise, haven't I?” she said, her hand in mine. + +“You have,” said I nobly. + +But how in the name of Astaroth I'm going to keep it I haven't the +remotest conception. + + + +CHAPTER III + +Some letters in Dale's round handwriting lay on the library table +awaiting my signature. Dale himself had gone. A lady had called for him, +said Rogers, in an electric brougham. As my chambers are on the second +floor and the staircase half-way down the arcade, Rogers's detailed +information surprised me. I asked him how he knew. + +“A chauffeur in livery, sir, came to the door and said that the brougham +was waiting for Mr. Kynnersley.” + +“I don't see how the lady came in,” I remarked. + +“She didn't, sir. She remained in the brougham,” said Rogers. + +So Lola Brandt keeps an electric brougham. + +I lunched at the club, and turned up the article “Lola Brandt” in the +living encyclopaedia--that was my friend Renniker. The wonderful man +gave me her history from the cradle to Cadogan Gardens, where she now +resides. I must say that his details were rather vague. She rode in a +circus or had a talking horse--he was not quite sure; and concerning +her conjugal or extra-conjugal heart affairs he admitted that his +information was either unauthenticated or conjectural. At any rate, she +had not a shred of reputation. And she didn't want it, said Renniker; it +would be as much use to her as a diving suit. + +“She has young Dale Kynnersley in tow,” he remarked. + +“So I gather,” said I. “And now can you tell me something else? What is +the present state of political parties in Guatemala?” + +I was not in the least interested in Guatemala; but I did not care to +discuss Dale with Renniker. When he had completed his sketch of affairs +in that obscure republic, I thanked him politely and ordered coffee. + +Feeling in a gregarious, companionable humour--I have had enough +solitude at Murglebed to last me the rest of my short lifetime--I went +later in the afternoon to Sussex Gardens to call on Mrs. Ellerton. It +was her day at home, and the drawing-room was filled with chattering +people. I stayed until most of them were gone, and then Maisie dragged +me to the inner room, where a table was strewn with the wreckage of tea. + +“I haven't had any,” she said, grasping the teapot and pouring a treacly +liquid into a cup. “You must have some more. Do you like it black, or +with milk?” + +She is a dainty slip of a girl, with deep grey eyes and wavy brown hair +and a sea-shell complexion. I absently swallowed the abomination she +handed me, for I was looking at her over the teacup and wondering how +an exquisite-minded gentleman like Dale could forsake her for a Lola +Brandt. It was not as if Maisie were an empty-headed, empty-natured +little girl. She is a young person of sense, education, and character. +She also adores musical comedy and a band at dinner: an excellent thing +in woman--when she is very young. + +“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. + +“Because, my dear Maisie,” said I, “you are good to look upon. You are +also dropping a hairpin.” + +She hastily secured the dangling thing. “I did my hair anyhow to-day,” + she explained. + +Again I thought of Dale's tie and socks. The signs of a lover's +“careless desolation,” described by Rosalind so minutely, can still be +detected in modern youth of both sexes. I did not pursue the question, +but alluded to autumn gaieties. She spoke of them without enthusiasm. +Miss Somebody's wedding was very dull, and Mrs. Somebody Else's dance +manned with vile and vacuous dancers. At the Opera the greatest of +German sopranos sang false. All human institutions had taken a crooked +turn, and her cat could not be persuaded to pay the commonest attention +to its kittens. Then she asked me nonchalantly: + +“Have you seen anything of Dale lately?” + +“He was working with me this morning. I've been away, you know.” + +“I forgot.” + +“When did you last see him?” I asked. + +“Oh, ages ago! He has not been near us for weeks. We used to be such +friends. I don't think it's very polite of him, do you?” + +“I'll order him to call forthwith,” said I. + +“Oh, please don't! If he won't come of his own accord--I don't want to +see him particularly.” + +She tossed her shapely head and looked at me bravely. + +“You are quite right,” said I. “Dale's a selfish, ill-mannered young +cub.” + +“He isn't!” she flashed. “How dare you say such things about him!” + +I smiled and took both her hands--one of them held a piece of brown +bread-and-butter. + +“My dear,” said I, “model yourself on Little Bo-Peep. I don't know who +gave her the famous bit of advice, but I think it was I myself in a +pastoral incarnation. I had a woolly cloak and a crook, and she was like +a Dresden china figure--the image of you.” + +Her eyes swam, but she laughed and said I was good to her. I said: + +“The man who wouldn't be good to you is an unhung villain.” + +Then her mother joined us, and our little confidential talk came to an +end. It was enough, however, to convince me that my poor little Ariadne +was shedding many desperate tears in secret over her desertion. + +On my way home I looked in on my doctor. His name is Hunnington. He +grasped me by the hand and eagerly inquired whether my pain was worse. I +said it was not. He professed delight, but looked disappointed. I ought +to have replied in the affirmative. It is so easy to make others happy. + +I dined, read a novel, and went to sleep in the cheerful frame of mind +induced by the consciousness of having made some little progress on the +path of eumoiriety. + +The next morning Dale made his customary appearance. He wore a morning +coat, a dark tie, and patent-leather boots. + +“Well,” said I, “have you dressed more carefully today?” + +He looked himself anxiously over and inquired whether there was anything +wrong. I assured him of the impeccability of his attire, and commented +on its splendour. + +“Are you going to take Maisie out to lunch?” + +He started and reddened beneath his dark skin. Before he could speak I +laid my hand on his shoulder. + +“I'm an old friend, Dale. You mustn't be angry with me. But don't you +think you're treating Maisie rather badly?” + +“You've no right to say so,” he burst out hotly. “No one has the right +to say so. There was never a question of an engagement between Maisie +and myself.” + +“Then there ought to have been,” I said judicially. “No decent man plays +fast and loose with a girl and throws her over just at the moment when +he ought to be asking her to marry him.” + +“I suppose my mother's been at you. That's what she wanted to see you +about yesterday. I wish to God she would mind her own business.” + +“And that I would mind mine?” + +Dale did not reply. For some odd reason he is devotedly attached to me, +and respects my opinion on worldly matters. He walked to the window and +looked out. Presently, without turning round, he said: + +“I suppose she has been rubbing it in about Lola Brandt?” + +“She did mention the lady's name,” said I. “So did Renniker at the club. +I suppose every one you know and many you don't are mentioning it.” + +“Well, what if they are?” + +“They're creating an atmosphere about your name which is scarcely that +in which to make an entrance into public life.” + +Still with his back turned, he morosely informed me in his vernacular +that he contemplated public life with feelings of indifference, and was +perfectly prepared to abandon his ambitions. I took up my parable, the +same old parable that wise seniors have preached to the deluded young +from time immemorial. I have seldom held forth so platitudinously even +in the House of Commons. I spoke as impressively as a bishop. In the +midst of my harangue he came and sat by the library table and rested +his chin on his palm, looking at me quietly out of his dark eyes. His +mildness encouraged me to further efforts. I instanced cases of other +young men of the world who had gone the way of the flesh and had ended +at the devil. + +There was Paget, of the Guards, eaten to the bone by the Syren--not even +the gold lace on his uniform left. There was Merridew, once the hope +of the party, now living in ignoble obscurity with an old and painted +mistress, whom he detested, but to whom habit and sapped will-power kept +him in thrall. There was Bullen, who blew his brains out. In a generous +glow I waxed prophetic and drew a vivid picture of Dale's moral, mental, +physical, financial, and social ruin, and finished up in a masterly +peroration. + +Then, without moving, he calmly said: + +“My dear Simon, you are talking through your hat!” + +He had allowed me to walk backwards and forwards on the hearthrug before +a blazing fire, pouring out the wealth of my wisdom, experience, and +rhetoric for ten minutes by the clock, and then coolly informed me that +I was talking through my hat. + +I wiped my forehead, sat down, and looked at him across the table in +surprise and indignation. + +“If you can point out one irrelevant or absurd remark in my homily, I'll +eat the hat through which you say I'm talking.” + +“The whole thing is rot from beginning to end!” said he. “None of you +good people know anything at all about Lola Brandt. She's not the +sort of woman you think. She's quite different. You can't judge her by +ordinary standards. There's not a woman like her in the wide world!” + +I made a gesture of discouragement. The same old parable of the wise +had evoked the same old retort from the deluded young. She was quite +different from other women. She was misunderstood by the cynical and +gross-minded world. A heart of virgin purity beat beneath her mercenary +bosom. Her lurid past had been the reiterated martyrdom of a noble +nature. O Golden Age! O unutterable silliness of Boyhood! + +“For Heaven's sake, don't talk in that way!” he cried (I had been +talking in that way), and he rose and walked like a young tiger about +the room. “I can't stand it. I've gone mad about her. She has got into +my blood somehow. I think about her all day long, and I can't sleep at +night. I would give up any mortal thing on earth for her. She is the one +woman in the world for me! She's the dearest, sweetest, tenderest, most +beautiful creature God ever made!” + +“And you honour and respect her--just as you would honour and respect +Maisie?” I asked quietly. + +“Of course I do!” he flashed. “Don't I tell you that you know nothing +whatever about her? She is the dearest, sweetest----” etc., etc. And he +continued to trumpet forth the Olympian qualities of the Syren and his +own fervent adoration. I was the only being to whom he had opened his +heart, and, the floodgates being set free, the torrent burst forth in +this tempestuous and incoherent manner. I let him go on, for I thought +it did him good; but his rhapsody added very little to my information. + +The lady who had “houp-la'd” her way from Dublin to Yokohama was the +spotless queen of beauty, and Dale was frenziedly, idiotically in love +with her. That was all I could gather. When he had finished, which he +did somewhat abruptly, he threw himself into a chair and took out his +cigarette-case with shaky fingers. + +“There. I suppose I've made a damn-fool exhibition of myself,” he said, +defiantly. “What have you got to say about it?” + +“Precisely,” I replied, “what I said before. I'll repeat it, if you +like.” + +Indeed, what more was there to say for the present about the lunatic +business? I had come to the end of my arguments. + +He reflected for a moment, then rose and came over to the fireplace. + +“Look here, Simon, you must let me go my own way in this. In matters of +politics and worldly wisdom and social affairs and honourable dealing +and all that sort of thing I would follow you blindly. You're my chief, +and a kind of elder brother as well. I would do any mortal thing for +you. You know that. But you've no right to try to guide me in this +matter. You know no more about it than my mother. You've had no +experience. You've never let yourself go about a woman in your life. +Lord of Heaven, man, you have never begun to know what it means!” + +Oh, dear me! Here was the situation as old as the return of the Prodigal +or the desertion of the trusting village maiden, or any other cliche in +the melodrama of real life. “You are making a fool of yourself,” says +Mentor. “Ah,” shrieks Telemachus, “but you never loved! You don't know +what love is.” + +I looked at him whimsically. + +“Don't I?” + +My thoughts sped back down the years to a garden in France. Her name was +Clothilde. We met in a manner outrageous to Gallic propriety, as I used +to climb over the garden wall to the peril of my epidermis. We loved. We +were parted by stern parents--not mine--and Clothilde was packed off to +the good Sisters who had previously had care of her education. Now she +is fat and happy, and the wife of a banker and the mother of children. + +But the romance was sad and bad and mad enough while it lasted; and when +Clothilde was (figuratively) dragged from my arms I cursed and swore and +out-Heroded Herod, played Termagant, and summoned the heavens to fall +down and crush me miserable beneath their weight. And then her brother +challenged me to fight a duel, whereupon, as the most worshipped of all +She's had not received a ha'porth of harm at my hands, I called him a +silly ass and threatened to break his head if he interfered any more +in my legitimate despair. I smile at it now; but it was real at +two-and-twenty--as real, I take it, as Dale's consuming passion for the +lady of the circus. + +There was also, I remembered, a certain ---- But this had nothing to do +with Dale. Neither had the tragedy of my lost Clothilde. The memories, +however, brought a wistful touch of sympathy into my voice. + +“You soberly think, my dear old Dale,” said I, “that I know nothing of +love and passion and the rest of the divine madness?” + +“I'm sure you don't,” he cried, with an impatient gesture. “If you did, +you wouldn't--” + +He came to an abrupt and confused halt. + +“I wouldn't--what?” + +“Nothing. I forgot what I was going to say. Let us talk of something +else.” + +“It was on the tip of your impulsive tongue,” said I cheerfully, “to +refer to my attitude towards Miss Faversham.” + +“I'm desperately sorry,” said he, reddening. “It was unpardonable. But +how did you guess?” + +I laughed and quoted the Latin tag about the ingenuous boy of the +ingenuous visage and ingenuous modesty. + +“Because I don't feverishly search the postbag for a letter from Miss +Faversham you conclude I'm a bloodless automaton?” + +“Please don't say any more about it, Simon,” he pleaded in deep +distress. + +A sudden idea struck me. I reflected, walked to the window, and, having +made up my mind, sat down again. I had a weapon to hand which I had +overlooked, and with the discovery came a weak craving for the boy's +sympathy. I believe I care more for him than for any living creature. I +decided to give him some notion of my position. + +Sooner or later he would have to learn it. + +“I would rather like to tell you something,” said I, “about my +engagement--in confidence, of course. When Eleanor Faversham comes back +I propose to ask her to release me from it.” + +He drew a long breath. “I'm glad. She's an awfully nice girl, but +she's no more in love with you than my mother is. But it'll be rather +difficult, won't it?” + +“I don't think so,” I replied, shaking my head. “It's a question of +health. My doctors absolutely forbid it.” + +A look of affectionate alarm sprang into his eyes. He broke into +sympathy. My health? Why had I not told him before? In Heaven's name, +what was the matter with me? + +“Something silly,” said I. “Nothing you need worry about on my account. +Only I must go _piano_ for the rest of my days. Marriage isn't to be +thought of. There is something else I must tell you. I must resign my +seat.” + +“Resign your seat? Give up Parliament? When?” + +“As soon as possible.” + +He looked at me aghast, as if the world were coming to an end. + +“We had better concoct an epistle to Raggles this morning.” + +“But you can't be serious?” + +“I can sometimes, my dear Dale. This is one of the afflicting +occasions.” + +“You out of Parliament? You out of public life? It's inconceivable. It's +damnable. But you're just coming into your own--what Raggles said, what +I told you yesterday. But it can't be. You can hold on. I'll do all the +drudgery for you. I'll work night and day.” + +And he tramped up and down the room, uttering the disconnected phrases +which an honest young soul unaccustomed to express itself emotionally +blurts out in moments of deep feeling. + +“It's no use, Dale,” said I, “I've got my marching orders.” + +“But why should they come just now?” + +“When the sweets of office are dangling at my lips? It's pretty simple.” + I laughed. “It's one of the little ironies that please the high gods +so immensely. They have an elementary sense of humour--like that of +the funny fellow who pulls your chair from under you and shrieks with +laughter when you go wallop on to the floor. Well, I don't grudge them +their amusement. They must have a dull time settling mundane affairs, +and a little joke goes a long way with them, as it does in the House +of Commons. Fancy sitting on those green benches legislating for all +eternity, with never a recess and never even a dinner hour! Poor high +gods! Let us pity them.” + +I looked at him and smiled, perhaps a little wearily. One can always +command one's eyes, but one's lips sometimes get out of control. He +could not have noticed my lips, however, for he cried: + +“By George, you're splendid! I wish I could take a knock-out blow like +that!” + +“You'll have to one of these days. It's the only way of taking it. And +now,” said I, in a businesslike tone, “I've told you all this with a +purpose. At Wymington it will be a case of 'Le Roi est mort. Vive le +Roi!' The vacancy will have to be filled up at once. We'll have to find +a suitable candidate. Have you one in your mind?” + +“Not a soul.” + +“I have.” + +“Who?” + +“You.” + +“Me?” He nearly sprang into the air with astonishment. + +“Why not?” + +“They'd never adopt me.” + +“I think they would,” I said. “There are men in the House as young as +you. You're well known at Wymington and at headquarters as my right-hand +man. You've done some speaking--you do it rather well; it's only +your private conversational style that's atrocious. You've got a name +familiar in public life up and down the country, thanks to your father +and mother. It's a fairly safe seat. I see no reason why they shouldn't +adopt you. Would you like it?” + +“Like it?” he cried. “Why I'd give my ears for it.” + +“Then,” said I, playing my winning card, “let us hear no more about Lola +Brandt.” + +He gave me a swift glance, and walked up and down the room for a while +in silence. Presently he halted in front of me. + +“Look here, Simon, you're a beast, but”--he smiled frankly at the +quotation--“you're a just beast. You oughtn't to rub it in like that +about Lola until you have seen her yourself. It isn't fair.” + +“You speak now in language distinctly approaching that of reason,” I +remarked. “What do you want me to do?” + +“Come with me this afternoon and see her.” + +My young friend had me nicely in the trap. I could not refuse. + +“Very well,” said I. “But on the distinct understanding--” + +“Oh, on any old understanding you like!” he cried, and darted to the +door. + +“Where are you going?” + +“To ring her up on the telephone and tell her you're coming.” + +That's the worst of the young. They have such a disconcerting manner of +clinching one's undertakings. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +My first impression of Lola Brandt in the dimness of the room was that +of a lithe panther in petticoats rising lazily from the depths of an +easy chair. A sinuous action of the arm, as she extended her hand to +welcome me, was accompanied by a curiously flexible turn of the body. +Her hand as it enveloped, rather than grasped, mine seemed boneless but +exceedingly powerful. An indoor dress of brown and gold striped Indian +silk clung to her figure, which, largely built, had an appearance of +great strength. Dark bronze hair and dark eyes, that in the soft light +of the room glowed with deep gold reflections, completed the pantherine +suggestion. She seemed to be on the verge of thirty. A most dangerous +woman, I decided--one to be shut up in a cage with thick iron bars. + +“It's charming of you to come. I've heard so much of you from Mr. +Kynnersley. Do sit down.” + +Her voice was lazy and languorous and caressing like the purr of a great +cat; and there was something exotic in her accent, something seductive, +something that ought to be prohibited by the police. She sank into her +low chair by the fire, indicating one for me square with the hearthrug. +Dale, so as to leave me a fair conversational field with the lady, +established himself on the sofa some distance off, and began to talk +with a Chow dog, with whom he was obviously on terms of familiarity. +Madame Brandt make a remark about the Chow dog's virtues, to which I +politely replied. She put him through several tricks. I admired his +talent. She declared her affections to be divided between Adolphus (that +was the Chow dog's name) and an ouistiti, who was confined to bed for +the present owing to the evil qualities of the November air. For the +first time I blessed the English climate. I hate little monkeys. I also +felt a queer disappointment. A woman like that ought to have caught an +ourang-outang. + +She guessed my thought in an uncanny manner, and smiled, showing strong, +white, even teeth--the most marvellous teeth I have ever beheld--so even +as to constitute almost a deformity. + +“I'm fonder of bigger animals,” she said. “I was born among them. +My father was a lion tamer, so I know all the ways of beasts. I love +bears--I once trained one to drive a cart--but”--with a sigh--“you can't +keep bears in Cadogan Gardens.” + +“You may get hold of a human one now and then,” said Dale. + +“I've no doubt Madame Brandt could train him to dance to whatever tune +she played,” said I. + +She turned her dark golden eyes lazily, slumberously on me. + +“Why do you say that, Mr. de Gex?” + +This was disconcerting. Why had I said it? For no particular reason, +save to keep up a commonplace conversation in which I took no absorbing +interest. It was a direct challenge. Young Dale stopped playing with the +Chow dog and grinned. It behooved me to say something. I said it with a +bow and a wave of my hand: + +“Because, though your father was a lion-tamer, your mother was a woman.” + +She appeared to reflect for a moment; then addressing Dale: + +“The answer doesn't amount to a ha'porth of cats'-meat, but you couldn't +have got out of it like that.” + +I was again disconcerted, but I remarked that he would learn in time +when my mentorship was over and I handed him, a finished product, to +society. + +“How long will that be?” she asked. + +“I don't know. Are you anxious for his immediate perfecting?” + +Her shoulders gave what in ordinary women would have been a shrug: with +her it was a slow ripple. I vow if her neck had been bare one could have +seen it undulate beneath the skin. + +“What is perfection?” + +“Can you ask?” laughed Dale. “Behold!” And he pointed to me. + +“That's cheap,” said the lady. “I've heard Auguste say cleverer things.” + +“Who's Auguste?” asked Dale. + +“Auguste,” said I, “is the generic name of the clown in the French +Hippodrome.” + +“Oh, the Circus!” cried Dale. + +“I'll be glad if you'll teach him to call it the Hippodrome, Mr. de +Gex,” she remarked, with another of her slumberous glances. + +“That will be one step nearer perfection,” said I. + +The short November twilight had deepened into darkness; the fire, which +was blazing when we entered, had settled into a glow, and the room was +lit by one shaded lamp. To me the dimness was restful, but Dale, who, +with the crude instincts of youth, loves glare, began to fidget, and +presently asked whether he might turn on the electric light. Permission +was given. My hostess invited me to smoke and, to hand her a box of +cigarettes which lay on the mantelpiece, I rose, bent over her while +she lit her cigarette from my match, and resuming an upright position, +became rooted to the hearthrug. + +With the flood of illumination, disclosing everything that hitherto had +been wrapped in shadow and mystery, came a shock. + +It was a most extraordinary, perplexing room. The cheap and the costly, +the rare and the common, the exquisite and the tawdry jostled one +another on walls and floor. At one end of the Louis XVI sofa on which +Dale had been sitting lay a boating cushion covered with a Union Jack, +at the other a cushion covered with old Moorish embroidery. The chair +I had vacated I discovered to be of old Spanish oak and stamped Cordova +leather bearing traces of a coat-of-arms in gold. My hostess lounged in +a low characterless seat amid a mass of heterogeneous cushions. There +were many flowers in the room--some in Cloisonne vases, others in +gimcrack vessels such as are bought at country fairs. On the mantelpiece +and on tables were mingled precious ivories from Japan, trumpery chalets +from the Tyrol, choice bits of Sevres and Venetian glass, bottles with +ladders and little men inside them, vulgar china fowls sitting on eggs, +and a thousand restless little objects screeching in dumb agony at one +another. + +The more one looked the more confounded became confusion. Lengths of +beautifully embroidered Chinese silk formed curtains for the doors and +windows; but they were tied back with cords ending in horrible little +plush monkeys in lieu of tassels. A Second Empire gilt mirror hung over +the Louis XVI sofa, and was flanked on the one side by a villainous +German print of “The Huntsman's Return” and on the other by a dainty +water-colour. Myriads of photographs, some in frames, met the eye +everywhere--on the grand piano, on the occasional tables, on the +mantelpiece, stuck obliquely all round the Queen Anne mirror above it, +on the walls. Many of them represented animals--bears and lions and +pawing horses. Dale's photograph I noticed in a silver frame on the +piano. There was not a book in the place. But in the corner of the room +by a further window gleamed a large marble Venus of Milo, charmingly +executed, who stood regarding the welter with eyes calm and unconcerned. + +I was aroused from the momentary shock caused by the revelation of +this eccentric apartment by an unknown nauseous flavour in my mouth. +I realised it was the cigarette to which I had helped myself from the +beautifully chased silver casket I had taken from the mantelpiece. I +eyed the thing and concluded it was made of the very cheapest tobacco, +and was what the street urchin calls a “fag.” I learned afterwards that +I was right. She purchased them at the rate of six for a penny, and +smoked them in enormous quantities. For politeness' sake I continued +to puff at the unclean thing until I nearly made myself sick. Then, +simulating absentmindedness, I threw it into the fire. + +Why, in the sacred name of Nicotine, does a luxurious lady like Lola +Brandt smoke such unutterable garbage? + +On the other hand, the tea which she offered us a few minutes later, and +begged us to drink without milk, was the most exquisite I have tasted +outside Russia. She informed us that she got it direct from Moscow. + +“I can't stand your black Ceylon tea,” she remarked, with a grimace. + +And yet she could smoke “fags.” I wondered what other contradictious +tastes she possessed. No doubt she could eat blood puddings with relish +and had a discriminating palate for claret. Truly, a perplexing lady. + +“You must find leisure in London a great change after your adventurous +career,” said I, by way of polite conversation. + +“I just love it. I'm as lazy as a cat,” she said, settling with her +pantherine grace among the cushions. “Do you know what has been my +ambition ever since I was a kid?” + +“Whatever of woman's ambitions you had you must have attained,” said I, +with a bow. + +“Pooh!” she said. “You mean that I can have crowds of men falling +in love with me. That's rubbish.” She was certainly frank. “I meant +something quite different. I wonder whether you can understand. The +world used to seem to me divided into two classes that never met--we +performing people and the public, the thousand white faces that looked +at us and went away and talked to other white faces and forgot all about +performing animals till they came next time. Now I've got what I wanted. +See? I'm one of the public.” + +“And you love Philistia better than Bohemia?” I asked. + +She knitted her brows and looked at me puzzled. + +“If you want to talk to me,” she said, “you must talk straight. I've had +no more education than a tinker's dog.” + +She made this peculiar announcement, not defiantly, not rudely, but +appealingly, graciously. It was not a rebuke for priggishness; it was +the unpresentable statement of a fact. I apologized for a lunatic habit +of speech and paraphrased my question. + +“In a word,” cried Dale, coming in on my heels with an elucidation of my +periphrasis, “what de Gex is driving at is--Do you prefer respectability +to ramping round?” + +She turned slowly to him. “My dear boy, when do you think I was not +respectable?” + +He jumped from the sofa as if the Chow dog had bitten him. + +“Good Heavens, I never meant you to take it that way!” + +She laughed, stretched up a lazy arm to him, and looked at him somewhat +quizzically in the face as he kissed her finger-tips. Although I could +have boxed the silly fellow's ears, I vow he did it in a very pretty +fashion. The young man of the day, as a general rule, has no more notion +how to kiss a woman's hand than how to take snuff or dance a pavane. +Indeed, lots of them don't know how to kiss a girl at all. + +“My dear,” she said. “I was much more respectable sitting on the stage +at tea with my horse, Sultan, than supping with you at the Savoy. You +don't know the deadly respectability of most people in the profession, +and the worst of it is that while we're being utterly dull and dowdy, +the public think we're having a devil of a time. So we don't even get +the credit of our virtues. I prefer the Savoy--and this.” She turned to +me. “It is nice having decent people to tea. Do you know what I should +love? I should love to have an At Home day--and receive ladies, real +ladies. And I have such a sweet place, haven't I?” + +“You have many beautiful things around you,” said I truthfully. + +She sighed. “I should like more people to see them.” + +“In fact,” said I, “you have social ambitions, Madame Brandt?” + +She looked at me for a moment out of the corner of her eye. + +“Are you skinning me?” she asked. + +Where she had picked up this eccentric metaphor I know not. She had many +odd turns of language as yet not current among the fashionable classes. +I gravely assured her that I was not sarcastic. I commended her +praiseworthy aspirations. + +“But,” said I innocently, “don't you miss the hard training, the +physical exercise, the delight of motion, the excitement, the----?”--my +vocabulary failing me, I sketched with a gesture the equestrienne's +classical encouragement to her steed. + +She looked at me uncomprehendingly. + +“The what?” she asked. + +“What are you playing at?” inquired Dale. + +“I was referring to the ring,” said I. + +They both burst out laughing, to my discomfiture. + +“What do you take me for? A circus rider? Performing in a tent and +living in a caravan? You think I jump through a hoop in tights?” + +“All I can say,” I murmured, by way of apology, “is that it's a +mendacious world. I'm deeply sorry.” + +Why had I been misled in this shameful manner? + +Madame Brandt with lazy good nature accepted my excuses. + +“I'm what is professionally known as a _dompteuse_,” she explained. “Of +course, when I was a kid I was trained as an acrobat, for my father was +poor; but when he grew rich and the owner of animals, which he did when +I was fourteen, I joined him and worked with him all over the world +until I went on my own. Do you mean to say you never heard of me?” + +“Madame Brandt,” said I, “the last thing to be astonished at is human +ignorance. Do you know that 30 per cent of the French army at the +present day have never heard of the Franco-Prussian War?” + +“My dear Simon,” cried Dale, “the two things don't hang together. The +Franco-Prussian War is not advertised all over France like Beecham's +Pills, whereas six years ago you couldn't move two steps in London +without seeing posters of Lola Brandt and her horse Sultan.” + +“Ah, the horse!” said I. “That's how the wicked circus story got about.” + +“It was the last act I ever did,” said Madame Brandt. “I taught +Sultan--oh, he was a dear, beautiful thing--to count and add up and +guess articles taken from the audience. I was at the Hippodrome. Then +at the Nouveau Cirque at Paris; I was at St. Petersburg, Vienna, +Berlin--all over Europe with Sultan.” + +“And where is Sultan now?” I asked. + +“He is dead. Somebody poisoned him,” she replied, looking into the fire. +After a pause she continued in a low voice, singularly like the growl of +a wrathful animal, “If ever I meet that man alive it will go hard with +him.” + +At that moment the door opened and the servant announced: + +“Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos!” + +Whereupon the shortest creature that ever bore so lengthy a name, a +dwarf not more than four feet high, wearing a frock coat and bright +yellow gloves, entered the room, and crossing it at a sort of trot fell +on his knees by the side of Madame Brandt's chair. + +_“Ah! Carissima, je vous vois enfin, Ach liebes Herz! Que j'ai envie de +pleurer!”_ + +Madame Brandt smiled, took the creature's head between her hands and +kissed his forehead. She also caressed his shoulders. + +“My dear Anastasius, how good it is to see you. Where have you been this +long time? Why didn't you write and let me know you were in England? +But, see, Anastasius, I have visitors. Let me introduce you.” + +She spoke in French fluently, but with a frank British accent, which +grated on a fastidious ear. The dwarf rose, made two solemn bows, and +declared himself enchanted. Although his head was too large for +his body, he was neither ill-made nor repulsive. He looked about +thirty-five. A high forehead, dark, mournful eyes, and a black moustache +and imperial gave him an odd resemblance to Napoleon the Third. + +“I arrived from New York this morning, with my cats. Oh, a mad success. +I have one called Phoebus, because he drives a chariot drawn by six +rats. Phoebus Apollo was the god of the sun. I must show him to you, +Madonna. You would love him as I love you. And I also have an angora, +my beautiful Santa Bianca. And you, gentlemen”--he turned to Dale and +myself and addressed us in his peculiar jargon of French, German, +and Italian--“you must come and see my cats if I can get a London +engagement. At present I must rest. The artist needs repose sometimes. +I will sun myself in the smiles of our dear lady here, and my pupil and +assistant, Quast, can look after my cats. Meanwhile the brain of the +artist,” he tapped his brow, “needs to lie fallow so that he can invent +fresh and daring combinations. Do such things interest you, messieurs?” + +“Vastly,” said I. + +He pulled out of his breast pocket an enormous gilt-bound pocket-book, +bearing a gilt monogram of such size that it looked like a cartouche +on an architectural panel, and selected therefrom three cards which he +gravely distributed among us. They bore the legend: + + +PROFESSOR ANASTASIUS PAPADOPOULOS + +GOLD AND SILVER MEDALLIST + +THE CAT KING + +LE ROI DES CHATS + +DER KATZEN KONIG + +London Agents: MESSRS. CONTO & BLAG, + +172 Maiden Lane, W.C. + + +“There,” said he, “I am always to be found, should you ever require my +services. I have a masterpiece in my head. I come on to the scene like +Bacchus drawn by my two cats. How are the cats to draw my heavy weight? +I'll have a noiseless clockwork arrangement that will really propel the +car. You must come and see it.” + +“Delighted, I'm sure,” said Dale, who stood looking down on the +Liliputian egotist with polite wonder. Lola Brandt glanced at him +apologetically. + +“You mustn't mind him, Dale. He has only two ideas in his head, his cats +and myself. He's devoted to me.” + +“I don't think I shall be jealous,” said Dale in a low voice. + +“Foolish boy!” she whispered. + +During the love scene, which was conducted in English, a language which +Mr. Papadopoulos evidently did not understand, the dwarf scowled at Dale +and twirled his moustache fiercely. In order to attract Madame Brandt's +attention he fetched a packet of papers from his pocket and laid them +with a flourish on the tea-table. + +“Here are the documents,” said he. + +“What documents?” + +“A full inquiry into the circumstances attending the death of Madame +Brandt's horse Sultan.” + +“Have you found out anything, Anastasius?” she asked, in the indulgent +tone in which one addresses an eager child. + +“Not exactly,” said he. “But I have a conviction that by this means the +murderer will be brought to justice. To this I have devoted my life--in +your service.” + +He put his hand on the spot of his tightly buttoned frock-coat that +covered his heart, and bowed profoundly. It was obvious that he resented +our presence and desired to wipe us out of our hostess's consideration. +I glanced ironically at Dale's disgusted face, and smiled at the +imperfect development of his sense of humour. Indeed, to the young, +humour is only a weapon of offence. It takes a philosopher to use it as +defensive armour. Dale burned to outdo Mr. Papadopoulos. I, having +no such ambition, laid my hand on his arm and went forward to take my +leave. + +“Madame Brandt,” said I, “old friends have doubtless much to talk +over. I thank you for the privilege you have afforded me of making your +acquaintance.” + +She rose and accompanied us to the landing outside the flat door. +After saying good-bye to Dale, who went down with his boyish tread, she +detained me for a second or two, holding my hand, and again her clasp +enveloped it like some clinging sea-plant. She looked at me very +wistfully. + +“The next time you come, Mr. de Gex, do come as a friend and not as an +enemy.” + +I was startled. I thought I had conducted the interview with peculiar +suavity. + +“An enemy, dear lady?” + +“Yes. Can't I see it?” she said in her languorous, caressing voice. “And +I should love to have you for a friend. You could be such a good one. I +have so few.” + +“I must argue this out with you another time,” said I diplomatically. + +“That's a promise,” said Lola Brandt. + +“What's a promise?” asked Dale, when I joined him in the hall. + +“That I will do myself the pleasure of calling on Madame again.” + +The porter whistled for a cab. A hansom drove up. As my destination was +the Albany, and as I knew Dale was going home to Eccleston Square, I +held out my hand. + +“Good-bye, Dale. I'll see you to-morrow.” + +“But aren't you going to tell me what you think of her?” he cried in +great dismay. + +The pavement was muddy, the evening dark, and a gusty wind blew the +drizzle into our faces. It is only the preposterously young who expect +a man to rhapsodise over somebody else's inamorata at such a moment. I +turned up the fur collar of my coat. + +“She is good-looking,” said I. + +“Any idiot can see that!” he burst out impatiently. “I want to know what +opinion you formed of her.” + +I reflected. If I could have labelled her as the Scarlet Woman, the +Martyred Saint, the Jolly Bohemian, or the Bold Adventuress, my task +would have been easy. But I had an uncomfortable feeling that Lola +Brandt was not to be classified in so simple a fashion. I took refuge in +a negative. + +“She would hardly be a success,” said I, “in serious political circles.” + +With that I made my escape. + + + +CHAPTER V + +I wish I had not called on Lola Brandt. She disturbs me to the point +of nightmare. In a fit of dream paralysis last night I fancied myself +stalked by a panther, which in the act of springing turned into Lola +Brandt. What she would have done I know not, for I awoke; but I have +a haunting sensation that she was about to devour me. Now, a woman who +would devour a sleeping Member of Parliament is not a fit consort for a +youth about to enter on a political career. + +The woman worries me. I find myself speculating on her character while +I ought to be minding my affairs; and this I do on her own account, +without any reference to my undertaking to rescue Dale from her +clutches. Her obvious attributes are lazy good nature and swift +intuition, which are as contrary as her tastes in tobacco and tea; but +beyond the obvious lurks a mysterious animal power which repels and +attracts. Were not her expressions rather melancholy than sensuous, +rather benevolent than cruel, one might take her as a model for Queen +Berenice or the estimable lady monarchs who yielded themselves adorably +to a gentleman's kisses in the evening and saw to it that his head +was nicely chopped off in the morning. I can quite understand Dale's +infatuation. She may be as worthless as you please, but she is by no +means the vulgar syren I was led to expect. I wish she were. My task +would be easier. Why hasn't he fallen in love with one of the chorus +whom his congeners take out to supper? He is an aggravating fellow. + +I have declined to discuss her merits or demerits with him. I could +scarcely do that with dignity, said I; a remark which seemed to impress +him with a sense of my honesty. I asked what were his intentions +regarding her. I discovered that they were still indefinite. In his +exalted moments he talked of marriage. + +“But what has become of her husband?” I inquired, drawing a bow at a +venture. + +“I suppose he's dead,” said Dale. + +“But suppose he isn't?” + +He informed me in his young magnificence that Lola and himself would be +above foolish moral conventions. + +“Indeed?” said I. + +“Don't pretend to be a Puritan,” said he. + +“I don't pretend to like the idea, anyhow,” I remarked. + +He shrugged his shoulders. It was not the time for a lecture on +morality. + +“How do you know that the lady returns your passion?” I asked, watching +him narrowly. + +He grew red. “Is that a fair question?” + +“Yes,” said I. “You invited me to call on her and judge the affair for +myself. I'm doing it. How far have things gone up to now?” + +He flashed round on me. Did I mean to insinuate that there was anything +wrong? There wasn't. How could I dream of such a thing? He was vastly +indignant. + +“Well, my dear boy,” said I, “you've just this minute been scoffing at +foolish moral conventions. If you want to know my opinion,” I continued, +after a pause, “it is this--she doesn't care a scrap for you.” + +Of course I was talking nonsense. + +I did not condescend to argue. Neither did I dwell upon the fact that +her affection had not reached the point of informing him whether she +had a husband, and if so, whether he was alive or dead. This gives me an +idea. Suppose I can prove to him beyond a shadow of doubt that the lady, +although flattered by the devotion of a handsome young fellow of birth +and breeding, does not, as I remarked, care a scrap for him. Suppose I +exhibit her to him in the arms, figuratively speaking, of her husband +(providing one is lurking in some back-alley of the world), Mr. +Anastasius Papadopoulos, a curate, or a champion wrestler. He would do +desperate things for a month or two; but then he would wake up sane +one fine morning and seek out Maisie Ellerton in a salutary state of +penitence. I wish I knew a curate who combined a passion for bears and a +yearning for ladylike tea-parties. I would take him forthwith to Cadogan +Gardens. Lola Brandt and himself would have tastes in common and would +fall in love with each other on the spot. + +Of course there is the other time-honoured plan which I have not yet +tried--to arm myself with diplomacy, call on Madame Brandt, and, working +on her feelings, persuade her in the name of the boy's mother and +sweetheart to make a noble sacrifice in the good, old-fashioned way. But +this seems such an unhumourous proceeding. If I am to achieve eumoiriety +I may as well do it with some distinction. + + + +“Who doth Time gallop withal?” asks Orlando. + +“With a thief to the gallows,” says Rosalind. It is true. The days +have an uncanny way of racing by. I see my little allotted span of life +shrinking visibly, like the _peau de chagrin_. I must bestir myself, or +my last day will come before I have accomplished anything. + + + +When I jotted down the above not very original memorandum I had passed a +perfectly uneumoirous week among my friends and social acquaintances. +I had stood godfather to my sister Agatha's fifth child, taking upon +myself obligations which I shall never be able to perform; I had dined +amusingly at my sister Jane's; I had shot pheasants at Farfax +Glenn's place in Hampshire; and I had paid a long-promised charming +country-house visit to old Lady Blackadder. + +When I came back to town, however, I consulted my calendar with some +anxiety, and set out to clear my path. + +I have now practically withdrawn from political life. Letters have +passed; complimentary and sympathetic gentlemen have interviewed me +and tried to weaken my decision. The great Raggles has even called, +and dangled the seals of office before my eyes. I said they were very +pretty. He thought he had tempted me. + +“Hang on as long as you can, for the sake of the Party.” + +I spoke playfully of the Party (a man in my position, with one eye on +Time and the other on Eternity, develops an acute sense of values) and +Raggles held up horrified hands. To Raggles the Party is the Alpha and +Omega of things human and divine. It is the guiding principle of the +Cosmos. I could have spoken disrespectfully of the British Empire, of +which he has a confused notion; I could have dismissed the Trinity, on +which his ideas are vaguer, with an airy jest; in the expression of my +views concerning the Creator, whom he believes to be under the Party's +protection, I could have out-Pained Tom Paine, out-Taxiled Leo Taxil, +and he would not have winced. But to blaspheme against the Party was the +sin for which there was no redemption. + +“I always thought you a serious politician!” he gasped. + +“Good God!” I cried. “In my public utterances have I been as dull as +that? Ill-health or no, it is time for me to quit the stage.” + +He laughed politely, because he conjectured I was speaking +humourously--he is astute in some things--and begged me to explain. + +I replied that I did not regard mustard poultices as panaceas, the +_vox populi_ as the _Vox Dei_, or the policy of the other side as the +machinations of the Devil; that politics was all a game of guess-work +and muddle and compromise at the best; that, at the worst, as during +a General Election, it was as ignoble a pastime as the wit of man had +devised. To take it seriously would be the course of a fanatic, a man +devoid of the sense of proportion. Were such a man, I asked, fitted to +govern the country? + +He did not stop to argue, but went away leaving me the conviction that +he thanked his stars on the Government's providential escape from so +maniacal a minister. I hope I did not treat him with any discourtesy; +but, oh! it was good to speak the truth after all the dismal lies I have +been forced to tell at the bidding of Raggle's Party. Now that I am no +longer bound by the rules of the game, it is good to feel a free, honest +man. + +Never again shall I stretch forth my arms and thunder invectives against +well-meaning people with whom in my heart I secretly sympathise. +Never again shall I plead passionately for principles which a horrible +instinct tells me are fundamentally futile. Never again shall I attempt +to make mountains out of mole-hills or bricks without straw or sunbeams +out of cucumbers. + +I shall conduct no more inquiries into pauper lunacy, thank Heaven! And +as for the public engagements which Dale Kynnersley made for me during +my Thebaid existence on Murglebed-on-Sea, the deuce can take them all--I +am free. + +I only await the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds, for which quaint +post under the Crown I applied, to cease to be a Member of Parliament. +And yet, in spite of all my fine and superior talk, I am glad I am +giving up in the recess. I should not like to be out of my seat were the +House in session. + +I should hate to think of all the fascinating excitement over nothing +going on in the lobbies without me, while I am still hale and hearty. +When Parliament meets in February I shall either be comfortably dead or +so uncomfortably alive that I shall not care. + +_Ce que c'est que de nous!_ I wonder how far Simon de Gex and I are +deceiving each other? + + + +There is no deception about my old friend Latimer, who called on me a +day or two ago. He is on the Stock Exchange, and, muddle-headed creature +that he is, has been “bearing” the wrong things. They have gone up +sky-high. Settling-day is drawing near, and how to pay for the shares he +is bound to deliver he has not the faintest notion. + +He stamped up and down the room, called down curses on the prying fools +who came across the unexpected streak of copper in the failing mine, +drew heart-rending pictures of his wife and family singing hymns in the +street, and asked me for a drink of prussic acid. I rang the bell and +ordered Rogers to give him a brandy and soda. + +“Now,” said I, “talk sense. How much can you raise?” + +He went into figures and showed me that, although he stretched his +credit to the utmost, there were still ten thousand pounds to be +provided. + +“It's utter smash and ruin,” he groaned. “And all my accursed folly. I +thought I was going to make a fortune. But I'm done for now.” Latimer is +usually a pink, prosperous-looking man. Now he was white and flabby, +a piteous spectacle. “You are executor under my will,” he continued. +“Heaven knows I've nothing to leave. But you'll see things straight for +me, if anything happens? You will look after Lucy and the kids, won't +you?” + +I was on the point of undertaking to do so, in the event of the +continuance of his craving for prussic acid, when I reflected upon my +own approaching bow and farewell to the world where Lucy and the kids +would still be wandering. I am always being brought up against this +final fireproof curtain. Suddenly a thought came which caused me to +exult exceedingly. + +“Ten thousand pounds, my dear Latimer,” said I, “would save you from +being hammered on the Stock Exchange and from seeking a suicide's grave. +It would also enable you to maintain Lucy and the kids in your luxurious +house at Hampstead, and to take them as usual to Dieppe next summer. Am +I not right?” + +He begged me not to make a jest of his miseries. It was like asking +a starving beggar whether a dinner at the Carlton wouldn't set him up +again. + +“Would ten thousand set you up?” I persisted. + +“Yes. But I might as well try to raise ten million.” + +“Not so,” I cried, slapping him on the shoulder. “I myself will lend you +the money.” + +He leaped to his feet and stared at me wildly in the face. He could not +have been more electrified if he had seen me suddenly adorned with wings +and shining raiment. I experienced a thrill of eumoiriety more exquisite +than I had dreamed of imagining. + +“You?” + +“Why not?” + +“You don't understand. I can give you no security whatsoever.” + +“I don't want security and I don't want interest,” I exclaimed, feeling +more magnanimous than I had a right to be, seeing that the interest +would be of no use to me on the other side of the Styx. “Pay me back +when and how you like. Come round with me to my bankers and I'll settle +the matter at once.” + +He put out his hands; I thought he was about to fall at my feet; he +laughed in a silly way and, groping after brandy and soda, poured half +the contents of the brandy decanter on to the tray. I took him in a cab, +a stupefied man, to the bank, and when he left me at the door with my +draft in his pocket, there were tears in his eyes. He wrung my hand and +murmured something incoherent about Lucy. + +“For Heaven's sake, don't tell her anything about it,” I entreated. “I +love Lucy dearly, as you know; but I don't want to have her weeping on +my door-mat.” + +I walked back to my rooms with a springing step. So happy was I that I +should have liked to dance down Piccadilly. If the Faculty had not made +their pronouncement, I could have no more turned poor Latimer's earth +from hell to heaven than I could have changed St. Paul's Cathedral into +a bumblebee. The mere possibility of lending him the money would not +have occurred to me. + +A man of modest fortune does not go about playing Monte Cristo. He gives +away a few guineas in charity; but he keeps the bulk of his fortune to +himself. The death sentence, I vow, has compensations. It enables a man +to play Monte Cristo or any other avatar of Providence with impunity, +and to-day I have discovered it to be the most fascinating game in the +world. + +When Latimer recovers his equilibrium and regards the transaction in the +dry light of reason, he will diagnose a sure symptom of megalomania, and +will pity me in his heart for a poor devil. + + + +I have seen Eleanor Faversham, and she has released me from my +engagement with such grace, dignity, and sweet womanliness that I wonder +how I could have railed at her thousand virtues. + +“It's honourable of you to give me this opportunity of breaking it off, +Simon,” she said, “but I care enough for you to be willing to take my +chance of illness.” + +“You do care for me?” I asked. + +She raised astonished eyes. “If I didn't, do you suppose I should have +engaged myself to you? If I married you I should swear to cherish you in +sickness and in health. Why won't you let me?” + +I was in a difficulty. To say that I was in ill-health and about to +resign my seat in Parliament and a slave to doctor's orders was one +thing; it was another to tell her brutally that I had received my death +warrant. She would have taken it much more to heart than I do. + +The announcement would have been a shock. It would have kept the poor +girl awake of nights. She would have been for ever seeing the hand of +Death at my throat. Every time we met she would have noted on my face, +in my gait, infallible signs of my approaching end. I had not the right +to inflict such intolerable pain on one so near and dear to me. + +Besides, I am vain enough to want to walk forth somewhat gallantly into +eternity; and while I yet live I particularly desire that folks should +not regard me as half-dead. I defy you to treat a man who is only going +to live twenty weeks in the same pleasant fashion as you would a man who +has the run of life before him. + +There is always an instinctive shrinking from decay. I should think that +corpses must feel their position acutely. + +It was entirely for Eleanor's sake that I refrained from taking her into +my confidence. To her question I replied that I had not the right to +tie her for life to a helpless valetudinarian. “Besides,” said I, “as +my health grows worse my jokes will deteriorate, until I am reduced to +grinning through a horse-collar at the doctor. And you couldn't stand +that, could you?” + +She upbraided me gently for treating everything as a jest. + +“It isn't that you want to get rid of me, Simon?” she asked tearfully, +but with an attempt at a smile. + +I took both hands and looked into her eyes--they are brave, truthful +eyes--and through my heart shot a great pain. Till that moment I had not +realised what I was giving up. The pleasant paths of the world--I could +leave them behind with a shrug. Political ambition, power, I could +justly estimate their value and could let them pass into other hands +without regret. But here was the true, staunch woman, great of heart and +wise, a helper and a comrade, and, if I chose to throw off the jester +and become the lover in real earnest and sweep my hand across the +hidden chords, all that a woman can become towards the man she loves. I +realised this. + +I realised that if she did not love me passionately now it was only +because I, in my foolishness, had willed it otherwise. For the first +time I longed to have her as my own; for the first time I rebelled. +I looked at her hungeringly until her cheeks grew red and her eyelids +fluttered. I had a wild impulse to throw my arms around her, and kiss +her as I had never kissed her before and bid her forget all that I had +said that day. Her faltering eyes told me that they read my longing. I +was about to yield when the little devil of a pain inside made itself +sharply felt and my madness went from me. I fetched a thing half-way +between a sigh and a groan, and dropped her hands. + +“Need I answer your question?” I asked. + +She turned her head aside and whispered “No.” + +Presently she said, “I am glad I came back from Sicily. I shouldn't have +liked you to write this to me. I shouldn't have understood.” + +“Do you now?” + +“I think so.” She looked at me frankly. “Until just now I was never +quite certain whether you really cared for me.” + +“I never cared for you so much as I do now, when I have to lose you.” + +“And you must lose me?” + +“A man in my condition would be a scoundrel if he married a woman.” + +“Then it is very, very serious--your illness?” + +“Yes,” said I, “very serious. I must give you your freedom whether you +want it or not.” + +She passed one hand over the other on her knee, looking at the +engagement ring. Then she took it off and presented it to me, lying in +the palm of her right hand. + +“Do what you like with it,” she said very softly. + +I took the ring and slipped it on one of the right-hand fingers. + +“It would comfort me to think that you are wearing it,” said I. + +Then her mother came into the room and Eleanor went out. I am thankful +to say that Mrs. Faversham who is a woman only guided by sentiment when +it leads to a worldly advantage, applauded the step I had taken. As a +sprightly Member of Parliament, with an assured political and social +position, I had been a most desirable son-in-law. As an obscure invalid, +coughing and spitting from a bath-chair at Bournemouth (she took it for +granted that I was in the last stage of consumption), I did not take the +lady's fancy. + +“My dear Simon,” replied my lost mother-in-law, “you have behaved +irreproachably. Eleanor will feel it for some time no doubt; but she is +young and will soon get over it. I'll send her to the Drascombe-Prynnes +in Paris. And as for yourself, your terrible misfortune will be as much +as you can bear. You mustn't increase it by any worries on her behalf. +In that way I'll do my utmost to help you.” + +“You are kindness itself, Mrs. Faversham,” said I. + +I bowed over the delighted lady's hand and went away, deeply moved by +her charity and maternal devotion. + +But perhaps in her hardness lies truth. I have never touched Eleanor's +heart. No romance had preceded or accompanied our engagement. The +deepest, truest incident in it has been our parting. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +Dale's occupation, like Othello's, being gone, as far as I am concerned, +Lady Kynnersley has despatched him to Berlin, on her own business, +connected, I think, with the International Aid Society. He is to stay +there for a fortnight. + +How he proposes to bear the separation from the object of his flame I +have not inquired; but if forcible objurgations in the vulgar tongue +have any inner significance, I gather that Lady Kynnersley has not +employed an enthusiastic agent. + +Being thus free to pursue my eumoirous schemes without his intervention, +for you cannot talk to a lady for her soul's good when her adorer is +gaping at you, I have taken the opportunity to see something of Lola +Brandt. + +I find I have seen a good deal of her; and it seems not improbable that +I shall see considerably more. Deuce take the woman! + +On the first afternoon of Dale's absence I paid her my promised visit. +It was a dull day, and the room, lit chiefly by the firelight, +happily did not reveal its nerve-racking tastelessness. Lola Brandt, +supple-limbed and lazy-voiced, talked to me from the cushioned depths of +her chair. + +We lightly touched on Dale's trip to Berlin. She would miss him +terribly. It was so kind of me to come and cheer her lonely hour. +Politeness forbade my saying that I had come to do nothing of the sort. +To my vague expression of courtesy she responded by asking me with a +laugh how I liked Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos. + +I replied that I considered it urbane on his part to invite me to see +his cats perform. + +“If you were to hurt one of his cats he'd murder you,” she informed me. +“He always carries a long, sharp knife concealed somewhere about him on +purpose.” + +“What a fierce little gentleman,” I remarked. + +“He looks on me as one of his cats, too,” she said with a low laugh, +“and considers himself my protector. Once in Buda-Pesth he and I were +driving about. I was doing some shopping. As I was getting into the cab +a man insulted me, on account, I suppose, of my German name. Anastasius +sprang at him like a wild beast, and I had to drag him off bodily and +lift him back into the cab. I'm pretty strong, you know. It must have +been a funny sight.” She turned to me quickly. “Do you think it wrong of +me to laugh?” + +“Why shouldn't you laugh at the absurd?” + +“Because in devotion like that there seems to be something solemn +and frightening. If I told him to kill his cats, he would do it. If I +ordered him to commit Hari-Kari on the hearthrug, he would whip out his +knife and obey me. When you have a human soul at your mercy like that, +it's a kind of sacrilege to laugh at it. It makes you feel--oh, I can't +express myself. Look, it doesn't make tears come into your eyes exactly, +it makes them come into your heart.” + +We continued the subject, divagating as we went, and had a nice little +sentimental conversation. There are depths of human feeling I should +never have suspected in this lazy panther of a woman, and although she +openly avows having no more education than a tinker's dog, she can talk +with considerable force and vividness of expression. + +Indeed, when one comes to think of it, a tinker's dog has a fine +education if he be naturally a shrewd animal and takes advantage of his +opportunities; and a fine education, too, of its kind was that of +the vagabond Lola, who on her way from Dublin to Yokohama had more +profitably employed her time than Lady Kynnersley supposed. She had +seen much of the civilised places of the earth in her wanderings from +engagement to engagement, and had been an acute observer of men and +things. + +We exchanged travel pictures and reminiscences. I found myself floating +with her through moonlit Venice, while she chanted with startling +exactness the cry of the gondoliers. To my confusion be it spoken, I +forgot all about Dale Kynnersley and my mission. The lazy voice and +rich personality fascinated me. When I rose to go I found I had spent a +couple of hours in her company. She took me round the room and showed me +some of her treasures. + +“This is very old. I think it is fifteenth century,” she said, picking +up an Italian ivory. + +It was. I expressed my admiration. Then maliciously I pointed to a +horrible little Tyrolean chalet and said: + +“That, too, is very pretty.” + +“It isn't. And you know it.” + +She is a most disconcerting creature. I accepted the rebuke meekly. What +else could I do? + +“Why, then, do you have it here?” + +“It's a present from Anastasius,” she said. “Every time he comes to +see me he brings what he calls an _'offrande'_. All these things”--she +indicated, with a comprehensive sweep of the arm, the Union Jack +cushion, the little men mounting ladders inside bottles, the hen sitting +on her nest, and the other trumpery gimcracks--“all these things are +presents from Anastasius. It would hurt him not to see them here when he +calls.” + +“You might have a separate cabinet,” I suggested. + +“A chamber of horrors?” she laughed. “No. It gives him more pleasure to +see them as they are--and a poor little freak doesn't get much out of +life.” + +She sighed, and picking up “A Present from Margate” kind of mug, +fingered it very tenderly. + +I went away feeling angry. Was the woman bewitching me? And I felt +angrier still when I met Lady Kynnersley at dinner that evening. Luckily +I had only a few words with her. Had I done anything yet with regard to +Dale and the unmentionable woman? If I had told her that I had spent +a most agreeable afternoon with the enchantress, she would not have +enjoyed her evening. Like General Trochu of the Siege of Paris fame, I +said in my most mysterious manner, “I have my plan,” and sent her into +dinner comforted. + +But I had no plan. My next interview with Madame Brandt brought me no +further. We have established telephonic communications. Through the +medium of this diabolical engine of loquacity and indiscretion, I was +prevailed on to accompany her to a rehearsal of Anastasius's cats. + +Rogers, with a face as imperturbable as if he was announcing the visit +of an archbishop, informed me at the appointed hour that Madame Brandt's +brougham was at the door. I went down and found the brougham open, as +the day was fine, and Lola Brandt, smiling under a gigantic hat with an +amazing black feather, and looking as handsome as you please. + +We were blocked for a few minutes at the mouth of the courtyard, and +I had the pleasure of all Piccadilly that passed staring at us in +admiration. Lola Brandt liked it; but I didn't, especially when I +recognised one of the starers as the eldest Drascombe-Prynne boy whose +people in Paris are receiving Eleanor Faversham under their protection. +A nice reputation I shall be acquiring. My companion was in gay mood. +Now, as it is no part of dealing unto oneself a happy life and portion +to damp a fellow creature's spirits, I responded with commendable +gaiety. + +I own that the drive to Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos's cattery in +Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, was distinctly enjoyable. I forgot all +about the little pain inside and the Fury with the abhorred shears, and +talked a vast amount of nonsense which the lady was pleased to regard +as wit, for she laughed wholeheartedly, showing her strong white, even +teeth. But why was I going? + +Was it because she had requested me through the telephone to give +unimagined happiness to a poor little freak who would be as proud as +Punch to exhibit his cats to an English Member of Parliament? Was it +in order to further my designs--Machiavellian towards the lady, but +eumoirous towards Dale? Or was it simply for my own good pleasure? + +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos, resplendently raimented, with the +shiniest of silk hats and a flower in the buttonhole of his frock-coat, +received us at the door of a small house, the first-floor windows of +which announced the tenancy of a maker of gymnastic appliances; and +having kissed Madame Brandt's hand with awful solemnity and bowed deeply +to me, he preceded us down the passage, out into the yard, and into a +ramshackle studio at the end, where his cats had their being. + +There were fourteen of them, curled up in large cages standing against +the walls. The place was lit by a skylight and warmed by a stove. +The floor, like a stage, was fitted up with miniature acrobatic +paraphernalia and properties. There were little five-barred gates, and +trapezes, and tight-ropes, and spring-boards, and a trestle-table, all +the metal work gleaming like silver. A heavy, uncouth German lad, whom +the professor introduced as his pupil and assistant, Quast, was in +attendance. Mr. Papadopoulos polyglotically acknowledged the honour I +had conferred upon him. He is very like the late Emperor of the French; +but his forehead is bulgier. + +With a theatrical gesture and the remark that I should see, he opened +some cages and released half a dozen cats--a Persian, a white Angora, +and four commonplace tabbies, who all sprang on to the table with +military precision. Madame Brand began to caress them. I, wishing to +show interest in the troupe, prepared to do the same; but the dwarf +scurried up with a screech from the other end of the room. + +_“Ne touchez pas--ne touchez pas!”_ + +I refrained, somewhat wonderingly, from touching. Madame Brandt +explained. + +“He thinks you would spoil the magnetic influence. It is a superstition +of his.” + +“But you are touching.” + +“He believes I have his magnetism--whatever that may be,” she said, with +a smile. “Would you like to see an experiment? Anastasius!” + +“Carissima.” + +“Is that the untamed Persian you were telling me of?” she asked, +pointing to a cage from which a ferocious gigantic animal more like a +woolly tiger than a tom-cat looked out with expressionless yellow eyes. +“Will you let Mr. de Gex try to make friends with it?” + +“Your will is law, meine Konigin,” replied Professor Papadopoulos, +bowing low. “But Hephaestus is as fierce as the flames of hell.” + +“See what he'll do,” laughed Lola Brandt. + +I approached the cage with an ingratiating, “Puss, puss!” and a hideous +growl welcomed me. I ventured my hand towards the bars. The beast +bristled in demoniac wrath, spat with malignant venom, and shot out its +claws. If I had touched it my hand would have been torn to shreds. I +have never seen a more malevolent, fierce, spiteful, ill-conditioned +brute in my life. My feelings being somewhat hurt, and my nerves a bit +shaken, I retreated hastily. + +“Now look,” said Lola Brandt. + +With absolute fearlessness she went up to the cage, opened it, took +the unresisting thing out by the scruff of its neck, held it up like a +door-mat, and put it on her shoulder, where it forthwith began to purr +like any harmless necessary cat and rub its head against her cheek. She +put it on the floor; it arched its back and circling sideways rubbed +itself against her skirts. + +She sat down, and taking the brute by its forepaws made it stand on its +hind legs. She pulled it on to her lap and it curled round lazily. Then +she hoisted it on to her shoulder again, and, rising, crossed the room +and bowed to the level of the cage, when the beast leaped in purring +thunderously in high good humour. Mr. Papadopoulos sang out in +breathless delight: + +“If I am the King of Cats, you, Carissima, are the Queen. Nay, more, you +are the Goddess!” + +Lola Brandt laughed. I did not. It was uncanny. It seemed as if some +mysterious freemasonic affinity existed between her and the evil beast. +During her drive hither she had entered my own atmosphere. She had +been the handsome, unconventional woman of the world. Now she seemed as +remote from me as the witches in “Macbeth.” + +If I had seen her dashing Paris hat rise up into a point and her +umbrella turn into a broomstick, and herself into one of the buxom +carlines of “Tam O'Shanter,” I should not have been surprised. The feats +of the mild pussies which the dwarf began forthwith to exhibit provoked +in me but a polite counterfeit of enthusiasm. Lola Brandt had discounted +my interest. Even his performance with the ferocious Persian lacked the +diabolical certainty of Lola's handling. He locked all the other cats up +and enticed it out of the cage with a piece of fish. He guided it with +a small whip, as it jumped over gates and through blazing hoops, and he +stood tense and concentrated, like a lion-tamer. + +The act over, the cat turned and snarled and only jumped into its cage +after a smart flick of the whip. The dwarf did not touch it once with +his hands. I applauded, however, and complimented him. He laid his hand +on his heart and bent forward in humility. + +“Ah, monsieur, I am but a neophyte where Madame is an expert. I know the +superficial nature of cats. Now and then without vainglory I can say I +know their hearts; but Madame penetrates to and holds commune with their +souls. And a cat's soul, monsieur, is a wonderful thing. Once it was +divine--in ancient Egypt. Doubtless monsieur has heard of Pasht? Holy +men spent their lives in approaching the cat-soul. Madame was born to +the privilege. Pasht watches over her.” + +“Pasht,” I said politely in French, in reply to this clotted nonsense, +“was a great divinity. And for yourself, who knows but what you may have +been in a previous incarnation the keeper of the Sacred Cats in some +Egyptian temple.” + +“I was,” he said, with staggering earnestness. “At Memphis.” + +“One of these days,” I returned, with equal solemnity, “I hope for the +privilege of hearing some of your reminiscences. They would no doubt be +interesting.” + +On the way back Lola thanked me for pretending to take the little man +seriously, and not laughing at him. + +“If I hadn't,” said I, “he would have stuck his knife into me.” + +She shook her head. “You did it naturally. I was watching you. It is +because you are a generous-hearted gentleman.” + +Said I: “If you talk like that I'll get out and walk.” + +And, indeed, what right had she to characterise the moral condition +of my heart? I asked her. She laughed her low, lazy laugh, but made no +reply. Presently she said: + +“Why didn't you like my making friends with the cat?” + +“How do you know I didn't like it?” I asked. + +“I felt it.” + +“You mustn't feel things like that,” I remarked. “It isn't good for +you.” + +She insisted on my telling her. I explained as well as I could. She +touched the sleeve of my coat with her gloved hand. + +“I'm glad, because it shows you take an interest in me. And I wanted +to let you see that I could do something besides loll about in +a drawing-room and smoke cigarettes. It's all I can do. But it's +something.” She said it with the humility of the Jongleur de Notre Dame +in Anatole Frances's story. + +In Eaton Square, where I had a luncheon engagement, she dropped me, and +drove off smiling, evidently well pleased with herself. My hostess was +standing by the window when I was shown into the drawing-room. I noted +the faintest possible little malicious twinkle in her eye. + +During the afternoon I had a telephonic message from my doctor, who +asked me why I had neglected him for a fortnight and urged me to go to +Harley Street at once. To humour him I went the next morning. Hunnington +is a bluff, hearty fellow who feeds himself into pink floridity so as to +give confidence to his patients. In answer to his renewed inquiry as to +my neglect, I remarked that a man condemned to be hanged doesn't seek +interviews with the judge in order to learn how the rope is getting on. +I conveyed to him politely, although he is an old friend, that I desired +to forget his well-fed existence. In his chatty way he requested me not +to be an ass, and proceeded to put to me the usual silly questions. + +Remembering the result of my last visit, I made him happy by answering +them gloomily; whereupon he seized his opportunity and ordered me out +of England for the winter. I must go to a warm climate--Egypt, South +Africa, Madeira--I could take my choice. I flatly refused to obey. I had +my duties in London. He was so unsympathetic as to damn my duties. My +duty was to live as long as possible, and my wintering in London would +probably curtail my short life by two months. Then I turned on him +and explained the charitable disingenuousness of my replies to +his questions. He refused to believe me, and we parted with mutual +recriminations. I sent him next day, however, a brace of pheasants, a +present from Farfax Glenn. After all, he is one of God's creatures. + +The next time I called on Lola Brandt I went with the fixed +determination to make some progress in my mission. I vowed that I would +not be seduced by trumpery conversation about Yokohama or allow my mind +to be distracted by absurd adventures among cats. I would clothe myself +in the armour of eumoiriety, and, with the sword of duty in my hand, +would go forth to battle with the enchantress. All said and done, what +was she but a bold-faced, strapping woman without an idea in her head +save the enslavement of an impressionable boy several years her junior? +It was preposterous that I, Simon de Gex, who had beguiled and fooled an +electorate of thirty thousand hard-headed men into choosing me for their +representative in Parliament, should not be a match for Lola Brandt. +As for her complicated feminine personality, her intuitiveness, her +magnetism, her fascination, all the qualities in fact which my poetical +fancy had assigned to her, they had no existence in reality. She was +the most commonplace person I had ever encountered, and I had been but a +sentimental lunatic. + +In this truly admirable frame of mind I entered her drawing-room. She +threw down the penny novel she was reading, and with a little cry of joy +sprang forward to greet me. + +“I'm so glad you've come. I was getting the blind hump!” + +Did I not say she was commonplace? I hate this synonym for boredom. +It may be elegant in the mouth of a duchess and pathetic in that of an +oyster-wench, but it falls vulgarly from intermediate lips. + +“What has given it to you?” I asked. + +“My poor little ouistiti is dead. It is this abominable climate.” + +I murmured condolences. I could not exhibit unreasonable grief at the +demise of a sick monkey which I had never seen. + +“I'm also out of books,” she said, after having paid her tribute to the +memory of the departed. “I have been forced to ask the servants to lend +me something to read. Have you ever tried this sort of thing? You ought +to. It tells you what goes on in high society.” + +I was sure it didn't. Not a duchess in its pages talked about having a +blind hump. I said gravely: + +“I will ask you to lend it to me. Since Dale has been away I've had no +one to make out my library list.” + +“Do turn Adolphus out of that chair and sit down,” she said, sinking +into her accustomed seat. Adolphus was the Chow dog before mentioned, +an accomplished animal who could mount guard with the poker and stand on +his head, and had been pleased to favour me with his friendship. + +“I miss Dale greatly,” said I. + +“I suppose you do. You are very fond of him?” + +“Very,” said I. “By the by, how did you first come across Dale?” + +She threw me a swift glance and smiled. + +“Oh, in the most respectable way. I was dining at the Carlton with Sir +Joshua Oldfield, the famous surgeon, you know. He performed a silly +little operation on me last year, and since then we've been great +friends. Dale and some sort of baby boy were dining there, too, and +afterwards, in the lounge, Sir Joshua introduced them to me. Dale asked +me if he could call. I said 'Yes.' Perhaps I was wrong. Anyhow, _voila_! +Do you know Sir Joshua?” + +“I sat next to him once at a public dinner. He's a friend of the +Kynnersleys. A genial old soul.” + +“He's a dear!” said Lola. + +“Do you know many of Dale's friends?” I asked. + +“Hardly any,” she replied. “It's rather lonesome.” Then she broke into a +laugh. + +“I was so terrified at meeting you the first time. Dale can talk of no +one else. He makes a kind of god of you. I felt I was going to hate you +like the devil. I expected quite a different person.” + +The diplomatist listens to much and says little. + +“Indeed,” I remarked. + +She nodded. “I thought you would be a big beefy man with a red face, you +know. He gave me the idea somehow by calling you a 'splendid chap.' You +see, I couldn't think of a 'splendid chap' with a white face and a waxed +moustache and your way of talking.” + +“I am sorry,” said I, “not to come up to your idea of the heroic.” + +“But you do!” she cried, with one of her supple twists of the body. “It +was I that was stupid. And I don't hate you at all. You can see that I +don't. I didn't even hate you when you came as an enemy.” + +“Ah!” said I. “What made you think that? We agreed to argue it out, if +you remember.” + +She drew out of a case beside her one of her unspeakable cigarettes. “Do +you suppose,” she said, lighting it, and pausing to inhale the first +two or three puffs of smoke, “do you suppose that a woman who has lived +among wild beasts hasn't got instinct?” + +I drew my chair nearer to the fire. She was beginning to be uncanny +again. + +“I expected you were going to be horrified at the dreadful creature your +friend had taken up with. Oh, yes, I know in the eyes of your class +I'm a dreadful creature. I'm like a cat in many ways. I'm suspicious +of strangers, especially strangers of your class, and I sniff and sniff +until I feel it's all right. After the first few minutes I felt you were +all right. You're true and honourable, like Dale, aren't you?” + +Like a panther making a sudden spring, she sat bolt upright in her chair +as she launched this challenge at me. Now, it is disconcerting to a man +to have a woman leap at his throat and ask him whether he is true and +honourable, especially when his attitude towards her approaches the +Machiavellian. + +I could only murmur modestly that I hoped I could claim these +qualifications. + +“And you don't think me a dreadful woman?” + +“So far from it, Madame Brandt,” I replied, “that I think you a +remarkable one.” + +“I wonder if I am,” she said, sinking back among her cushions. “I should +like to be for Dale's sake. I suppose you know I care a great deal for +Dale?” + +“I have taken the liberty of guessing it,” said I. “And since you have +done me the honour of taking me so far into your confidence,” I added, +playing what I considered to be my master-card, “may I venture to ask +whether you have contemplated”--I paused--“marriage?” + +Her brow grew dark, as she looked involuntarily at her bare left hand. + +“I have got a husband already,” she replied. + +As I expected. Ladies like Lola Brandt always have husbands unfit for +publication; and as the latter seem to make it a point of honour never +to die, widowed Lolas are as rare as blackberries in spring. + +“Forgive my rudeness,” I said, “but you wear no wedding ring.” + +“I threw it into the sea.” + +“Ah!” said I. + +“Do you want to hear about him?” she asked suddenly. “If we are to be +friends, perhaps you had better know. Somehow I don't like talking to +Dale about it. Do you mind putting some coals on the fire?” + +I busied myself with the coal-scuttle, lit a cigarette, and settled down +to hear the story. If it had not been told in the twilight hour by a +woman with a caressing, enveloping voice like Lola Brandt's I should +have yawned myself out of the house. + +It was a dismal, ordinary story. Her husband was a gentleman, a Captain +Vauvenarde in the French Army. He had fallen in love with her when she +had first taken Marseilles captive with the prodigiosities of her +horse Sultan. His proposals of manifold unsanctified delights met +with unqualified rejection by the respectable and not too passionately +infatuated Lola. When he nerved himself to the supreme sacrifice of +offering marriage she accepted. + +She had dreams of social advancement, yearned to be one of the white +faces of the audience in the front rows. The civil ceremony having been +performed, he pleaded with her for a few weeks' secrecy on account of +his family. The weeks grew into months, during which, for the sake of +a livelihood, she fulfilled her professional engagements in many other +towns. At last, when she returned to Marseilles, it became apparent that +Captain Vauvenarde had no intention whatever of acknowledging her openly +as his wife. Hence many tears. Moreover, he had little beyond his pay +and his gambling debts, instead of the comfortable little fortune that +would have assured her social position. Now, officers in the French +Army who marry ladies with performing horses are not usually guided by +reason; and Captain Vauvenarde seems to have been the most unreasonable +being in the world. It was beneath the dignity of Captain Vauvenarde's +wife to make a horse do tricks in public, and it was beneath Captain +Vauvenarde's dignity to give her his name before the world. She must +neither be Lola Brandt nor Madame Vauvenarde. She must give up her +fairly lucrative profession and live in semi-detached obscurity up a +little back street on an allowance of twopence-halfpenny a week and be +happy and cheerful and devoted. Lola refused. Hence more tears. + +There were scenes of frantic jealousy, not on account of any human +being, but on account of the horse. If she loved him as much as she +loved that abominable quadruped whose artificial airs and graces made +him sick every time he looked at it, she would accede to his desire. +Besides, he had the husband's right--a powerful privilege in France. She +pointed out that he could only exercise it by declaring her to be his +wife. Relations were strained. They led separate lives. From Marseilles +she went to Genoa, whither he followed her. Eventually he went away in a +temper and never came back. She had not heard from him since, and where +he was at the present moment she had not the faintest idea. + +“So you went cheerfully on with your profession?” I remarked. + +“I returned to Marseilles, and there I lost my horse Sultan. Then my +father died and left me pretty well off, and I hadn't the heart to train +another animal. So here I am. Ah!” + +With one of her lithe movements she rose to her feet, and, flinging out +her arms in a wide gesture, began to walk about the room, stopping here +and there to turn on the light and draw the flaring chintz curtains. I +rose, too, so as to aid her. Suddenly as we met, by the window, she laid +both her hands on my shoulders and looked into my face earnestly and +imploringly, and her lips quivered. I wondered apprehensively what she +was going to do next. + +“For God's sake, be my friend and help me!” + +The cry, in her rich, low notes, seemed to come from the depths of the +woman's nature. It caused some absurd and unnecessary chord within me to +vibrate. + +For the first time I realised that her strong, handsome face could look +nobly and pathetically beautiful. Her eyes swam in an adorable moisture +and grew very human and appealing. In a second all my self-denying +ordinances were forgotten. The witch had me in her power again. + +“My dear Madame Brandt,” said I, “how can I do it?” + +“Don't take Dale from me. I've lived alone, alone, alone all these +years, and I couldn't bear it.” + +“Do you care for him so very much?” + +She withdrew her hands and moved slightly. “Who else in the wide world +have I to care for?” + +This was very pathetic, but I had the sense to remark that compromising +the boy's future was not the best way of showing her devotion. + +“Oh, how could I do that?” she asked. “I can't marry him. And if I do +what I've never done before for any man--become his mistress--who need +know? I could stay in the background.” + +“You seem to forget, dear lady,” said I, “that Captain Vauvenarde is +probably alive.” + +“But I tell you I've lost sight of him altogether.” + +“Are you quite so sure,” I asked, regaining my sanity by degrees, “that +Captain Vauvenarde has lost sight of you?” + +She turned quickly. “What do you mean?” + +“You have given him no chance as yet of recovering his freedom.” + +She passed her hand over her face, and sat down on the sofa. “Do you +mean--divorce?” + +“It's an ugly word, dear Madame Brandt,” said I, as gently as I could, +“but you and I are strong people and needn't fear uttering it. Don't +you think such a scandal would ruin Dale at the very beginning of his +career?” + +There was a short silence. I was glad to see she was feminine enough to +twist and tear her handkerchief. + +“What am I to do?” she asked at last. “I can't live this awful lonely +life much longer. Sometimes I get the creeps.” + +I might have given her the sound advice to find healthy occupation +in training crocodiles to sit up and beg; but an idea which advanced +thinkers might classify as more suburban was beginning to take shape in +my mind. + +“Has it occurred to you,” I said, “that now you have assumed the +qualifications imposed by Captain Vauvenarde for bearing his name?” + +“I don't understand.” + +“You no longer perform in public. He would have no possible grievance +against you.” + +“Are you suggesting that I should go back to my husband?” she gasped. + +“I am,” said I, feeling mighty diplomatic. + +She looked straight in front of her, with parted lips, fingering her +handkerchief and evidently pondering the entirely new suggestion. I +thought it best to let her ponder. As a general rule, people will do +anything in the world rather than think; so, when one sees a human +being wrapped in thought, one ought to regard wilful disturbance of the +process as sacrilege. I lit a cigarette and wandered about the room. + +Eventually I came to a standstill before the Venus of Milo. But while +I was admiring its calm, mysterious beauty, the development of a former +idea took the shape of an inspiration which made my heart sing. Fate had +put into my hands the chance of complete eumoiriety. + +If I could effect a reconciliation between Lola Brandt and her husband, +Dale would be cured almost automatically of his infatuation, and +I should be the Deputy Providence bringing happiness to six human +beings--Lola Brandt, Captain Vauvenarde, Lady Kynnersley, Maisie +Ellerton, Dale, and Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos, who could not fail to +be delighted at the happiness of his goddess. + +There also might burst joyously on the earth a brood of gleeful little +Vauvenardes and merry little Kynnersleys, who might regard Simon de Gex +as their mythical progenitor. It might add to the gaiety of regiments +and the edification of parliaments. Acts should be judged, thought +I, not according to their trivial essence, but by the light of their +far-reaching consequences. + +Lola Brandt broke the silence. She did not look at me. She said: + +“I can't help feeling that you're my friend.” + +“I am,” I cried, in the exultation of my promotion to the role of Deputy +Providence. “I am indeed. And a most devoted one.” + +“Will you let me think over what you've said for a day or two--and then +come for an answer?” + +“Willingly,” said I. + +“And you won't----?” + +“What?” + +“No. I know you won't.” + +“Tell Dale?” I said, guessing. “No, of course not.” + +She rose and put out both her hands to me in a very noble gesture. I +took them and kissed one of them. + +She looked at me with parted lips. + +“You are the best man I have ever met,” she said. + +At the moment of her saying it I believed it; such conviction is induced +by the utterances of this singular woman. But when I got outside the +drawing-room door my natural modesty revolted. I slapped my thigh +impatiently with what I thought were my gloves. They made so little +sound that I found there was only one. I had left the other inside. I +entered and found Lola Brandt in front of the fire holding my glove in +her hand. She started in some confusion. + +“Is this yours?” she asked. + +Now whose could it have been but mine? The ridiculous question worried +me, off and on, all the evening. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +The murder is out. A paragraph has appeared in the newspapers to the +effect that the marriage arranged between Mr. Simon de Gex and Miss +Eleanor Faversham will not take place. It has also become common +knowledge that I am resigning my seat in Parliament on account of +ill-health. That is the reason rightly assigned by my acquaintances for +the rupture of my engagement. I am being rapidly killed by the doleful +kindness of my friends. They are so dismally sympathetic. Everywhere I +go there are long faces and solemn hand-shakes. In order to cheer myself +I gave a little dinner-party at the club, and the function might have +been a depressed wake with my corpse in a coffin on the table. My +sisters, dear, kind souls, follow me with anxious eyes as if I were one +of their children sickening for chicken-pox. They upbraid me for leaving +them in ignorance, and in hushed voices inquire as to my symptoms. They +both came this morning to the Albany to see what they could do for me. +I don't see what they can do, save help Rogers put studs in my shirts. +They expressed such affectionate concern that at last I cried out: + +“My dear girls, if you don't smile, I'll sit upon the hearthrug and howl +like a dog.” + +Then they exchanged glances and broke into hectic gaiety, dear things, +under the impression that they were brightening me up. I am being +deluged with letters. I had no idea I was such a popular person. They +come from high placed and lowly, from constituents whom my base and +servile flattery have turned into friends, from Members of Parliament, +from warm-hearted dowagers and from little girls who have inveigled me +out to lunch for the purpose of confiding to me their love affairs. I +could set up as a general practitioner of medicine on the advice that is +given me. I am recommended cod-liver oil, lung tonic, electric massage, +abdominal belts, warm water, mud baths, Sandow's treatment, and every +patent medicament save rat poison. I am urged to go to health resorts +ranging geographically from the top of the Jungfrau to Central Africa. +All kinds of worthy persons have offered to nurse me. Old General Wynans +writes me a four-page letter to assure me that I have only to go to his +friend Dr. Eustace Adams, of Wimpole Street, to be cured like a shot. I +happen to know that Eustace Adams is an eminent gynecologist. + +And the worst of it all is that these effusions written in the milk of +human kindness have to be answered. Dale is not here. I have to sit down +at my desk and toil like a galley slave. I am being worn to a shadow. + +Lola Brandt, too, has heard the news, Dale in Berlin, and the London +newspapers being her informants. Tears stood in her eyes when I called +to learn her decision. Why had I not told her I was so ill? Why had I +let her worry me with her silly troubles? Why had I not consulted +her friend, Sir Joshua Oldfield? She filled up my chair with cushions +(which, like most men, I find stuffy and comfortless), and if I had +given her the slightest encouragement, would have stuck my feet in hot +mustard and water. Why had I come out on such a dreadful day? It was +indeed a detestable day of raw fog. She pulled the curtains close, and, +insisting upon my remaining among my cushions, piled the grate with coal +half-way up the chimney. Would I like some eucalyptus? + +“My dear Madame Brandt,” I cried, “my bronchial tubes and lungs are as +strong as a hippopotamus's.” + +I wish every one would not conclude that I was going off in a rapid +decline. + +Lola Brandt prowled about me in a wistful, mothering way, showing me a +fresh side of her nature. She is as domesticated as Penelope. + +“You're fond of cooking, aren't you?” I asked suddenly. + +She laughed. “I adore it. How do you know?” + +“I guessed,” said I. + +“I'm what the French call a _vraie bourgeoise_.” + +“I'm glad to hear it,” said I. + +“Are you? I thought your class hated the _bourgeoisie_.” + +“The _bourgeoisie_,” I said, “is the nation's granary of the virtues. +But for God's sake, don't tell any one that I said so!” + +“Why?” she asked. + +“If it found its way into print it would ruin my reputation for +epigram.” + +She drew a step or two towards me in her slow rhythmic way, and smiled. + +“When you say or do a beautiful thing you always try to bite off its +tail.” + +Then she turned and drew some needlework--plain sewing I believe they +call it--from beneath the Union Jack cushion and sat down. + +“I'll make a confession,” she said. “Until now I've stuffed away my work +when I heard you coming. I didn't think it genteel. What do you think?” + +I scanned the shapeless mass of linen or tulle or whatever it was on her +lap. + +“I don't know whether it's genteel,” I remarked, “but at present it +looks like nothing on God's earth.” + +My masculine ignorance of such mysteries made her laugh. She is readily +moved to mild mirth, which makes her an easy companion. Besides, little +jokes are made to be laughed at, and I like women who laugh at them. +There was a brief silence. I smoked and made Adolphus stand up on his +hind legs and balance sugar on his nose. His mistress sewed. Presently +she said, without looking up from her work: + +“I've made up my mind.” + +I rose from my cushioned seat, into which Adolphus, evidently thinking +me a fool, immediately snuggled himself, and I stood facing her with my +back to the fire. + +“Well?” said I. + +“I am ready to go back to my husband, if he can be found, and, of +course, if he will have me.” + +I commended her for a brave women. She smiled rather sadly and shook her +head. + +“Those are two gigantic 'ifs.'” + +“Giants before now have been slain by the valiant,” I replied. + +“How is Captain Vauvenarde to be found?” + +“An officer in the French Army is not like a lost sparrow in London. His +whereabouts could be obtained from the French War Office. What is his +regiment?” + +“The Chasseurs d'Afrique. Yes,” she added thoughtfully. “I see, it isn't +difficult to trace him. I make one condition, however. You can't refuse +me.” + +“What is that?” + +“Until things are fixed up everything must go on just as at present +between Dale and me. He is not to be told anything. If nothing comes +of it then I'll have him all to myself. I won't give him up and be left +alone. As long as I care for him, I swear to God, I won't!” she said, in +her low, rich voice--and I saw by her face that she was a woman of her +word. “Besides, he would come raving and imploring--and I'm not quite +a woman of stone. It isn't all jam to go back to my husband. Goodness +knows why I am thinking of it. It's for your sake. Do you know that?” + +I did not. I was puzzled. Why in the world should Lola Brandt, whom I +have only met three or four times, revolutionise the whole of her life +for my sake? + +“I should have thought it was for Dale's,” said I. + +“I suppose you would, being a man,” she replied. + +I retorted, with a smile: “Woman is the eternal conundrum to which the +wise man always leaves her herself to supply the answer. Doubtless one +of these days you'll do it. Meanwhile, I'll wait in patience.” + +She gave me one of her sidelong, flashing glances and sewed with more +vigour than appeared necessary. I admired the beautiful curves of her +neck and shoulders as she bent over her work. She seemed too strong to +wield such an insignificant weapon as a needle. + +“That's neither here nor there,” she said in reference to my last +remark. “I say, I don't look forward to going back to my husband--though +why I should say 'going back' I don't know, as he left me--not I him. +Anyhow, I'm ready to do it. If it can be managed, I'll cut myself adrift +suddenly from Dale. It will be more merciful to him. A man can bear a +sudden blow better than lingering pain. If it can't be managed, well, +Dale will know nothing at all about it, and both he and I will be saved +a mortal deal of worry and unhappiness.” + +“Suppose” said I, “it can't be managed? Do you propose to keep Dale +ignorant of the danger he is running in keeping up a liaison with a +married woman living apart from her husband?” + +She reflected. “If my husband says he'll see me damned first before +he'll come back to me, then I'll tell Dale everything, and you can say +what you like to him. He'll be able to judge for himself; but in the +meanwhile you'll let me have what happiness I can.” + +I accepted the compromise, and, dispossessing Adolphus, sat down again. +I certainly had made progress. Feeling in a benevolent mood, I set forth +the advantages she would reap by assuming her legal status; how at last +she would shake the dust of Bohemia from off her feet, and instead of +standing at the threshold like a disconsolate Peri, she would enter as a +right the Paradise of Philistia which she craved; how her life would be +one continual tea-party, and how, as her husband had doubtless by this +time obtained his promotion, she would be authorised to adopt high and +mighty airs in her relations with the wives of all the captains and +lieutenants in the regiment. She sighed and wondered whether she would +like it, after all. + +“Here in England I can say 'damn' as often as I choose. I don't say it +very often, but sometimes I feel I must say it or explode.” + +“There are its equivalents in French,” I suggested. + +She laughed outright. “Fancy my coming out with a _sacre nom de Dieu_ in +a French drawing-room!” + +“Fancy you shouting 'damn' in an English one.” + +“That's true,” she said. “I suppose drawing-rooms are the same all the +world over. I do try to talk like a lady--at least, what I imagine they +talk like, for I've never met one.” + +“You see one every time you look in the glass,” said I. + +Her olive face flushed. “You mustn't say such things to me if you don't +mean them. I like to think all you say to me is true.” + +“Why in the world,” I cried, “should you not be a lady? You have the +instincts of one. How many of my fair friends in Mayfair and Belgravia +would have made their drawing-rooms unspeakable just for the sake of not +hurting the feelings of Anastasius Papadopoulos?” + +She put aside her work and, leaning over the arm of the chair, her chin +in her hands, looked at me gratefully. + +“I'm so glad you've said that. Dale can't understand it. He wants me to +clear the trash away.” + +“Dale,” said I, “is young and impetuous. I am a battered old philosopher +with one foot in the grave.” + +Quick moisture gathered in her eyes. “You hurt me,” she said. “You'll +soon get well and strong again. You must!” + +“_Ce que femme veut, Dieu le veut_,” I laughed. + +“_Eh bien, je le veux_,” she said with an odd expression in her eyes +which burned golden. They fascinated me, held mine. For some seconds +neither of us moved. Just consider the picture. There among the cushions +of her chair she sprawled beneath the light of a shaded lamp on the +further side, and in front of the leaping flames, a great, powerful, +sinuous creature of sweeping curves, clad in a clinging brown dress, her +head crowned with superb bronze hair, two warm arms bare to the elbow, +at which the sleeve ended in coffee-coloured lace falling over the side +of the chair, and her leopard eyes fixed on me. About her still hung the +echo of her last words spoken in deep tones whose register belongs less +to human habitations than to the jungle. And from her emanated like +a captivating odour--but it was not an odour--a strange magnetic +influence. + +I have done my best to write her down in my mind a commonplace, vulgar, +good-natured mountebank. But I can do so no longer. + +There is something deep down in the soul of Lola Brandt which sets her +apart from the kindly race of womankind; whether it is the devil or +a touch of pre-Adamite splendour or an ancestral catamount, I make +no attempt to determine. At any rate, she is too grand a creature to +fritter her life away on a statistic-hunting and pheasant-shooting young +Briton like Dale Kynnersley. He would never begin to understand her. I +will save her from Dale for her own sake. + +All this, ladies and gentlemen, because her eyes fascinated me, and +caused me to hold my breath, and made my heart beat. + +And will Captain Vauvenarde understand her? Of course he won't. But then +he is her husband, and husbands are notoriously and _cum privilegio_ +dunder-headed. I make no pretensions to understand her, but as I am +neither her lover nor her husband it does not matter. She says nothing +diabolical or eerie or fantastic or feline or pre-Adamite or uncanny or +spiritual; and yet she _is_, in a queer, indescribable way, all these +things. + +“_Je le veux_,” she said, and we drank in each other's souls, or +gaped at each other like a pair of idiots just as you please. I had a +horrible, yet pleasurable consciousness that she had gripped hold of my +nerves of volition. She was willing me to live. I was a puppet in her +hands like the wild tom-cat. At that moment I declare I could have +purred and rubbed my head against her knee. I would have done anything +she bade me. If she had sent me to fetch the Cham of Tartary's cap or a +hair of the Prester John's beard, I would have telephoned forthwith to +Rogers to pack a suit-case and book a seat in the Orient express. + +What would have happened next Heaven alone knows--for we could not have +gone on gazing at each other until I backed myself out at the door by +way of leave-taking--had not Anticlimax arrived in the person of Mr. +Anastasius Papadopoulos in his eternal frock-coat. But his gloves were +black. + +As usual he fell on his knees and kissed his lady's hand. Then he rose +and greeted me with solemn affability. + +“_C'est un privilege de rencontrer den gnadigsten Herrn_,” said he. + +Confining myself to one language, I responded by informing him that +it was an honour always to meet so renowned a professor, and inquired +politely after the health of Hephaestus. + +“Ah, Signore!” he cried. “Do not ask me. It is a tragedy from which I +shall never recover.” + +He sat down on a footstool by the side of Madame Brandt and burst into +tears, which coursed down his cheeks and moustache and hung like drops +of dew from the point of his imperial. + +“Is he dead?” asked Madame. + +“I wish he were! No. It is only the iron self-restraint that I possess +which prevented me from slaying him on the spot. But poor Santa Bianca! +My gentle and accomplished Angora. He has killed her. I can scarcely +raise my head through grief.” + +Lola put her great arm round the little man's neck and patted him like a +child, while he sobbed as if his heart would break. + +When he recovered he gave us the details of the tragic end of Santa +Bianca, and wound up by calling down the most ingeniously complicated +and passionate curses on the head of the murderer. Lola Brandt strove to +pacify him. + +“We all have our sorrows, Anastasius. Did I not lose my beautiful horse +Sultan?” + +The professor sprang to his full height of four feet and dashed away his +tears with a noble gesture of his black-gloved hand. + +Base slave that he was to think of his own petty bereavement in the face +of her eternal affliction. He turned to me and bade me mark her serene +nobility. It was a model and an example for him to follow. He, too, +would be brave and present a smiling face to evil fortune. + +“Behold! I smile, carissima!” he cried dramatically. + +We beheld--and saw his features (smudged with tearstains and the dye +from the black gloves which he obviously wore out of respect for the +deceased Santa Bianca) contorted into a grimace of hideous imbecility. + +“Monsieur,” said he, assuming his natural expression which was one of +pensive melancholy, “let us change the conversation. You are a great +statesman. Will you kindly let me know your opinion on the foreign +policy of Germany?” + +Whereupon he sat down again upon his stool and regarded me with earnest +attention. + +“Germany,” said I, with the solemnity of a Sir Oracle in the +smoking-room of one of the political clubs, “has dreams of an empire +beyond her frontiers, and with a view to converting the dream into a +reality, is turning out battleships nineteen to the dozen.” + +The Professor nodded his head sagaciously, and looked up at Lola. + +“Very profound,” said he, “very profound. I shall remember it. I am +a Greek, Monsieur, and the Greeks, as you know, are a nation of +diplomatists.” + +“Ever since the days of Xenophon,” said I. + +“You're both too clever for me,” exclaimed our hostess. “Where did you +get your knowledge from, Anastasius?” + +The Professor, flattered, passed his hand over his bulgy forehead. + +“I was a great student in my youth,” said he. “Once I could tell you all +the kings of Rome and the date of the battle of Actium. But pressure of +weightier concerns has driven my erudition from me. Pardon me. I have +not yet asked after your health. You are looking sad and troubled. What +is the matter?” + +He sat bolt upright, fingering his imperial and regarding her with the +keen solicitude of a family physician. To my amazement, Lola Brandt told +him quite simply: + +“I am thinking of living with my husband again.” + +“Has the traitor been annoying you?” he asked with a touch of +fierceness. + +“Oh, no! It's my own idea. I'm tired of living alone. I don't even know +where he is.” + +“Do you want to know where he is?” + +“How can I communicate with him unless I do?” + +Anastasius Papadopoulos rose, struck an attitude, and thumped his +breast. + +“I will seek him for you at the ends of the earth, and will bring him to +prostrate himself at your feet.” + +“That's very kind of you, Anastasius,” said Lola gently; “but what will +become of your cats?” + +The dwarf raised his hand impressively. + +“The Almighty will have them in His keeping. I have also my pupil and +assistant, Quast.” + +Lola smiled indulgently from her cushions, showing her curious even +teeth. + +“You mustn't do anything so mad, Anastasius, I forbid you.” + +“Madame,” said he in a most stately manner, “when I devote myself, it is +to the death. I have the honour to salute you!”--he bowed over her +hand and kissed it. “Monsieur.” He bowed to me with the profundity of a +hidalgo, and trotted magnificently out of the room. + +It was all so sudden that it took my breath away. + +“Well I'm----” I didn't know what I was, so I stopped. Lola Brandt broke +into low laughter at my astonishment. + +“That's Anastasius's way,” she explained. + +“But the little man surely isn't going to leave his cats and start on a +wild-goose chase over Europe to find your husband?” + +“He thinks he is, but I shan't let him.” + +“I hope you won't,” said I. “And will you tell me why you made so +hot-headed a person your confidant?” + +I confess that I was wrathful. Here had I been using the wiles of a +Balkan chancery to bring the lady to my way of thinking, and here was +she, to my face, making a joke of it with this caricature of a Paladin. + +“My dearest friend,” she replied earnestly, “don't be angry with me. +I've given the poor little man something to think of besides the death +of his cat. It will do him good. And why shouldn't I tell him? He's a +dear old friend, and in his way was so good to me when I was unhappy. He +knows all about my married life. You may think he's half-witted; but he +isn't. In ordinary business dealings he's as shrewd as they make 'em. +The manager who beats Anastasius over a contract is yet to be born.” + +By some extraordinary process of the contortionist's art, she curled +herself out of her chair on to the hearthrug and knelt before me, her +hands clasped on my knee. + +“You're not angry with me, are you?” she asked in her rich contralto. + +I took both her hands, rose, and assisted her to rise. I was not going +to be mesmerised again. + +“Of course not,” I laughed. Indeed my wrath had fallen from me. + +Her bosom heaved with a sigh. “I'm so glad,” she said. Her breath fanned +my cheek. It was aromatic, intoxicating. Her lips are ripe and full. + +“You had better find your husband as soon as possible,” said I. + +“Do you think so?” she asked. + +“Yes, I do. And it strikes me I had better go and find him myself.” + +She started. “You?” + +“Yes,” I said. “The Chasseurs d'Afrique are probably in Africa, and the +doctors have ordered me to winter in a hot climate, and I shall go on +writing a million letters a day if I stay here, which will kill me off +in no time with brain fag and writer's cramp. Your husband will be what +the newspapers call an objective. Good-bye!” said I, “I'll bring him to +you dead or alive.” + +And without knowing it at the time, I made an exit as magnificent as +that of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +I do not know whether I ought to laugh or rail. Judged by the ordinary +canons that regulate the respectable life to which I have been +accustomed, I am little short of a lunatic. The question is: Does +the recognition of lunacy in oneself tend to amusement or anger? I +compromise with myself. I am angry at having been forced on an insane +adventure, but the prospect of its absurdity gives me a considerable +pleasure. + +Let me set it down once and for all. I resent Lola Brandt's existence. +When I am out of her company I can contemplate her calmly from my +vantage of social and intellectual superiority. I can pooh-pooh her +fascinations. I can crack jokes on her shortcomings. I can see perfectly +well that I am Simon de Gex, M.P. (I have not yet been appointed to +the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds), of Eton and Trinity College, +Cambridge, a barrister of the Inner Temple (though a brief would cause +me as much dismay as a command to conduct the orchestra at Covent +Garden), formerly of the Foreign Office, a man of the world, a +diner-out, a hardened jester at feminine wiles, a cynical student of +philosophy, a man of birth, and, I believe, breeding with a cultivated +taste in wine and food and furniture, one also who, but for a little +pain inside, would soon become a Member of His Majesty's Government, +and eventually drop the “Esquire” at the end of his name and stick “The +Right Honourable” in front of it--in fact, a most superior, wise and +important person; and I can also see perfectly well that Lola Brandt +is an uneducated, lowly bred, vagabond female, with a taste, as I have +remarked before, for wild beasts and tea-parties, with whom I have +as much in common as I have with the feathered lady on a coster's +donkey-cart or the Fat Woman at the Fair. I can see all this perfectly +well in the calm seclusion of my library. But when I am in her +presence my superiority, like Bob Acres's valour, oozes out through my +finger-tips; I become a besotted idiot; the sense and the sight and +the sound of her overpower me; I proclaim her rich and remarkable +personality; and I bask in her lazy smiles like any silly undergraduate +whose knowledge of women has hitherto been limited to his sisters and +the common little girl at the tobacconist's. + +I say I resent it. I resent the low notes in her voice. I resent the +cajolery of the supple twists of her body. I resent her putting her +hands on my shoulders, and, as the twopenny-halfpenny poets say, fanning +my cheek with her breath. If it had not been for that I should never +have promised to go in search of her impossible husband. At any rate, it +is easy to discover his whereabouts. A French bookseller has telegraphed +to Paris for the _Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise_, the French +Army List. It locates every officer in the French army, and as the +Chasseurs d'Afrique generally chase in Africa, it will tell me the +station in Algeria or Tunisia which Captain Vauvenarde adorns. I can +go straight to him as Madame Brandt's plenipotentiary, and if the +unreasonable and fire-eating warrior does not run me through the body +for impertinence before he has time to appreciate the delicacy of my +mission, I may be able to convince him that a well-to-do wife is worth +the respectable consideration of a hard-up captain of Chasseurs. I say +I may be able to convince him; but I shrink from the impudence of the +encounter. I am to accost a total stranger in a foreign army and tell +him to return to his wife. This is the pretty little mission I have +undertaken. It sounded glorious and eumoirous and quixotic and deucedly +funny, during the noble moment of inspiration, when Lola's golden eyes +were upon me; but now--well, I shall have to persuade myself that it is +funny, if I am to carry it out. It is very much like wagering that one +will tweak by the nose the first gentleman in gaiters and shovel-hat +one meets in Piccadilly. This by some is considered the quintessence of +comedy. I foresee a revision of my sense of humour. + +This afternoon I met Lady Kynnersley again--at the Ellertons'. I was +talking to Maisie, who has grown no happier, when I saw her sailing +across to me with questions hoisted in her eyes. Being particularly +desirous not to report progress periodically to Lady Kynnersley, I made +a desperate move. I went forward and greeted her. + +“Lady Kynnersley,” said I, “somebody was telling me that you are in +urgent need of funds for something. With my usual wooden-headedness I +have forgotten what it is--but I know it is a deserving organisation.” + +The philanthropist, as I hoped, ousted the mother. She exclaimed at +once: + +“It must have been the Cabmen and Omnibus Drivers' Rheumatic Hospital.” + +“That was it!” said I, hearing of the institution for the first time. + +“They are martyrs to rheumatic gout, and of course have no means of +obtaining proper treatment; so we have secured a site at Harrogate and +are building a comfortable place, half hospital, half hotel, where they +can be put up for a shilling a day and have all the benefits of the +waters just as if they were staying at the Hotel Majestic. Do you want +to become a subscriber?” + +“I am eager to,” said I. + +“Then come over here and I'll tell you all about it.” + +I sat with her in a corner of the room and listened to her fairy-tale. +She wrung my heart to such a pitch of sympathy that I rose and grasped +her by the hand. + +“It is indeed a noble project,” I cried. “I love the London cabby as my +brother, and I'll post you a cheque for a thousand pounds this evening. +Good-bye!” + +I left her in a state of joyous stupefaction and made my escape. If it +had not fallen in with my general scheme of good works I should regard +it as an expensive method of avoiding unpleasant questions. + +Another philanthropist, by the way, of quite a different type from Lady +Kynnersley, who has lately benefited by my eleemosynary mania is Rex +Campion. I have known him since our University days and have maintained +a sincere though desultory friendship with him ever since. He is also a +friend of Eleanor Faversham, whom he now and then inveigles into weird +doings in the impossible slums of South Lambeth. He has tried on many +occasions to lure me into his web, but hitherto I have resisted. +Being the possessor of a large fortune, he has been able to gratify a +devouring passion for philanthropy, and has squandered most of his money +on an institution--a kind of club, school, labour-bureau, dispensary, +soup-kitchen, all rolled into one--in Lambeth; and there he +lives himself, perfectly happy among a hungry, grubby, scarecrow, +tatterdemalion crowd. At a loss for a defining name, he has called it +“Barbara's Building,” after his mother. His conception of the cosmos +is that sun, moon and stars revolve round Barbara's Building. How he +learned that I was, so to speak, standing at street corners and flinging +money into the laps of the poor and needy, I know not. But he came to +see me a day or two ago, full of Barbara's Building, and departed in +high feather with a cheque for a thousand pounds in his pocket. + +I may remark here on the peculiar difficulty there is in playing Monte +Cristo with anything like picturesque grace. Any dull dog that owns +a pen and a banking-account can write out cheques for charitable +institutions. But to accomplish anything personal, imaginative, +adventurous, anything with a touch of distinction, is a less easy +matter. You wake up in the morning with the altruistic yearnings of a +St. Francois de Sales, and yet somehow you go to bed in the evening with +the craving unsatisfied. You have really had so few opportunities; and +when an occasion does arise it is hedged around with such difficulties +as to baffle all but the most persistent. Have you ever tried to give a +beggar a five-pound note? I did this morning. + +She was a miserable, shivering, starving woman of fifty selling matches +in Sackville Street. She held out a shrivelled hand to me, and eyes that +once had been beautiful pleaded hungrily for alms. + +“Here,” said I to myself, “is an opportunity of bringing unimagined +gladness for a month or two into this forlorn creature's life.” + +I pressed a five-pound note into her hand and passed on. She ran after +me, terror on her face. + +“I daren't take it, sir; they would say I had stolen it, and I should be +locked up. No one would believe a gentleman had given it to me.” + +She trembled, overwhelmed by the colossal fortune that might, and yet +might not, be hers. I sympathised, but not having the change in gold, I +could do no more than listen to an incoherent tale of misery, which did +not aid the solution of the problem. It was manifestly impossible to +take back the note; and yet if she retained it she would be subjected +to scandalous indignities. What was to be done? I turned my eyes +towards Piccadilly and beheld a policeman. A page wearing the name of a +milliner's shop on his cap whisked past me. I stopped him and slipped a +shilling into his hand. + +“Will you ask that policeman to come to me?” + +The boy tore down the street and told the policeman and followed him up +to me, eager for amusement. + +“What has the woman been doing, sir?” asked the policeman. + +“Nothing,” said I. “I have given her a five-pound note.” + +“What for, sir?” he asked. + +“To further my pursuit of the eumoirous,” said I, whereat he gaped +stolidly; “but, be that as it may, I have given it her as a free gift, +and she is afraid to present it anywhere lest she should be charged with +theft. Will you kindly accompany her to a shop, where she can change it, +and vouch for her honesty?” + +The policeman, who seemed to form the lowest opinion of my intellect, +said he didn't know a shop on his beat where they could change it. The +boy whistled. The woman held the box of matches in one hand, and in the +other the note, fluttering in the breeze. Idlers paused and looked on. +The policeman grew authoritative and bade them pass along. They crowded +all the more. My position was becoming embarrassing. At last the boy, +remembering the badge of honour on his cap, undertook to change the note +at the hatter's at the corner of the street. So, having given the note +to the boy and bidden the policeman follow him to see fair play, and +encouraged the woman to follow the policeman, I resumed my walk down +Sackville Street. + +But what a pother about a simple act of charity! In order to repeat it +habitually I shall have to rely on the fortuitous attendance of a boy +and a policeman, or have a policeman and a boy permanently attached to +my person, which would be as agreeable as the continuous escort of a +jackdaw and a yak. + + + +Poor Latimer is having a dreadful time. Apparently my ten thousand +pounds have vanished like a snowflake on the river of liabilities. How +he is to repay me he does not know. He wishes he had not yielded to +temptation and had allowed himself to be honestly hammered. Then +he could have taken his family to sing in the streets with a quiet +conscience. + +“My dear fellow,” said I through the telephone this morning. “What are +ten thousand pounds to me?” + +I heard him gasp at the other end. + +“But you're not a millionaire!” + +“I am!” I cried triumphantly. And now I come to think of it, I spoke +truly. If a man reckons his capital as half a year's income, doubles it, +and works out the capital that such a yearly income represents, he is +the possessor of a mint of money. + +“I am,” I cried; “and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll settle five +thousand on Lucy and the children, so that they needn't accompany you +in your singing excursions. I shouldn't like them to catch cold, poor +dears, and ruin their voices.” + +In tones more than telephonically agonised he bade me not make a jest of +his misery. I nearly threw the receiver at the blockhead. + +“I'm not jesting,” I bawled; “I'm deadly serious. I knew Lucy before you +did, and I kissed her and she kissed me years before she knew of your +high existence; and if she had been a sensible woman she would have +married me instead of you--what? The first time you've heard of it? Of +course it is--and be decently thankful that you hear it now.” + +It is pleasant sometimes to tell the husbands of girls you have loved +exactly what you think of them; and I had loved Lucy Latimer. She came, +an English rose, to console me for the loss of my French _fleur-de-lis_, +Clothilde. Or was it the other way about? One does get so mixed in these +things. At any rate, she did not marry me, her first love, but jilted me +most abominably for Latimer. So I shall heap five thousand pounds on her +head. + +I have been unfortunate in my love affairs. I wonder why? Which reminds +me that I made the identical remark to Lucy Latimer a month or two ago. +(She is a plump, kind, motherly, unromantic little person now.) She had +the audacity to reply that I had never had any. + +“_You_, Lucy Crooks, dare say such a thing!” I exclaimed indignantly. + +She smiled. “Are there many more qualified than I to give the opinion?” + +I remember that I rose and looked her sternly in the face. + +“Lucy Crooks or Lucy Latimer,” said I, “you are nothing more or less +than a common hussy.” + +Whereupon she laughed as if I had paid her a high compliment. + +I maintain that I have been unfortunate in my love affairs. First, there +was an angel-faced widow, a contemporary of my mother's, whom I wooed in +Greek verses--and let me tell the young lover that it is much easier +to write your own doggerel and convert it into Greek than to put “To +Althea” into decent Anacreontics. I also took her to the Eton and Harrow +match, and talked to her of women's hats and the things she loved, and +neglected the cricket. But she would have none of me. In the flood tide +of my passion she married a scorbutic archdeacon of the name of Jugg. +Then there was a lady whose name for the life of me I can't remember. It +was something ending in “-ine.” We quarrelled because we held divergent +views on Mr. Wilson Barrett. Then there was Clothilde, whose tragical +story I have already unfolded; Lucy Crooks, who threw me over for this +dear, amiable, wooden-headed stockjobbing Latimer; X, Y and Z--but here, +let me remark, I was the hunted--mammas spread nets for me which by the +grace of heaven and the ungraciousness of the damsels I escaped; and, +lastly, my incomparable Eleanor Faversham. Now, I thought, am I safe +in harbour? If ever a match could have been labelled “Pure heaven-made +goods, warranted not to shrink”--that was one. But for this rupture +there is an all-accounting reason. For the others there was none. I vow +I went on falling in love until I grew absolutely sick and tired of the +condition. You see, the vocabulary of the pastime is so confoundedly +limited. One has to say to B what one has said to A; to C exactly +what one has said to A and B; and when it comes to repeating to F +the formularies one has uttered to A, B, C, D and E one grows almost +hysterical with the boredom of it. That was the delightful charm of +Eleanor Faversham; she demanded no formularies or re-enactment of +raptures. + +The _Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise_ has arrived. It is a volume +of nearly eighteen hundred pages, and being uncut both at top and bottom +and at the side it is peculiarly serviceable as a work of reference. +I attacked it bravely, however, hacking my way into it, paperknife +in hand. But to my dismay, the more I hacked the less could I find +of Captain Vauvenarde. I sought him in the Alphabetical Repertory of +Colonial Troops, in the list of officers _hors cadre_, in the lists +of seniority, in the list of his regiment, wherever he was likely or +unlikely to be. There is no person in the French army by the name of +Vauvenarde. + +I went straight to Lola Brandt with the hideous volume and the unwelcome +news. Together we searched the pages. + +“He _must_ be here,” she said, with feminine disregard of fact. + +“Are you quite certain you have got the name right?” I asked. + +“Why, it is my own name!” + +“So it is,” said I; “I was forgetting. But how do you know he was in the +army at all?” + +He might have been an adventurer, a Captain of Kopenick of the day, who +had poured a gallant but mendacious tale into her ears. + +“I hardly ever saw him out of uniform. He was quartered at Marseilles on +special duty. I knew some of his brother officers.” + +“Then,” said I, “there are only two alternatives. Either he has left the +army or he is----” + +“Dead?” she whispered. + +“Let us hope,” said I, “that he has left the army.” + +“You must find out, Mr. de Gex,” she said in a low voice. “I took it for +granted that my husband was alive. It's horrible to think that he may be +dead. It alters everything, somehow. Until I know, I shall be in a state +of awful suspense. You'll make inquiries at once, won't you?” + +“Did you love your husband, Madame Brandt?” I asked. + +She looked at the fire for some time without replying. She stood with +one foot on the fender. + +“I thought I did when I married him,” she said at last. “I thought I did +when he left me.” + +“And now?” + +She turned her golden eyes full on me. It is a disconcerting trick of +hers at any time, because her eyes are at once wistful and compelling; +but on this occasion it was startling. They held mine for some seconds, +and I caught in them a glimpse of the hieroglyphic of the woman's soul. +Then she turned her head slowly and looked again into the fire. + +“Now?” she echoed. “Many things have happened between then and now. If +he is alive and I go to him, I'll try to think again that I love him. It +will be the only way. It will save me from playing hell with my life.” + +“I am glad you see your relations to Dale in that light,” said I. + +“I wasn't thinking of Dale,” she said calmly. + +“Of what, then, if I may ask without impertinence?” + +She broke into a laugh which ended in a sigh, and then swung her +splendid frame away from the fireplace and walked backwards and +forwards, her figure swaying and her arms flung about in unrestrained +gestures. + +“You are quite right,” she said, with an odd note of hardness in her +voice. “You're quite right in what you said the other day--that it was +high time I went back to my husband. I pray God he is not dead. I have +a feeling that he isn't. He can't be. I count on you to find him and ask +him to meet me. It would be better than writing. I don't know what to +say when I have a pen in my hand. You must find him and speak to him and +send me a wire and I'll come straight away to any part of the earth. Or +would you like me to come with you and help you find him? But no; that's +idiotic. Forget that I have said it. I'm a fool. But he must be found. +He must, he must!” + +She paused in her swinging about the room for which I was sorry, as her +panther-in-a-cage movements were exceedingly beautiful, and she gazed +at me with a tragic air, wringing her hands. I was puzzled to find an +adequate reason for this sudden emotional outburst. Hitherto she had +accepted the prospect of a resumption of married life with a fatalistic +calm. Now when the man is either dead or has vanished into space, +she pins all her hopes of happiness on finding him. And why had her +salvation from destruction nothing to do with Dale? There is obviously +another range of emotions at work beneath it all; but what their nature +is baffles me. Although I contemplate with equanimity my little +corner in the Garden of Prosperpine, and with indifference this common +lodging-house of earth, and although I view mundane affairs with the +same fine, calm, philosophic, satirical eye as if I were already a +disembodied spirit, yet I do not like to be baffled. It makes me angry. +But during this interview with Lola Brandt I had not time to be angry. +I am angry now. In fact I am in a condition bordering on that of a mad +dog. If Rogers came and disturbed me now, as I am writing, I would bite +him. But I will set calmly down the story of this appalling afternoon. + +Lola stood before me wringing her hands. + +“What are you going to do?” + +“I can get an introduction to the _Chef de bureau_ of the information +department of the _Ministere de la Guerre_ in Paris,” I replied after +a moment's reflection. “He will be able to tell me whether Captain +Vauvenarde is alive or dead.” + +“He is alive. He must be.” + +“Very well. But I doubt whether Captain Vauvenarde keeps the office +informed of his movements.” + +“But you'll go in search of him, won't you?” + +“The earth is rather a large place,” I objected. “He may be in Dieppe, +or he may be on top of Mount Popocatapetl.” + +“I'm sure you'll find him,” she said encouragingly. + +“You'll own,” said I, “that there's something humourous in the idea +of my wandering all over the surface of the planet in search of a +lost captain of Chasseurs. It is true that we might employ a private +detective.” + +“Yes!” she cried eagerly. “Why not? Then you could stay here--and I +could go on seeing you till the news came. Let us do that.” + +The swiftness of her change of mood surprised me. + +“What is the particular object of your going on seeing me?” I asked, +with a smile. + +She turned away and shrugged her shoulders and took up her pensive +attitude by the fire. + +“I have no other friend,” she said. + +“There's Dale.” + +“He's not the same.” + +“There's Sir Joshua Oldfield.” + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +I lit a cigarette and sat down. There was a long silence. In some +unaccountable way she had me under her spell again. I felt a perfectly +insane dismay at the prospect of ending this queer intimacy, and I +viewed her intrigue with Dale with profound distaste. Lola had become a +habit. The chair I was sitting in was _my_ chair. Adolphus was _my_ dog. +I hated the idea of Dale making him stand up and do sentry with the fire +shovel, while Lola sprawled gracefully on the hearthrug. On the other +hand the thought of remaining in London and sharing with my young friend +the privilege of her society was intolerable. + +I smoked, and, watching her bosom rise and fall as she leaned forward +with one arm on the mantelpiece, argued it out with myself, and came to +the paradoxical conclusion that I could pack her off without a pang to +Kamtchatka and the embraces of her unknown husband, but could not hand +her over to Dale without feelings of the deepest repugnance. A pretty +position to find myself in. I threw away my cigarette impatiently. + +Presently she said, not stirring from her pose: + +“I shall miss you terribly if you go. A man like you doesn't come +into the life of a common woman like me without”--she hesitated for a +word--“without making some impression. I can't bear to lose you.” + +“I shall be very sorry to give up our pleasant comradeship,” said I, +“but even if I stay and send the private inquiry agent instead of going +myself, I shan't be able to go on seeing you in this way.” + +“Why not?” + +“It would be scarcely dignified.” + +“On account of Dale?” + +“Precisely.” + +There was another pause, during which I lit another cigarette. When I +looked up I saw great tears rolling down her cheeks. A weeping woman +always makes me nervous. You never know what she is going to do next. +Safety lies in checking the tears--in administering a tonic. Still, her +wish to retain me was very touching. I rose and stood before her by the +mantelpiece. + +“You can't have your pudding and eat it too,” said I. + +“What do you mean?” + +“You can't have Captain Vauvenarde for your husband, Dale for your +_cavaliere servente_, and myself for your guide, philosopher and friend +all at the same time.” + +“Which would you advise me to give up?” + +“That's obvious. Give up Dale.” + +She uttered a sound midway between a sob and a laugh, and said, as it +seemed, ironically: + +“Would you take his place?” + +Somewhat ironically, too, I replied, “A crock, my dear lady, with one +foot in the grave has no business to put the other into the _Pays du +Tendre_.” + +But all the same I had an absurd desire to take her at her word, not +for the sake of constituting myself her _amant en titre_, but so as +to dispossess the poor boy who was clamouring wildly for her among his +mother's snuffy colleagues in Berlin. + +“That's another reason why I shrink from your going in search of my +husband,” she said, dabbing her eyes. “Your ill-health.” + +“I shall have to go abroad out of this dreadful climate in any case. +Doctor's orders. And I might just as well travel about with an object in +view as idle in Monte Carlo or Egypt.” + +“But you might die!” she cried; and her tone touched my heart. + +“I've got to,” I said, as gently as I could; and the moment the words +passed my lips I regretted them. + +She turned a terrified look on me and seized me by the arms. + +“Is it as bad as that? Why haven't you told me?” + +I lifted my arms to her shoulders and shook my head and smiled into her +eyes. They seemed true, honest eyes, with a world of pain behind them. +If I had not regarded myself as the gentleman in the Greek Tragedy +walking straight to my certain doom, and therefore holding myself aloof +from such vain things, I should have yielded to the temptation and +kissed her there and then. And then goodness knows what would have +happened. + +As it was it was bad enough. For, as we stood holding on to each other's +shoulders in a ridiculous and compromising attitude, the door opened +and Dale Kynnersley burst, unannounced, into the room. He paused on the +threshold and gaped at us, open-mouthed. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +We sprang apart, for all the world like a guilty pair surprised. Luckily +the room was in its normal dim state of illumination, so that to one +suddenly entering, the expression on our faces was not clearly visible; +on the other hand, the subdued light gave a romantic setting to the +abominable situation. + +Lola saved it, however. She rushed to Dale. + +“Do you know what Mr. de Gex was just telling me? His illness--it is +worse than any one thought. It's incurable. He can't live long; he must +die soon. It's dreadful--dreadful! Did you know it?” + +Dale looked from her to me, and after a slight pause, came forward. + +“Is this true, Simon?” + +A plague on the woman for catching me in the trap! Before Dale came in +I was on the point of putting an airy construction on my indiscreet +speech. I had no desire to discuss my longevity with any one. I want +to keep my miserable secret to myself. It was exasperating to have +to entrust it even to Dale. And yet, if I repudiated her implied +explanation of our apparent embrace it would have put her hopelessly in +the wrong. I had to support her. + +“It's what the doctors say,” I replied, “but whether it's true or not is +another matter.” + +Again he looked queerly from me to Lola and from Lola back to me. His +first impression of our attitude had been a shock from which he found it +difficult to recover. I smiled, and, although perfectly innocent, felt a +villain. + +“Madame Brandt is good enough to be soft-hearted and to take a tragic +view of a most commonplace contingency.” + +“But it isn't commonplace. By God, it's horrible!” cried the boy, the +arrested love for me suddenly gushing into his heart. “I had no idea of +it. In Heaven's name, Simon, why didn't you tell me? My dear old Simon.” + +Tears rushed into his eyes and he gripped my hand until I winced. I put +my other hand on his shoulder and laughed with a contorted visage. + +“My good Dale, the moribund are fragile.” + +“Oh, Lord, man, how can you make a jest of it?” + +“Would you have me drive about in a hearse, instead of a cab, by way of +preparation?” + +“But what have the doctors told you?” asked Lola. + +“My two dear people!” I cried, “for goodness' sake don't fall over me +in this way. I'm not going to die to-morrow unless my cook poisons me or +I'm struck by lightning. I'm going to live for a deuce of a time yet. +A couple of weeks at least. And you'll very much oblige me by not +whispering a word abroad about what you've heard this afternoon. It +would cause me infinite annoyance. And meanwhile I suggest to you, +Dale, as the lawyers say, that you have been impolite enough not to say +how-do-you-do to your hostess.” + +He turned to her rather sheepishly, and apologised. My news had bowled +him over, he declared. He shook hands with her, laughed and walked +Adolphus about on his hind legs. + +“But where have you dropped from?” she asked. + +“Berlin. I came straight through. Didn't you get my wire?” + +“No.” + +“I sent one.” + +“I never got it.” + +He swung his arms about in a fine rage. + +“If ever I get hold of that son of Satan I'll murder him. He was covered +up to his beastly eyebrows in silver lace and swords and whistles and +medals and things. He walked up and down the railway station as if he +owned the German navy and ran trains as a genteel hobby. I gave him ten +marks to send the telegram. The miserable beast has sneaked the lot. +I'll get at the railway company through the Embassy and have the brute +sacked and put in prison. Did you ever hear of such a skunk?” + +“He must have thought you a very simple and charming young Englishman,” + said I. + +“You've done the same thing yourself!” he retorted indignantly. + +“Pardon me,” said I. “If I do send a telegram in that loose way, I +choose a humble and honest-looking porter and give him the exact fee for +the telegram and a winning smile.” + +“Rot!” said Dale, and turning to Lola--“He has demoralised the whole +railway system of Europe with his tips. I've seen him give a franc to +the black greasy devil that bangs at the carriage wheels with a bit of +iron. He would give anybody anything.” + +He had recovered his boyish pride in my ridiculous idiosyncracies, and +was in process of illustrating again to Lola what a “splendid chap” + I was. Poor lad! If he only knew what a treacherous, traitorous, +Machiavelli of a hero he had got. For the moment I suffered from a nasty +crick in the conscience. + +“Wouldn't he, Adolphus, you celestial old blackguard?” he laughed. Then +suddenly: “My hat! You two are fond of darkness! It gives me the creeps. +Do you mind, Lola, if I turn on the light?” + +He marched in his young way across to the switches and set the room +in the blaze he loved. My crick of the conscience was followed by an +impulse of resentment. He took it for granted that his will was law in +the house. He swaggered around the room with a proprietary air. He threw +in the casual “Lola” as if he owned her. Dale is the most delightful +specimen of the modern youth of my acquaintance. But even Dale, with +all his frank charm of manner, has the modern youth's offhand way with +women. I often wonder how women abide it. But they do, more shame to +them, and suffer more than they realise by their indulgence. When next I +meet Maisie Ellerton I will read her a wholesome lecture, for her soul's +good, on the proper treatment a self-respecting female should apply to +the modern young man. + +Dale filled the room with his clear young laugh, and turned on every +light in the place. Lola and I exchanged glances--she had adopted her +usual lazy pantherine attitude in the armchair--and her glance was not +that of a happy woman to whom a longed-for lover had unexpectedly come. +Its real significance I could not divine, but it was more wistful than +merely that of a fellow-conspirator. + +“By George!” cried Dale, pulling up a chair by Lola's side, and +stretching out his long, well-trousered legs in front of the fire. +“It's good to come back to civilisation and a Christian language and a +fireside--and other things,” he added, squeezing Lola's hand. “If only +it had not been for this horrible news about you, dear old man----” + +“Oh, do forget it and give me a little peace!” I cried. “Why have you +come back all of a sudden?” + +“The Wymington people wired for me. It seems the committee are divided +between me and Sir Gerald Macnaughton.” + +“He has strong claims,” said I. “He has been Mayor of the place and got +knighted by mistake. He also gives large dinners and wears a beautiful +diamond pin.” + +“I believe he goes to bed in it. Oh, he's an awful ass! It was he who +said at a public function 'The Mayor of Wymington must be like Caesar's +wife--all things to all men!' Oh, he's a colossal ass! And his conceit! +My word!” + +“You needn't expatiate on it,” said I. “I who speak have suffered much +at the hands of Sir Gerald Macnaughton.” + +“If he did get into Parliament he'd expect an armchair to be put for him +next to the Speaker. Really, Lola, you never saw such a chap. If there +was any one else up against me I wouldn't mind. Anyway, I'm running down +to Wymington to-morrow to interview the committee. And if they choose +me, then it'll be a case of 'Lord don't help me and don't help the b'ar, +and you'll see the derndest best b'ar fight that ever was.' I'll make +things hum in Wymington!” + +He went on eagerly to explain how he would make things hum. For the +moment he had forgotten his enchantress who, understanding nothing of +platforms and planks and electioneering machinery, smiled with pensive +politeness at the fire. Here was the Dale that I knew and loved, boyish, +impetuous, slangy, enthusiastic. His dark eyes flashed, and he threw +back his head and laughed, as he enunciated his brilliant ideas for +capturing the constituency. + +“When I was working for you, I made love to half the women in the place. +You never knew that, you dear old stick. Now I'm going in on my own +account I'll make love to the whole crowd. You won't mind, Lola, will +you? There's safety in numbers. And when I have made love to them one +by one I'll get 'em all together and make love to the conglomerate mass! +And then I'll rake up all the prettiest women in London and get 'em down +there to humbug the men--” + +“Lady Kynnersley will doubtless be there,” said I; “and I don't quite +see her--” + +He broke in with a laugh: “Oh! the mater! I'll fix up her job all right. +She'll just love it, won't she? And then I know a lot of silly asses +with motor-cars who'll come down. They can't talk for cob-nuts, and +think the Local Option has something to do with vivisection, and have a +vague idea that champagne will be cheaper if we get Tariff Reform--but +they'll make a devil of a noise at meetings and tote people round the +country in their cars holding banners with 'Vote for Kynnersley' on +them. That's a sound idea, isn't it?” + +I gravely commended the statesmanlike sagacity of his plan of campaign, +and promised to write as soon as I got home to one or two members of the +committee whom I suspected of pro-Macnaughton leanings. + +“I do hope they'll adopt you!” I cried fervently. + +“So do I,” murmured Lola in her low notes. + +“If they don't,” said Dale, “I'll ask Raggles to give me an unpaid +billet somewhere. But,” he added, with a sigh, “that will be an awful +rotten game in comparison.” + +“I'm afraid you won't make Raggles hum,” said I. + +He laughed, rose and straddled across the hearthrug, his back to the +fire. + +“He'd throw me out if I tried, wouldn't he? But if they do adopt me--I +swear I'll make you proud of me, Simon. I'll stick my soul into it. It's +the least I can do in this horrid cuckoo sort of proceeding, and I feel +I shall be fighting for you as well as for myself. My dear old chap, you +know what I mean, don't you?” + +I knew, and was touched. I wished him God-speed with all my heart. +He was a clean, honest, generous gentleman, and I admired, loved and +respected him as he stood there full of his youth and hope. I suddenly +felt quite old and withered at the root of my being, like some decrepit +king who hands his crown to the young prince. I rose to take my +leave (for what advantage was there in staying?) and felt that I was +abandoning to Dale other things beside my crown. + +Lola's strong, boneless hand closed round mine in a more enveloping grip +than ever. She looked at me appealingly. + +“Shall I see you again before you go?” + +“Before you go?” cried Dale. “Where are you off to?” + +“Somewhere south, out of the fogs.” + +“When?” + +“At once,” said I. + +He turned to our hostess. “We can't let him go like that. I wonder if +you could fix up a little dinner here, Lola, for the three of us. It +would be ripping, so cosy, you know.” + +He glowed with the preposterous inspiration. Lola began politely: + +“Of course, if Mr. de Gex----” + +“It would be delightful,” said I, “but I'm starting at once--to-morrow +or the day after. We will have the dinner when I come back and you are a +full-blown Member of Parliament.” + +I made my escape and fled to my own cheerful library. It is oak-panelled +and furnished with old oak, and the mezzo-tints on the walls are mellow. +Of the latter, I have a good collection, among them a Prince Rupert of +which I am proud. I threw myself, a tired man, into an armchair by the +fire, and rang the bell for a brandy and soda. Oh, the comfort of the +rooms, the comfort of Rogers, the comfort of the familiar backs of the +books in the shelves! I felt loth to leave it all and go vagabonding +about the cold world on my lunatic adventure. For the first time in my +life I cursed Marcus Aurelius. I shook my fist at him as he stood on the +shelf within easy reach of my hand. It was he who had put into my head +this confounded notion of achieving eumoiriety. Am I dealing to myself, +I asked, a happy lot and portion? Certainly not, I replied, and when +Rogers brought me my brandy and soda I drank it off desperately. After +that I grew better, and drew up a merry little Commination Service. + +A plague on the little pain inside. + +A plague on Lady Kynnersley for weeping me into my rash undertaking. + +A plague on Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos for aiding and abetting +Lady Kynnersley. + +A plague on Captain Vauvenarde for running away from his wife; for +giving up the army; for not letting me know whether he is alive or dead; +for being, I'll warrant him, in the most uncomfortable and ungetatable +spot on the globe. + +A plague on Dale for becoming infatuated with Lola Brandt. A plague on +him for beguiling me to her acquaintance; for bursting into the room at +that unfortunate moment; for his generous, unsuspecting love for me; +for his youth and hope and charm; for asking me to dine with Lola and +himself in ripping cosiness. + +A plague on myself--just to show that I am broad-minded. + +And lastly, a plague, a special plague, a veritable murrain on Lola +Brandt for complicating the splendid singleness of my purpose. I don't +know what to think of myself. I have become a common conundrum--which +provides the lowest form of intellectual amusement. It is all her fault. + +Listen. I set out to free a young man of brilliant promise, at his +mother's earnest entreaty, from an entanglement with an impossible lady, +and to bring him to the feet of the most charming girl in the world who +is dying of love for him. Could intentions be simpler or more honourable +or more praiseworthy? + +I find myself, after two or three weeks, the lady's warm personal +friend, to a certain extent her champion bound by a quixotic oath to +restore her husband to her arms, and regarding my poor Dale with a +feeling which is neither more nor less than green-eyed jealousy. I am +praying heaven to grant his adoption by the Wymington committee, not +because it will be the first step of the ladder of his career, but +because the work and excitement of a Parliamentary election will +prohibit overmuch lounging in _my_ chair in Lola Brandt's drawing-room. + +Is there any drug I wonder which can restore a eumoirous tone to the +system? + +Of course, Dale came round to my chambers in the evening and talked +about Lola and himself and me until I sent him home to bed. He kept on +repeating at intervals that I was glorious. I grew tired at last of the +eulogy, and, adopting his vernacular, declared that I should be jolly +glad to get out of this rubbishy world. He protested. There was never +such a world. It was gorgeous. What was wrong with it, anyway? As I +could not show him the Commination Service, I picked imaginary flaws in +the universe. I complained of its amateurishness of design. But Dale, +who loves fact, was not drawn into a theological disputation. + +“Do you know, I had a deuce of a shock when I came into Lola's this +afternoon?” he cried irrelevantly, with a loud laugh. “I thought--it was +a damnable and idiotic thing to come into my head--but I couldn't help +thinking you had cut me out! I wanted to tell you. You must forgive me +for being such an ass. And I want to thank you for being so good to her +while I was away. She has been telling me. You like her, don't you? I +knew you would. No one can help it. Besides being other things, she's is +such a good sort, isn't she?” + +I admitted her many excellencies, while he walked about the room. + +“By Jove!” he cried, coming to a halt. “I've got a grand idea. My little +plan has succeeded so well with you that I've a good mind to try it on +my mother.” + +“What on earth do you mean?” I asked. + +“Why shouldn't I take the bull by the horns and bring my mother and Lola +together?” + +I gasped. “My dear boy,” said I. “Do you want to kill me outright? I +can't stand such shocks to the imagination.” + +“But it would be grand!” he exclaimed, delighted. “Why shouldn't +mother take a fancy to Lola? You can imagine her roping her in for the +committee!” + +I refused to imagine it for one instant, and I had the greatest +difficulty in the world to persuade him to renounce his maniacal +project. I am going to permit no further complications. + + + +I have been busy for the past day or two setting my house in order. +I start to-morrow for Paris. All my little affairs are comfortably +settled, and I can set out on my little trip to Avernus via Paris +and the habitat of Captain Vauvenarde with a quiet conscience. I have +allayed the anxiety of my sisters, whispered mysterious encouragement +to Maisie Ellerton, held out hopes of her son's emancipation to Lady +Kynnersley, played fairy godmother to various poor and deserving +persons, and brought myself into an enviable condition of glowing +philanthropy. + +To my great relief the Wymington committee have adopted Dale as their +candidate at the by-election. He can scarcely contain himself for joy. +He is like a child who has been told that he shall be taken to the +seaside. I believe he lies awake all night thinking how he will make +things hum. + +The other side have chosen Wilberforce, who unsuccessfully contested the +Ferney division of Wiltshire at the last general election. He is old and +ugly. Dale is young and beautiful. I think Dale will get in. + +I have said good-bye to Lola. The astonishing woman burst into tears +and kissed my hands and said something about my being the arbiter of +her destiny--a Gallic phrase which she must have picked up from Captain +Vauvenarde. Then she buried her face in the bristling neck of Adolphus, +the Chow dog, and declared him to be her last remaining consolation. +Even Anastasius Papadopoulos had ceased to visit her. I uttered words of +comfort. + +“I have left you Dale at any rate.” + +She smiled enigmatically through her tears. + +“I'm not ungrateful. I don't despise the crumbs.” + +Which remark, now that I come to think of it, was not flattering to my +young friend. + +But what is the use of thinking of it? My fire is burning low. It is +time I ended this portion of my “Rule and Example of Eumoiriety,” which, +I fear, has not followed the philosophic line I originally intended. + +The die is cast. My things are packed. Rogers, who likes his British +beef and comforts, is resigned to the prospect of Continental travel, +and has gone to bed hours ago. There is no more soda water in the +siphon. I must go to bed. + +Paris to-morrow. + + + +CHAPTER X + +“Ay!” says Touchstone; “now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was +at home I was in a better place.” + +Now am I in Algiers; the more fool I; et cetera, et cetera. + +It is true that from my bedroom window in the Albany I cannot see +the moon silvering the Mediterranean, or hear the soft swish of +pepper-trees; it is true that oranges and eucalyptus do not flourish +in the Albany Court-yard as they do in this hotel garden at Mustapha +Superieur; it is true that the blue African sky and sunshine are more +agreeable than Piccadilly fogs; but, after all, his own kennel is +best for a dying dog, and his own familiar surroundings best for his +declining hours. Again, Touchstone had not the faintest idea what he was +going to do in the Forest of Arden, and I was equally ignorant of what +would befall when I landed at Algiers. He was bound on a fool adventure, +and so was I. He preferred the easy way of home, and so do I. I have +always loved Touchstone, but I have never thoroughly understood him till +now. + +It rained persistently in Paris. It rained as I drove from the Gare du +Nord to my hotel. It rained all night. It rained all the day I spent +there and it rained as I drove from my hotel to the Gare de Lyon. +A cheery newspaper informed me that there were torrential rains at +Marseilles. I mentioned this to Rogers, who tried to console me by +reminding me that we were only staying at Marseilles for a few hours. + +“That has nothing to do with it,” said I. “At Marseilles I always eat +bouillabaisse on the quay. Fancy eating bouillabaisse in the pouring +rain!” + +As usual, Rogers could not execute the imaginative exercise I +prescribed; so he strapped my hold-all with an extra jerk. + +Now, when homespun London is wet and muddy, no one minds very much. +But when silken Paris lies bedraggled with rain and mud, she is the +forlornest thing under the sky. She is a hollow-eyed pale city, the +rouge is washed from her cheeks, her hair hangs dank and dishevelled, +in her aspect is desolation, and moaning is in her voice. I have a +Sultanesque feeling with regard to Paris. So long as she is amusing and +gay I love her. I adore her mirth, her chatter, her charming ways. But +when she has the toothache and snivels, she bores me to death. I lose +all interest in her. I want to clap my hands for my slaves, in order to +bid them bring me in something less dismal in the way of fair cities. + +I drove to the Rue Saint-Dominique and handed in my card and letter +of introduction at the _Ministere de la Guerre_. I was received by +the official in charge of the _Bureau des Renseignements_ with bland +politeness tempered with suspicion that I might be taking a mental +photograph of the office furniture in order to betray its secret to +a foreign government. After many comings and goings of orderlies +and underlings, he told me very little in complicated and reluctant +language. Captain Vauvenarde had resigned his commission in the +Chasseurs d'Afrique two years ago. At the present moment the Bureau had +no information to give as to his domicile. + +“Have you no suggestion, Monsieur, to offer?” I asked, “whereby I may +obtain this essential information concerning Captain Vauvenarde?” + +“His old comrades in the regiment might know, Monsieur.” + +“And the regiment?” + +He opened the _Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise_, just as I might +have done myself, and said: + +“There are six regiments. One is at Blidah, another at Tlemcen, another +at Constantine, another at Tunis, another at Algiers, and another at +Mascara.” + +“To which regiment, then, did Captain Vauvenarde belong?” I inquired. + +He referred to one of the dossiers that the orderlies had brought him. + +“The 3rd, Monsieur.” + +“I should get information, then, from Tlemcen?” + +“Evidently, Monsieur.” + +I thanked him and withdrew, to his obvious relief. Seekers after +knowledge are unpopular even in organisations so far removed from the +Circumlocution Office as the French _Ministere de la Guerre_. However, +he had put me on the trail of my man. + +During my homeward drive through the rain I reflected. I might, of +course, write to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment at Tlemcen, +and wait for his reply. But even if he answered by return of post, I +should have to remain in Paris for nearly a week. + +“That,” said I, wiping from my face half a teacupful of liquid mud +which had squirted in through the cab window--“that I'll never do. I'll +proceed at once to Algiers. If I can get no news of him there, I'll go +to Tlemcen myself. In all probability I shall learn that he is residing +here in Paris, a stone's throw from the Madeleine.” + +So I started for Algiers. The next morning, before the sailing of the +_Marechal Bugeaud_, one of the quaint churns styled a steamship by the +vanity of the French Company which undertakes to convey respectable folk +across the Mediterranean, I ate my bouillabaisse below an awning on the +sunny quay at Marseilles. The torrential rains had ceased. I advised +Rogers to take equivalent sustenance, as no lunch is provided on day of +sailing by the Compagnie Generale Transatlantique. I caught sight of him +in a dark corner of the restaurant--he is too British to eat in the +open air on the terrace, or perhaps too modest to have his meal in +my presence--struggling grimly with a beefsteak, and, as he is a +teetotaller, with an unimaginable, horrific liquid which he poured out +from a vessel vaguely resembling a teapot. + +My meal over, and having nearly an hour to spare, I paid my bill, rose +and turned the corner of the quay into the Cannebiere, thinking to have +my coffee at one of the cafes in that thoroughfare of which the natives +say that, if Paris had a Cannebiere, it would be a little Marseilles. I +suppose for the Marseillais there is a magic in the sonorous name; for, +after all, it is but a commonplace street of shops running from the +quays into the heart of the town. It is also deformed by tramcars. I +strolled leisurely up, thinking of the many swans that were geese, and +Paradises that were building-plots, and heroes that were dummies, and +solidities that were shadows, in short, enjoying a gentle post-prandial +mood, when my eyes suddenly fell on a scene which brought me down from +such realities to the realm of the fantastic. There, a few yards in +front of me, at the outer edge of the terrace of a cafe, clad in +his eternal silk hat, frock coat, and yellow gloves, sat Professor +Anastasius Papadopoulos in earnest conversation with a seedy stranger of +repellent mien. The latter was clean-shaven and had a broken nose, +and wore a little round, soft felt hat. The dwarf was facing me. As +he caught sight of me a smile of welcome overspread his Napoleonic +features. He rose, awaited my approach, and, bareheaded, made his usual +sweeping bow, which he concluded by resting his silk hat on the pit of +his stomach. I lifted my hat politely and would have passed on, but he +stood in my path. I extended my hand. He took it after the manner of a +provincial mayor receiving royalty. + +“_Couvrez-vous, Monsieur, je vous en prie_,” said I. + +He covered his head. “Monsieur,” said he, “I beseech you to be seated, +and do me the honour of joining me in the coffee and excellent cognac of +this establishment.” + +“Willingly,” said I, mindful of Lola's tale of the long knife which he +carried concealed about his person. + +“Permit me to present my friend Monsieur Achille Saupiquet--Monsieur de +Gex, a great English statesman and a friend of that _gnadigsten Engel_, +Madame Lola Brandt.” + +Monsieur Saupiquet and I saluted each other formally. I took a seat. +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos moved a bundle of papers tied up with +pink ribbon from in front of me, and ordered coffee and cognac. + +“Monsieur Saupiquet also knows Madame Brandt,” he explained. + +“_Bien sur_,” said Monsieur Saupiquet. “She owes me fifteen sous.” + +Papadopoulos turned on his sharply. “Will you be silent!” + +The other grumbled beneath his breath. + +“I hope Madame is well,” said Papadopoulos. + +I said that she appeared so, when last I had the pleasure of seeing her. +The dwarf turned to his friend. + +“Monsieur has also done my cats the honour of attending a rehearsal. +He has seen Hephaestus, and his tears have dropped in sympathy over the +irreparable loss of my beautiful Santa Bianca.” + +“I hope the talented survivors,” said I, “are enjoying their usual +health.” + +“My daily bulletin from my pupil and assistant, Quast, contains +excellent reports. _Prosit_, Signore.” + +It was only when I found myself at the table with the dwarf and his +broken-nosed friend that I collected my wits sufficiently to realise +the probable reason of his presence in Marseilles. The grotesque little +creature had actually kept his ridiculous word. He, too, had come south +in search of the lost Captain Vauvenarde. We were companions in the Fool +Adventure. There was something mediaeval in the combination; something +legendary. Put back the clock a few centuries and there we were, the +Knight and the Dwarf, riding together on our quest, while the Lady for +whose sake we were making idiots of ourselves was twiddling her fair +thumbs in her tower far beyond the seas. + +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos broke upon this pleasing fancy by +remarking again that Monsieur Saupiquet was a friend of Madame Brandt. + +“He was with her at the time of her great bereavement.” + +“Bereavement?” I asked forgetfully. + +“Her horse Sultan.” + +He whispered the words with solemn reverence. I must confess to being +tired of the horse Sultan and disinclined to treat his loss seriously. + +“Monsieur Saupiquet,” said I, “doubtless offered her every consolation.” + +“He used to travel with her and look after Sultan's well-being. He was +her----” + +“Her Master of the Horse,” I suggested. + +“Precisely. You have the power of using the right word, Monsieur de Gex. +It is a great gift. My good friend Saupiquet is attached to a circus at +present stationed in Toulon. He came over, at my request, to see me--on +affairs of the deepest importance”--he waved the bundle of papers--“the +very deepest importance. _Nicht wahr_, Saupiquet?” + +“_Bien sur_,” murmured Saupiquet, who evidently did not count loquacity +among his vices. + +I wondered whether these important affairs concerned the whereabouts of +Captain Vauvenarde; but the dwarf's air of mystery forbade my asking for +his confidence. Besides, what should a groom in a circus know of retired +Captains of Chasseurs? I said: + +“You're a very busy man, Monsieur le Professeur.” + +He tapped his domelike forehead. “I am never idle. I carry on here +gigantic combinations. I should have been a lawyer. I can spread nets +that no one sees, and then--pst! I draw the rope and the victim is +in the toils of Anastasius Papadopoulos. _Hast du nicht das bemerkt_, +Saupiquet?” + +“_Bien sur_,” said Saupiquet again. He seemed perfectly conversant with +the dwarf's polyglot jargon. + +“To the temperament of the artist,” continued the modest Papadopoulos, +“I join the intellect of the man of affairs and the heart of a young +poet. I am always young; yet as you see me here I am thirty-seven years +of age.” + +He jumped from his chair and struck an attitude of the Apollo Belvedere. + +“I should never have thought that you were of the same age as a bettered +person like myself,” said I. + +“The secret of youth,” he rejoined, sitting down again, “is enthusiasm, +the worship of a woman, and intimate association with cats.” + +Monsieur Saupiquet received this proposition without a gleam of interest +manifesting itself in his dull blue eyes. His broken nose gave his face +a singularly unintelligent expression. He poured out another glass of +cognac from the graduated carafe in front of him and sipped it slowly. +Then he gazed at me dully, almost for the first time, and said: + +“Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous.” + +“And I say that she doesn't!” cried the dwarf fiercely. “I send for him +to discuss matters of the deepest gravity, and he comes talking about +his fifteen sous. I can't get anything out of him, but his fifteen sous. +And the _carissima signora_ doesn't owe it to him. She can't owe it +to him. _Voyons_, Saupiquet, if you don't renounce your miserable +pretensions you will drive me mad, you will make me burst into tears, +you will make me throw you out into the street, and hold you down until +you are run over by a tramcar. You will--you will”--he shook his fist +passionately as he sought for a climactic menace--“you will make me spit +in your eye.” + +He dashed his fist down on the marble table so that the glasses jingled. +Saupiquet finished his cognac undisturbed. + +“I say that Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous, and until that is paid, +I do no business.” + +The little man grew white with exasperation, and his upper lip +lifted like an angry cat's, showing his teeth. I shrank from meeting +Saupiquet's eye. Hurriedly, I drew a providential handful of coppers +from my pocket. + +“Stop, Herr Professor,” said I, eager to prevent the shedding of tears, +blood, or saliva, “I have just remembered. Madame did mention to me an +unaquitted debt in the South, and begged me to settle it for her. I am +delighted to have the opportunity. Will you permit me to act as Madam's +banker?” + +The dwarf at once grew suave and courteous. + +“The word of _carissima signora_ is the word of God,” said he. + +I solemnly counted out the fifteen halfpence on the table and pushed +them over to Saupiquet, who swept them up and put them in his pocket. + +“Now we can talk,” said he. + +“Make him give you a receipt!” cried Papadopoulos excitedly. “I know +him! He is capable of any treachery where money is concerned. He is +capable of re-demanding the sum from Madame Brandt. He is an ingrate. +And she, Monsieur le Membre du Parlement Anglais, has overwhelmed him +with benefits. Do you know what she did? She gave him the carcass of her +beloved Sultan to dispose of. And he sold it, Monsieur, and he got drunk +on the money.” + +The mingled emotions of sorrow at the demise of Sultan, the royal +generosity of Madame Brandt, and the turpitude of his friend Saupiquet, +brought tears to the little man's eyes. Monsieur Saupiquet shrugged his +shoulders unconcernedly. + +“A poor man has to get drunk when he can. It is only the rich who can +get drunk when they like.” + +I looked at my watch and rose in a hurry. + +“I'm afraid I must take an unceremonious leave of you, Monsieur le +Professeur.” + +“You must wait for the receipt,” cried the dwarf. + +“Will you do me the honour of holding it for me until we meet again? +Hi!” The interpellation was addressed to a cabman a few yards away. +“Your conversation has made me neglect the flight of time. I shall only +just catch my boat.” + +“Your boat?” + +“I am going to Algiers.” + +“Where will you be staying, Monsieur? I ask in no spirit of vulgar +curiosity.” + +I raised a protesting hand, and with a smile named my hotel. + +“I arrived here from Algiers yesterday afternoon,” he said, “and I +proceed there again to-morrow.” + +“I regret,” said I, “that you are not coming to-day, so that I could +have the pleasure of your company on the voyage.” + +My polite formula seemed to delight Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos +enormously. He made a series of the most complicated bows, to the joy +of the waiters and the passers-by. I shook hands with him and with +the stolid Monsieur Saupiquet, and waving my hat more like an excited +Montenegrin than the most respectable of British valetudinarians, I +drove off to the Quai de la Joliette, where I found an anxious but +dogged Rogers, in the midst of a vociferating crowd, literally holding +the bridge that gave access to the _Marechal Bugeaud_. + +“Thank Heaven, you've come, sir! You almost missed it. I couldn't have +held out another minute.” + +I, too, was thankful. If I had missed the boat I should have had to wait +till the next day and crossed in the embarrassing and unrestful company +of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. It is not that I dislike the +little man, or have the Briton's nervous shrinking from being seen +in eccentric society; but I wish to eliminate mediaevalism as far as +possible from my quest. In conjunction with this crazy-headed little +trainer of cats it would become too preposterous even for my light +sardonic humour. I resolved to dismiss him from my mind altogether. + +Yet, in spite of my determination, and in spite of one of Monsieur +Lenotre's fascinating monographs on the French Revolution, on which +I had counted to beguile the tedium of the journey, I could not get +Anastasius Papadopoulos out of my head. He stayed with me the whole of +a storm-tossed night, and all the next morning. He has haunted my +brain ever since. I see him tossing his arms about in fury, while the +broken-nosed Saupiquet makes his monotonous claim for the payment +of sevenpence halfpenny; I hear him speak in broken whispers of the +disastrous quadruped on whose skin and hoofs Saupiquet got drunk. I +see him strutting about and boasting of his intellect. I see him taking +leave of Lola Brandt, and trotting magnificently out of the room bent on +finding Captain Vauvenarde. He haunts my slumbers. I hope to goodness he +will not take to haunting this delectable hotel. + +I wonder, after all, whether there is any method in his madness--for mad +he is, as mad as can be. Why does he come backwards and forwards between +Algiers and Marseilles? What has Saupiquet to do with his quest? What +revelation was he about to make on the payment of his fifteen sous? +It is all so grotesque, so out of relation with ordinary life. I feel +inclined to go up to the retired Colonels and elderly maiden ladies, who +seem to form the majority of my fellow-guests, and pinch them and ask +them whether they are real, or, like Papadopoulos and Saupiquet, the +gentler creatures of a nightmare. + +Well, I have written to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment of +Chasseurs at Tlemcen, which is away down by the Morocco frontier. I have +also written to Lola Brandt. I seem to miss her as much as any of the +friends I have left behind me in England. I cannot help the absurd fancy +that her rich vitality helps me along. I have not been feeling quite +so robust as I did when I saw her daily. And twinges are coming more +frequently. I don't think that rolling about in the Mediterranean on +board the _Marechal Bugeaud_ is good for little pains inside. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +When I began this autobiographical sketch of the last few weeks of my +existence, I had conceived, as I have already said, the notion of making +it chiefly a guide to conduct for my young disciple, Dale Kynnersley. +Not only was it to explain to him clearly the motives which led to my +taking any particular line of action with regard to his affairs, and so +enable me to escape whatever blame he might, through misunderstanding, +be disposed to cast on me, but also to elevate his mind, stimulate his +ambitions, and improve his morals. It was to be a Manual of Eumoiriety. +It was to be sweetened with philosophic reflections and adorned with +allusions to the lives of the great masters of their destiny who have +passed away. It was to have been a pretty little work after the manner +of Montaigne, with the exception that it ran of its own accord into +narrative form. But I am afraid Lola Brandt has interposed herself +between me and my design. She had brought me down from the serene +philosophic plane where I could think and observe human happenings and +analyse them and present them in their true aspect to my young friend. +She has set me down in the thick of events--and not events such as +the smiling philosopher is in the habit of dealing with, but lunatic, +fantastic occurrences with which no system of philosophy invented by man +is capable of grappling. I can just keep my head, that is all, and note +down what happens more or less day by day, so that when the doings of +dwarfs and captains, and horse-tamers and youthful Members of Parliament +concern me no more, Dale Kynnersley can have a bald but veracious +statement of fact. And as I have before mentioned, he loves facts, just +as a bear loves honey. + +I passed a quiet day or two in my hotel garden, among the sweet-peas, +and the roses, and the geraniums. There were little shady summer-houses +where one could sit and dream, and watch the blue sky and the palms and +the feathery pepper trees drooping with their coral berries, and the +golden orange-trees and the wisteria and the great gorgeous splash of +purple bougainvillea above the Moorish arches of the hotel. There were +mild little walks in the eucalyptus woods behind, where one went through +acanthus and wild absinthe, and here and there as the path wound, the +great blue bay came into view, and far away the snow-capped peaks of the +Atlas. There were warmth and sunshine, and the unexciting prattle of +the retired Colonels and maiden ladies. There was a hotel library filled +with archaic fiction. I took out Ainsworth's “Tower of London,” and +passed a happy morning in the sun renewing the thrills of my childhood. +I began to forget the outer world in my enchanted garden, like a knight +in the Forest of Broceliande. + +Then came the letter from Tlemcen. The Lieutenant-Colonel commanding +the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs d'Afrique had received my honoured +communication but regretted to say that he, together with all the +officers of the regiment, had severed their connection with Captain +Vauvenarde, and that they were ignorant of his present address. + +This was absurd. A man does not resign from his regiment and within +a year or two disappear like a ghost from the ken of every one of +his brother officers. I read the letter again. Did the severance of +connection mean the casting out of a black sheep from their midst? +I came to the conclusion that it did. They had washed their hands of +Captain Vauvenarde, and desired to hear nothing of him in the future. + +So I awoke from my lethargy, and springing up sent not for my shield and +spear, but for an “Indicateur des Chemins de Fer.” I would go to Tlemcen +and get to the bottom of it. I searched the time-table and found two +trains, one starting from Algiers at nine-forty at night and getting +into Tlemcen at noon next day, and one leaving at six-fifty in the +morning and arriving at half-past ten at night. I groaned aloud. The +dealing unto oneself a happy life and portion did not include abominable +train journeys like these. I was trying to decide whether I should +travel all night or all day when the Arab chasseur of the hotel brought +me a telegram. I opened it. It ran: + + +“Starting for Algiers. Meet me.--LOLA.” + + +It was despatched that morning from Victoria Station. I gazed at it +stupidly. Why in the world was Lola Brandt coming to join me in Algiers? +If she had wanted to do her husband hunting on her own account, why had +she put me to the inconvenience of my journey? Her action could not have +been determined by my letter about Anastasius Papadopoulos, as a short +calculation proved that it could not have reached her. I wandered round +and round the garden paths vainly seeking for the motive. Was it escape +from Dale? Had she, womanlike, taken the step which she was so anxious +to avoid--and in order to avoid taking which all this bother had +arisen--and given the boy his dismissal? If so, why had she not gone to +Paris or St. Petersburg or Terra del Fuego? Why Algiers? Dale abandoned +outright, the necessity for finding her husband had disappeared. Perhaps +she was coming to request me, on that account, to give up the search. +But why travel across seas and continents when a telegram or a letter +would have sufficed? She was coming at any rate; and as she gave no date +I presumed that she would travel straight through and arrive in about +forty-eight hours. This reflection caused a gleam of sunshine to +traverse my gloom. I was not physically capable of performing the +journey to Tlemcen and back before her arrival. I could, therefore, +dream among the roses of the garden for another couple of days. And when +she came, perhaps she would like to go to Tlemcen herself and try +the effect of her woman's fascinations on the Lieutenant-Colonel and +officers of the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs d'Afrique. + +In any case, her sudden departure argued well for Dale's liberation. +If the rupture had occurred I was quite contented. That is what I had +wished to accomplish. It only remained now to return to London, while +breath yet stayed in my body, and lead him diplomatically to the feet of +Maisie Ellerton. Then I would have ended my eumoirous task, and my last +happy words would be a paternal benediction. But all the same, I had set +forth to find this confounded captain and did not want to be hindered. +The sportsman's instinct which, in my robust youth, had led me to crawl +miles on my belly over wet heather in order to get a shot at a stag, I +found, somewhat to my alarm, was urging me on this chase after Captain +Vauvenarde. He was my quarry. I resented interference. Deer-stalking +then, and man-stalking now, I wanted no petticoats in the party. I +worked myself up into an absurd state of irritability. Why was she +coming to spoil the sport? I had arranged to track her husband down, +reason with him, work on his feelings, telegraph for his wife, and in +an affecting interview throw them into each other's arms. Now, goodness +knows what would happen. Certainly not my beautifully conceived _coup de +theatre_. + +“And she has the impertinence,” I cried in my wrath, “to sign herself +'Lola'! As if I ever called her, or could ever be in a position to call +her 'Lola'! I should like to know,” I exclaimed, hurling the “Indicateur +des Chemins de Fer” on to the seat of a summer-house, built after the +manner of a little Greek temple, “I should like to know what the deuce +she means by it!” + +“Hallo! Hallo! What the devil's the matter?” cried a voice; and I +found I had disturbed from his slumbers an unnoticed Colonel of British +Cavalry. + +“A thousand pardons!” said I. “I thought I was alone, and gave vent to +the feelings of the moment.” + +Colonel Bunnion stretched himself and joined me. + +“That's the worst of this place,” he said. “It's so liverish. One lolls +about and sleeps all day long, and one's liver gets like a Strasburg +goose's and plays Old Harry with one's temper. Why one should come here +when there are pheasants to be shot in England, I don't know.” + +“Neither your liver nor your temper seem to be much affected, Colonel,” + said I, “for you've been violently awakened from a sweet sleep and are +in a most amiable frame of mind.” + +He laughed, suggested exercise, the Briton's panacea for all ills, and +took me for a walk. When we returned at dusk, and after I had had tea +before the fire (for December evenings in Algiers are chilly) in one of +the pretty Moorish alcoves of the lounge, my good humour was restored. I +viewed our pursuit of Captain Vauvenarde in its right aspect--that of +a veritable Snark-Hunt of which I was the Bellman--and the name “Lola” + curled itself round my heart with the same grateful sensation of comfort +as the warm China tea. After all, it was only as Lola that I thought +of her. The name fitted her personality, which Brandt did not. Out +of “Brandt” I defy you to get any curvilinear suggestion. I reflected +dreamily that it would be pleasant to walk with her among the roses in +the sunshine and to drink tea with her in dusky Moorish alcoves. I also +thought, with an enjoyable spice of malice, of what the retired Colonels +and elderly maiden ladies would have to say about Lola when she arrived. +They should have a gorgeous time. + +So light-hearted did I become that, the next evening, while I was +dressing for dinner, I did not frown when the chasseur brought me up the +huge trilingual visiting-card of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. + +“Show the gentleman up,” said I. + +Rogers handed me my black tie and began to gather together discarded +garments so as to make the room tidy for the visitor. It was a +comfortable bed-sitting-room, with the bed in an alcove and a tiny +dressing-room attached. A wood fire burned on the hearth on each side of +which was an armchair. Presently there came a knock at the door. Rogers +opened it and admitted Papadopoulos, who forthwith began to execute his +usual manoeuvres of salutation. Rogers stood staring and open-mouthed +at the apparition. It took all his professional training in +imperturbability to enable him to make a decent exit. This increased my +good humour. I grasped the dwarf's hand. + +“My dear Professor, I am delighted to see you. Pray excuse my receiving +you in this unceremonious fashion, and sit down by the fire.” + +I hastily completed my toilette by stuffing my watch, letter-case, loose +change and handkerchief into my pockets, and took a seat opposite him. + +“It is I,” said he politely, “who must apologise for this untimely call. +I have wanted to pay my respects to you since I arrived in Algiers, but +till now I have had no opportunity.” + +“Allow me,” said I, “to disembarrass you of your hat.” + +I took the high-crowned, flat-brimmed thing which he was nursing +somewhat nervously on his knees, and put it on the table. He murmured +that I was “_Sehr aimable_.” + +“And the charming Monsieur Saupiquet, how is he?” I asked. + +He drew out his gilt-embossed pocket-book, and from it extracted an +envelope. + +“This,” said he, handing it to me, “is the receipt. I have to thank you +again for regulating the debt, as it has enabled me to transact with +Monsieur Saupiquet the business on which I summoned him from Toulon. He +is the most obstinate, pig-headed camel that ever lived, and I believe +he has returned to Toulon in the best of health. No, thank you,” he +added, refusing my offer of cigarettes, “I don't smoke. It disturbs +the perfect adjustment of my nerves, and so imperils my gigantic +combinations. It is also distasteful to my cats.” + +“You must miss them greatly,” said I. + +He sighed--then his face lit up with inspiration. + +“Ah, signor! What would one not sacrifice for an idea, for duty, for +honour, for the happiness of those we love?” + +“Those are sentiments, Monsieur Papadopoulos,” I remarked, “which do you +infinite credit.” + +“And, therefore, I express them, sir,” he replied, “to show you what +manner of man I am.” He paused for a moment; then bending forward, his +hands on his little knees--he was sitting far back in the chair and his +legs were dangling like a child's--he regarded me intently. + +“Would you be equally chivalrous for the sake of an idea?” + +I replied that I hoped I should conduct myself _en galant homme_ in any +circumstances. + +“I knew it,” he cried. “My intuition is never wrong. An English +statesman is as fearless as Agamemnon, and as wise as Nestor. Have you +your evening free?” + +“Yes,” I replied wonderingly. + +“Would you care to devote it to a perilous adventure? Not so perilous, +for I”--he thumped his chest--“will be there. But still _molto +gefahrlich_.” + +His black eyes held mine in burning intensity. So as to hide a smile I +lit a cigarette. I know not what little imp in motley possessed me that +evening. He seemed to hit me over the head with his bladder, and counsel +me to play the fool like himself, for once in my life before I died. I +could almost hear him speaking. + +“Surely a crazy dwarf out of a nightmare is more entertaining company +than decayed Colonels of British Cavalry.” + +I blew two or three puffs of my cigarette, and met my guest's eager +gaze. + +“I shall be happy to put myself at your disposal,” said I. “May I ask, +without indiscretion--?” + +“No, no,” he interrupted, “don't ask. Secrecy is part of the gigantic +combination. _En galant homme_, I require of you--confidence.” + +With an irresistible touch of mockery I said: “Professor Papadopoulos, +I will be happy to follow you blindfold to the lair of whatever +fire-breathing dragon you may want me to help you destroy.” + +He rose and grasped his hat and made me a profound bow. + +“You will not find me wanting in courage, Monsieur. There is +another small favour I would ask of you. Will you bring some of your +visiting-cards?” + +“With pleasure,” said I. + +At that moment the gong clanged loudly through the hotel. + +“It is your dinner-hour,” said the dwarf. “I depart. Our rendezvous--” + +“Let us have no rendezvous, my dear Professor,” I interposed. “What more +simple than that you should do me the pleasure of dining with me here? +We can thus fortify ourselves with food and drink for our adventure, and +we can start on it comfortably together whenever it seems good to you.” + +The little man put his head on one side and looked at me in an odd way. + +“Do you mean,” he asked in a softened voice, “that you ask me to dine +with you in the midst of your aristocratic compatriots?” + +“Why, evidently,” said I, baffled. “It's only an ordinary table d'hote +dinner.” + +To my astonishment, tears actually spurted out of the eyes of the +amazing little creature. He took my hand and before I knew what he was +going to do with it he had touched it with his lips. + +“My dear Professor!” I cried in dismay. + +He put up a pudgy hand, and said with great dignity: + +“I cannot dine with you, Monsieur de Gex. But I thank you from my heart +for your generous kindness. I shall never forget it to my dying day.” + +“But----” + +He would listen to no protests. “If you will do me the honour of coming +at nine o'clock to the Cafe de Bordeaux, at the corner of the Place +du Gouvernement, I shall be there. _Auf wiedersehen_, Monsieur, and a +thousand thanks. I beg you as a favour not to accompany me. I couldn't +bear it.” + +And, drawing a great white handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his +eyes, blew his nose, and disappeared like a flash through the door which +I held open for him. + +I went down to dinner in a chastened mood. The little man had not shown +me before the pathetic side of the freak's life. By asking him to dinner +as if he were normal I had earned his eternal gratitude. And yet, with +a smile, which I trust the Recording Angel when he makes up my final +balance-sheet of good and evil will not ascribe to an unfeeling heart, +I could not help formulating the hope that his gratitude would not be +shown by presents of China fowls sitting on eggs, Tyrolese chalets and +bottles with ladders and little men inside them. I did not feel within +me the wide charity of Lola Brandt; and I could not repress a smile, as +I ate my solitary meal, at the perils of the adventure to which I was +invited. I had no doubt that it bore the same relation to danger as +Monsieur Saupiquet's sevenpence-halfpenny bore to a serious debt. + +Colonel Bunnion, a genial little red-faced man, with bulgy eyes and +a moustache too big for his body, who sat, also solitary, at the next +table to mine, suddenly began to utter words which I discovered were +addressed to me. + +“Most amazing thing happened to me as I was coming down to dinner. Just +got out of the corridor to the foot of the stairs, when down rushed +something about three foot nothing in a devil of a top-hat and butted me +full in the pit of the stomach, and bounded off like a football. When I +picked it up I found it was a man--give you my word--it was a man. About +so high. Gave me quite a turn.” + +“That,” said I, with a smile, “was my friend Professor Anastasius +Papadopoulos.” + +“A friend of yours?” + +“He had just been calling on me.” + +“Then I wish you'd entreat him not to go downstairs like a six-inch +shell. I'll have a bruise to-morrow where the crown of his hat caught me +as big as a soup-plate.” + +I offered the cheerily indignant warrior apologies for my friend's +parabolic method of descent, and suggested Elliman's Embrocation. + +“The most extraordinary part of it,” he interrupted, “was that when I +picked him up he was weeping like anything. What was he crying about?” + +“He is a sensitive creature,” said I, “and he doesn't come upon the pit +of the stomach of a Colonel of British Cavalry every day in the week.” + +He sniffed uncertainly at the remark for a second or two and then +broke into a laugh and asked me to play bridge after dinner. On the two +preceding evenings he and I had attempted to cheer, in this manner, +the desolation of a couple of the elderly maiden ladies. But I may +say, parenthetically, that as he played bridge as if he were leading a +cavalry charge according to a text-book on tactics, and as I play card +games in a soft, mental twilight, and as the two ladies were very keen +bridge players indeed, I had great doubts as to the success of our +attempts. + +“I'm sorry,” said I, “but I'm going down into the town to-night.” + +“Theatre? If so, I'll go with you.” + +The gallant gentleman was always at a loose end. Unless he could +persuade another human being to do something with him--no matter +what--he would joyfully have played cat's cradle with me by the hour--he +sat in awful boredom meditating on his liver. + +“I'm not going to the theatre,” I said, “and I wish I could ask you to +accompany me on my adventure.” + +The Colonel raised his eyebrows. I laughed. + +“I'm not going to twang guitars under balconies.” + +The Colonel reddened and swore he had never thought of such a thing. He +was a perjured villain; but I did not tell him so. + +“In what my adventure will consist I can't say,” I remarked. + +“If you're going to fool about Algiers at night you'd better carry a +revolver.” + +I told him I did not possess such deadly weapons. He offered to lend +me one. The two Misses Bostock from South Shields, who sat at the table +within earshot and had been following our conversation, manifested signs +of excited interest. + +“I shall be quite protected,” said I, “by the dynamic qualities of +your acquaintance, Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos, with whom I have +promised to spend the evening.” + +“You had better have the revolver,” said the Colonel. And so bent was he +on the point, that after dinner he came to me in the lounge and laid a +loaded six-shooter beside my coffee-cup. The younger Miss Bostock grew +pale. It looked an ugly, cumbrous, devastating weapon. + +“But, my dear Colonel,” I protested, “it's against the law to carry +fire-arms.” + +“Law--what law?” + +“Why the law of France,” said I. + +This staggered him. The fact of there being decent laws in foreign parts +has staggered many an honest Briton. He counselled a damnation of the +law, and finally, in order to humour him, I allowed him to thrust the +uncomfortable thing into my hip-pocket. + +“Colonel,” said I, when I took leave of him an hour later, “I have armed +myself out of pure altruism. I shan't be able to sit down in peace and +comfort for the rest of the evening. Should I accidentally do so, my +blood will be on your head.” + + + +CHAPTER XII + +The tram that passes the hotel gates took me into the town and dropped +me at the Place du Gouvernement. With its strange fusion of East +and West, its great white-domed mosque flanked by the tall minaret +contrasting with its formal French colonnaded facades, its groupings of +majestic white-robed forms and commonplace figures in caps and hard +felt hats; the mystery of its palm trees, and the crudity of its +flaring electric lights, it gave an impression of unreality, of a modern +contractor's idea of Fairyland, where anything grotesque might assume an +air of normality. The moon shone full in the heavens, and as I crossed +the Place I saw the equestrian statue of the Duke of Orleans silhouetted +against the mosque. The port, to the east, was quiet at this hour, and +the shipping lay dreamily in the moonlight. Far away one could see the +dim outlines of the Kabyle Mountains, and the vague melting of sea and +sky into a near horizon. The undefinable smell of the East was in the +air. + +The Cafe de Bordeaux, which forms an angle of the Place, blazed in front +of me. A few hardy souls, a Zouave or two, an Arab, a bored Englishman +and his wife, and some French inhabitants were sitting outside in the +chilliness. I entered. The cafe was filled with a nondescript crowd, and +the rattle of dominoes rose above the hum of talk. In a corner near the +door I discovered the top of a silk hat projecting above a widely opened +newspaper grasped by two pudgy hands, and I recognised the Professor. + +“Monsieur,” said he, when I had taken a seat at his table, “if the +unknown terrors which you are going to confront dismay you, I beg that +you will not consider yourself bound to me.” + +“My dear Professor,” I replied, “a brave man tastes of death but once.” + +He was much delighted at the sentiment, which he took to be original. + +“I shall quote it,” said he, “whenever my honour or my courage is called +into question. It is not often that a man has the temerity to do so. Can +I have the honour of offering you a whisky and soda?” + +“Have we time?” I asked. + +“We have time,” he said, solemnly consulting his watch. “Things will +ripen.” + +“Then,” said I, “I shall have much pleasure in drinking to their +maturity.” + +While we were drinking our whisky and soda he talked volubly of many +things--his travels, his cats, his own incredible importance in +the cosmos. And as he sat there vapouring about the pathetically +insignificant he looked more like Napoleon III than ever. His eyes had +the same mournful depths, his features the same stamp of fatality. Each +man has his gigantic combinations--perhaps equally important in the eyes +of the High Gods. I was filled with an immense pity for Napoleon III. + +Of the object of the adventure he said nothing. As secrecy seemed to +be a vital element in his fifteen-cent scheme, I showed no embarrassing +curiosity. Indeed, I felt but little, though I was certain that the +adventure was connected with the world-cracking revelations of Monsieur +Saupiquet, and was undertaken in the interest of his beloved lady, Lola +Brandt. But it was like playing at pirates with a child, and my pity +for Napoleon gave place to my pity for my valiant but childish little +friend. + +At last he looked again at his watch. + +“The hour his struck. Let us proceed.” + +Instinctively I summoned the waiter, and drew a coin from my pocket; and +when the grown-up person and the small boy hobnob together the former +pays. But Anastasius, with a swift look of protest, anticipated my +intention. I was his guest for the evening. I yielded apologetically, +the score was paid, and we went forth into the moonlight. + +He led me across the Place du Gouvernement and struck straight up the +hill past the Cathedral, and, turning, plunged into a network of narrow +streets, where the poor of all races lived together in amity and evil +odours. Shops chiefly occupied the ground floors; some were the ordinary +humble shops of Europeans; others were caves lit by a smoky lamp, where +Arabs lounged and smoked around the tailors or cobblers squatting at +their work; others were Jewish, with Hebrew inscriptions. There were +dark Arab cafes, noisy Italian wine-shops, butchers' stalls; children of +all ages played and screamed about the precipitous cobble-paved streets; +and the shrill cries of Jewish women, sitting at their doors, rose in +rebuke of husband or offspring. Not many lights appeared through the +shuttered windows of the dark, high houses. Overhead, between two +facades, one saw a strip of paleness which one knew was the moonlit sky. +Conversation with my companion being difficult--the top of his silk hat +just reached my elbow--I strode along in silence, Anastasius trotting by +my side. Many jeers and jests were flung at us as we passed, whereat he +scowled terribly; but no one molested us. I am inclined to think that +Anastasius attributed this to fear of his fierce demeanour. If so, he +was happy, as were the simple souls who flouted; and this reflection +kept my mind serene. + +Presently we turned into a wide and less poverty-stricken street, which +I felt sure we could have reached by a less tortuous and malodorous +path. A few yards down we came to a dark _porte cochere_. The dwarf +halted, crossed, so as to read the number by the gas lamp, and joining +me, said: + +“It is here. Have you your visiting-cards ready?” + +I nodded. We proceeded down the dark entry till we came to a slovenly, +ill-kept glass box lit by a small gas jet, whence emerged a slovenly, +ill-kept man. This was the concierge. Anastasius addressed a remark to +him which I did not catch. + +“_Au fond de la cour, troisieme a gauche_,” said the concierge. + +As yet there seemed to be nothing peculiarly perilous about the +adventure. We crossed the cobble-paved courtyard and mounted an +evil-smelling stone staircase, blackened here and there by the +occasional gas jets. On the third landing we halted. Anastasius put up +his hand and gripped mine. + +“Two strong men together,” said he, “need fear nothing.” + +I confess my only fear was lest the confounded revolver which swung +insecurely in my hip-pocket might go off of its own accord. I did not +mention this to my companion. He raised his hat, wiped his brow, and +rang the bell. + +The door opened about six inches, and a man's dark-moustachioed face +appeared. + +“_Vous desirez, Messieurs_?” + +As I had not the remotest idea what we desired, I let Anastasius be +spokesman. + +“Here is an English milord,” said Anastasius boldly, “who would like to +be admitted for the evening to the privileges of the Club.” + +“Enter, gentlemen,” said the man, who appeared to be the porter. + +We found ourselves in a small vestibule. In front of us was a large +door, on the right a small one, both closed. At a table by the large +door sat a dirty, out-of-elbows raven of a man reading a newspaper. The +latter looked up and addressed me. + +“You wish to enter the Club, Monsieur?” + +I had no particular longing to do so, but I politely answered that such +was my desire. + +“If you will give your visiting-card, I will submit it to the +Secretariat.” + +I produced my card; Anastasius thrust a pencil into my hand. + +“Write my name on it, too.” + +I obeyed. The raven sent the porter with the card into the room on the +right, and resumed the perusal of his soiled newspaper. I looked at +Anastasius. The little man was quivering with excitement. The porter +returned after a few minutes with a couple of pink oval cards which he +handed to each of us. I glanced at mine. On it was inscribed: _Cercle +Africain d'Alger. Carte de Member Honoraire. Une soiree_. And then there +was a line for the honorary member's signature. The raven man dipped a +pen in the ink-pot in front of him and handed it to me. + +“Will you sign, Messieurs?” + +We executed this formality; he retained the cards, and opening the great +door, said: + +“_Entrez, Messieurs_!” + +The door closed behind us. It was simply a _tripot_, or gambling-den. +And all this solemn farce of Secretariats and _cartes d'entree_ to +obtain admission! It is curious how the bureaucratic instinct is +ingrained in the French character. + +It was a large, ill-ventilated room, blue with cigarette and cigar +smoke. Some thirty men were sitting or standing around a baccarat table +in the centre, and two or three groups hung around _ecarte_ tables in +the corners. A personage who looked like a slightly more prosperous +brother of the raven outside and wore a dinner-jacket, promenaded the +room with the air of one in authority. He scrutinised us carefully from +a distance; then advanced and greeted us politely. + +“You have chosen an excellent evening,” said he. “There are a great many +people, and the banks are large.” + +He bowed and passed on. A dingy waiter took our hats and coats and hung +them up. Anastasius plucked me by the sleeve. + +“If you don't mind staking a little for the sake of appearances, I shall +be grateful.” + +I whispered: “Can you tell me now, my dear Professor, for what reason +you have brought me to this gaming-hell?” + +He looked up at me out of his mournful eyes and murmured, “_Patienza, +lieber Herr_.” Then spying a vacant place behind the chairs at the +baccarat table, he darted thither, and I followed in his wake. There +must have been about a couple of hundred louis in the bank, which was +held by a dissipated, middle-aged man who, having once been handsome in +a fleshy way, had run to fat. His black hair, cropped short, stood up +like a shoebrush, and when he leaned back in his chair a roll of flesh +rose above his collar. I disliked the fellow for his unhealthiness, +and for the hard mockery in his puffy eyes. The company seemed fairly +homogeneous in its raffishness, though here and there appeared a thin, +aristocratic face, with grey moustache and pointed beard, and the homely +anxious visage of a small tradesman. But in bulk it looked an ugly, +seedy crowd, with unwashed bodies and unclean souls. I noticed an +Italian or two, and a villainous Englishman with a face like that of a +dilapidated horse. A glance at the table plastered with silver and gold +showed me that they were playing with a five-franc minimum. + +Anastasius drew a handful of louis from his pocket and staked one. I +staked a five-franc piece. The cards were dealt, the banker exposed a +nine, the highest number, and the croupier's flat spoon swept the table. +A murmur arose. The banker was having the luck of Satan. + +“He always protects me, the good fellow,” laughed the banker, who had +overheard the remark. + +Again we staked, again the hands were dealt. Our tableau or end of the +table won, the other lost. The croupier threw the coins in payment. I +let my double stake lie, and so did Anastasius. At the next coup we lost +again. The banker stuffed his winnings into his pocket and declared a +_suite_. The bank was put up at auction, and was eventually knocked down +to the same personage for fifty louis. The horse-headed Englishman +cried “_banco_,” which means that he would play the banker for the whole +amount. The hands were dealt, the Englishman lost, and the game started +afresh with a hundred louis in the bank. The proceedings began to bore +me. Even if my experience of life had not suggested that scrupulous +fairness and honour were not the guiding principles of such an +assemblage, I should have taken little interest in the game. I am a +great believer in the wholesomeness of compounding for sins you are +inclined to by damning those you have no mind to. It aids the nice +balance of life. And gambling is one of the sins I delight to damn. The +rapid getting of money has never appealed to me, who have always had +sufficient for my moderately epicurean needs, and least of all did it +appeal to me now when I was on the brink of my journey to the land where +French gold and bank notes were not in currency. I repeat, therefore, +that I was bored. + +“If the perils of the adventure don't begin soon, my dear Professor,” I +whispered, “I shall go to sleep standing.” + +Again he asked for patience and staked a hundred-franc note. At that +moment the man sitting at the table in front of him rose, and the dwarf +slipped swiftly into his seat. He won his hundred francs and made +the same stake again. It was obvious that the little man did not damn +gambling. It was a sin to which he appeared peculiarly inclined. The +true inwardness of the perilous adventure began to dawn on me. He had +come here to make the money wherewith he could further his gigantic +combinations. All this mystery was part of his childish cunning. I +hardly knew whether to box the little creature's ears, to box my own, +or to laugh. I compromised with a smile on the last alternative, and +baccarat being a dreary game to watch, I strolled off to the nearest +_ecarte_ table, and, to justify my presence in the room, backed one of +the players. + +Presently my attention was called to the baccarat table by a noise as +of some dispute, and turning, I saw the gentleman in the dinner-jacket +hurrying to what appeared to be the storm centre, the place where +Anastasius was sitting. Suspecting some minor peril, I left the _ecarte_ +players, and joined the gentleman in the dinner-jacket. It seemed that +the hand, which is played in rotation by those seated at each tableau +or half-table, had come round for the first time to Anastasius, and +objection had been taken to his playing it, on the score of his physical +appearance. The dwarf was protesting vehemently. He had played baccarat +in all the clubs of Europe, and had never received such treatment. It +was infamous, it was insulting. The malcontents of the punt paid +little heed to his remonstrances. They resented the entrusting of their +fortunes to one whose chin barely rose above the level of the table. +The banker lit a cigarette and sat back in his chair with a smile of +mockery. His attitude brought up the superfluous flesh about his chin +and the roll of fat at the back of his neck. With his moustache +_en croc_, and his shoebrush hair, I have rarely beheld a more +sensual-looking desperado. + +“But gentlemen,” said he, “I see no objection whatever to Monsieur +playing the hand.” + +“Naturally,” retorted a voice, “since it would be to your advantage.” + +The raven in the dinner-jacket commanded silence. + +“Gentlemen, I decide that, according to the rules of the game, Monsieur +is entitled to play the hand.” + +“Bravo!” exclaimed one or two of my friend's supporters. + +“_C'est idiot_!” growled the malcontents. + +“_Messieurs, faites vos jeux_!” cried the croupier. + +The stakes were laid, the banker looked around, estimating the +comparative values of the two tableaux. Anastasius had backed his hand +with a pile of louis. To encourage him, and to conciliate the hostile +punt, I threw down a hundred-franc note. + +“_Les jeux sont faits? Rien ne va plus_.” + +The banker dealt, two cards to each tableau, two to himself. Anastasius, +trembling with nervous excitement, stretched out a palsied little fist +towards the cards. He drew them towards him, face downwards, peeped at +them in the most approved manner, and in a husky voice called for an +extra card. + +The card dealt face upwards was a five. The banker turned up his own +cards, a two and a four, making a point of six. Naturally he stood, +Anastasius did nothing. + +“Show your cards--show your cards!” cried several voices. + +He turned over the two cards originally dealt to him. They were a king +and a nine, making the natural nine, the highest point, and he had +actually asked for another card. It was the unforgivable sin. The five +that had been dealt to him brought his point to four. There was a roar +of indignation. Men with violent faces rose and cursed him, and shook +their fists at him. Others clamoured that the coup was ineffective. They +were not going to be at the mercy of an idiot who knew nothing of the +game. The hand must be dealt over again. + +“_Jamais de la vie_!” shouted the banker. + +“_Le coup est bon_!” cried the raven in authority, and the croupier's +spoon hovered over the tableau. But the horse-headed Englishman clutched +the two louis he had staked. He was damned, and a great many other +things, if he would lose his money that way. The raven in the +dinner-jacket darted round, and bending over him, caught him by the +wrist. Two or three others grabbed their stakes, and swore they would +not pay. The banker rose and went to the rescue of his gains. There +was screaming and shouting and struggling and riot indescribable. Those +round about us went on cursing Anastasius, who sat quite still, with +quivering lips, as helpless as a rabbit. The raven tore his way +through the throng around the Englishman and came up to me excited and +dishevelled. + +“It is all your fault, Monsieur,” he shrieked, “for introducing into the +club a half-witted creature like that.” + +“Yes, it's your fault,” cried a low-browed, ugly fellow looking like +a butcher in uneasy circumstances who stood next to me. Suddenly the +avalanche of indignation fell upon my head. Angry, ugly men crowded +round me and began to curse me instead of the dwarf. Cries arose. The +adventure began, indeed, to grow idiotically perilous. I had never been +thrown out of doors in my life. I objected strongly to the idea. It +might possibly hurt my body, and would certainly offend my dignity. I +felt that I could not make my exit through the portals of life with the +urbanity on which I had counted, if, as a preparatory step, I had been +thrown out of a gambling-hell. There were only two things to be done. +Either I must whip out my ridiculous revolver and do some free shooting, +or I must make an appeal to the lower feelings of the assembly. I chose +the latter alternative. With a sudden movement I slipped through the +angry and gesticulating crowd, and leaped on a chair by one of the +deserted _ecarte_ tables. Then I raised a commanding arm, and, in my +best election-meeting voice, I cried: + +“_Messieurs_!” + +The unexpectedness of the manoeuvre caused instant silence. + +“As my friend and myself,” I said, “are the cause of this unpleasant +confusion, I shall be most happy to pay the banker the losses of the +tableau.” + +And I drew out and brandished my pocket-book, in which, by a special +grace of Providence, there happened to be a considerable sum of money. + +Murmurs of approbation arose. Then the Englishman sang out: + +“But what about the money we would have won, if that little fool had +played the game properly?” + +The remark was received with cheers. + +“That amount, too,” said I, “I shall be happy to disburse.” + +There was nothing more to be said, as everybody, banker and punt, were +satisfied. The raven in the dinner-jacket came up and informed me that +my proposal solved the difficulty. I besought him to make out the bill +for my little entertainment as quickly as possible. Then I dismounted +from my chair and beckoned to the dwarf, still sitting white and +piteous, to join me. He obeyed like a frightened child who had been +naughty. All his swagger and braggadocio were gone. His bosom heaved +with suppressed sobs. He sat down on the chair I had vacated and buried +his face on the _ecarte_ table. We remained thus aloof from the crowd +who were intent on the calculation at the baccarat table. At last the +raven in the dinner-jacket arrived with a note of the amount. It was +two thousand three hundred francs. I gave him the notes, and, taking +Anastasius by the arm, led him to the door, where the waiter stood with +our hats and coats. Before we could reach it, however, the banker, who +had risen from his seat, crossed the room and addressed me. + +“Monsieur,” said he, with an air of high-bred courtesy, “I infinitely +regret this unpleasant affair and I thank you for your perfect +magnanimity.” + +I did not suggest that with equal magnanimity he might refund the +forty-six pounds that had found its way from my pocket to his, but I +bowed with stiff politeness, and made my exit with as much dignity as +the attachment to my heels of the crestfallen Anastasius would permit. + +Outside I constituted myself the guide, and took the first turning +downhill, knowing that it would lead to the civilised centre of the +town. The dwarf's roundabout route was characteristic of his tortuous +mind. We walked along for some time without saying anything. I could +not find it in my heart to reproach the little man for the expensiveness +(nearly a hundred pounds) of his perilous adventure, and he seemed too +dazed with shame and humiliation to speak. At last, when we reached, +as I anticipated, the Square de la Republique, I patted him on the +shoulder. + +“Cheer up, my dear Professor,” said I. “We both are acquainted with +nobler things than the ins and outs of gaming-hells.” + +He reeled to a bench under the palm trees, and bursting into tears, gave +vent to his misery in the most incoherent language ever uttered by man. +I sat beside him and vainly attempted consolation. + +“Ah, how mad I am! Ah, how contemptible! I dare not face my beautiful +cats again. I dare not see the light of the sun. I have betrayed my +trust. Accursed be the cards. I, who had my gigantic combination. It is +all gone. Beautiful lady, forgive me. Generous-hearted friend, forgive +me. I am the most miserable of God's creatures.” + +“It is an accident that might happen to any one,” I said gently. “You +were nervous. You looked at the cards, you mistook the nine for a ten, +in which case you were right to call for another card.” + +“It is not that,” he wailed. “It is the spoiling of my combination, on +which I have wasted sleepless nights. A curse on my mad folly. Do you +know who the banker was?” + +“No,” said I. + +“He was Captain Vauvenarde, the husband of Madame Brandt.” + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +You could have knocked me down with a feather. It is a trite metaphor, +I know; but it is none the less excellent. I repeat, therefore, +unblushingly--you could have knocked me down with a feather. I gasped. +The little man wiped his eyes. He was the tearfullest adult I have ever +met, and I once knew an Italian _prima donna_ with a temperament. + +“Captain Vauvenarde? The man with the shoebrush hair and the rolls of +fat at the back of his neck? Are you sure?” + +The dwarf nodded. “I set out from England to find him. I swore to the +_carissima signora_ that I would do so. I have done it,” he added, with +a faint return of his self-confidence. + +“Well, I'm damned!” said I, in my native tongue. + +I don't often use strong language; but the occasion warranted it. I +was flabbergasted, bewildered, out-raged, humiliated, delighted, +incredulous, and generally turned topsy-turvy. In conversation one has +no time for so minute an analysis of one's feelings. I therefore summed +them up in the only word. Captain Vauvenarde! The wild goose of my +absurd chase! Found by this Flibbertigibbet of a fellow, while I, Simon +de Gex, erstwhile M.P., was fooling about War Offices and regiments! It +was grotesque. It was monstrous. It ought not to have been allowed. And +yet it saved me a vast amount of trouble. + +“I'm damned!” said I. + +Anastasius had just enough English to understand. I suppose, such is +mortal unregeneracy, that it is the most widely understood word in the +universe. + +“And I,” said he, “am eternally beaten. I am trampled under foot and +shall never be able to hold up my head again.” + +Whereupon he renewed his lamentations. For some time I listened +patiently, and from his disconnected remarks I gathered that he had gone +to the Cercle Africain in view of his gigantic combinations, but that +the demon of gambling taking possession of him had almost driven them +from his mind. Eventually he had lost control of his nerves, a cloud +had spread over his brain, and he had committed the unspeakable blunder +which led to disaster. + +“To think that I should have tracked him down--for this!” he exclaimed +tragically. + +“What beats me,” I cried, “is how the deuce you managed to track him +down. Your magnificent intellect, I suppose”--I spoke gently and not in +open sarcasm--“enabled you to get on the trail.” + +He brightened at the compliment. “Yes, that was it. Listen. I came to +Algiers, the last place he was heard of. I go to the cafes. I listen +like a detective to conversation. I creep behind soldiers talking. +I find out nothing. I ask at the shops. They think I am crazy, but +Anastasius Papadopoulos has a brain larger than theirs. I go to my +old friend the secretary of the theatre, where I have exhibited the +marvellous performance of my cats. I say to him, 'When have you a date +for me?' He says, 'Next year.' I make a note of it. We talk. He knows +all Algiers. I say to him, 'What has become of Captain Vauvenarde of the +Chasseurs d'Afrique?' I say it carelessly as if the Captain were an old +friend of mine. The secretary laughs. 'Haven't you heard? The Captain +was chased from the regiment----'” + +“The deuce he was!” I interjected. + +“On account of something,” said Anastasius. “The secretary could not +tell what. Perhaps he cheated at cards. The officers said so. + +“'Where is he now?' I ask. 'Why, in Algiers. He is the most famous +gambler in the town. He is every night at the Cercle Africain, and some +people believe that it belongs to him.' My friend the secretary asks me +why I am so anxious to discover Captain Vauvenarde. I do not betray my +secret. When I do not wish to talk I close my lips, and they are sealed +like the tomb. I am the model of discretion. You, Monsieur, with the +high-bred delicacy of the English statesman, have not questioned me +about my combination. I appreciate it. But, if you had, though it broke +my heart, I should not have answered.” + +“I am not going to pry into your schemes,” I said, “but there are one +or two things I must understand. How do you know the banker was Captain +Vauvenarde?” + +“I saw him several times in Marseilles with the _carissima signora_.” + +“Then how was it he did not recognise you to-night?” + +“I was then but an acquaintance of Madame; not her intimate friend, +counsellor, champion, as I am now. I did not have the honour of being +presented to Captain Vauvenarde. I went to-night to make sure of my man, +to play the first card in my gigantic combination--but, alas! But no!” + He rose and thumped his little chest. “I feel my courage coming back. +My will is stiffening into iron. When the _carissima signora_ arrives in +Algiers she will find she has a champion!” + +“How do you know she is coming to Algiers?” I asked startled. + +“As soon as I learned that Captain Vauvenarde was here,” he replied +proudly, “I sent her a telegram. 'Husband found; come at once.' I know +she is coming, for she has not answered.” + +An idea occurred to me. “Did you sign your name and address on the +telegram?” + +He approached me confidentially as I sat, and wagged a cunning finger. + +“In matters of life and death, never give your name and address.” + +As Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos was himself again, and as I began +to sneeze--for the night was chilly--I rose and suggested that we might +adjourn this conference till the morrow. He acquiesced, saying that all +was not lost and that he still had time to mature his combinations. We +crossed the road, and I hailed a cab standing by the Cafe d'Alger. I +offered Anastasius to drive him to his hotel, but he declined politely. +We shook hands. + +“Monsieur,” said he, “I have to make my heartfelt apologies for having +caused you so painful, so useless, and so expensive an evening. As for +the last aspect I will repay you.” + +“You will do no such thing, Professor,” said I. “My evening has, on +the contrary, been particularly useful and instructive. I wouldn't have +missed it for the world.” + +And I drove off homewards, glad to be in my own company. + +Here was an imbroglio! The missing husband found and, like most +missing husbands, found to be entirely undesirable. And Lola, obviously +imagining her summons to be from me, was at that moment speeding hither +as fast as the _Marechal Bugeaud_ could carry her. If I had discovered +Captain Vauvenarde instead of Anastasius I would have anathematised +him as the most meddlesome, crazy little marplot that ever looked like +Napoleon the Third. But as the credit of the discovery belonged to him +and not to me, I could only anathematise myself for my dilettanteism in +the capacity of a private inquiry agent. + +I went to bed and slept badly. The ludicrous scenes of the evening +danced before my eyes; the smoke-filled, sordid room, the ignoble faces +round the table, the foolish hullaballoo, the collapse of Anastasius, +my melodramatic intervention, and the ironical courtesy of the fleshy +Captain Vauvenarde. Also, in the small hours of the night, Anastasius's +gigantic combinations assumed a less trivial aspect. What lunatic scheme +was being hatched behind that dome-like brow? His object in taking me to +the club was obvious. He could not have got in save under my protection. +But what he had reckoned upon doing when he got there Heaven and +Anastasius Papadopoulos only knew. I was also worried by the confounded +little pain inside. + +On the following afternoon I went down to meet the steamer from +Marseilles. I more than expected to find the dwarf on the quay, but to +my relief he was not there. I had purposely kept my knowledge of Lola's +movements a secret from him, as I desired as far as possible to conduct +affairs without his crazy intervention. I was not sorry, too, that he +had not availed himself of my proposal to visit me that morning and +continue our conversation of the night before. The grotesque as a +decoration of life is valuable; as the main feature it gets on your +nerves. + +I stood on the sloping stone jetty among the crowd of Arab porters and +Europeans and watched the vessel waddle in. Lola and I, catching sight +of each other at the same time, waved handkerchiefs in an imbecile +manner, and when the vessel came alongside, and during the tedious +process of mooring, we regarded each other with photographic smiles. She +was wearing a squirrel coat and a toque of the same fur, and she looked +more like a splendid wild animal than ever. Something inside me--not the +little pain--but what must have been my heart, throbbed suddenly at her +beauty, and the throb was followed by a sudden sense of shock at the +realisation of my keen pleasure at the sight of her. A wistful radiance +shone in her face as she came down the gangway. + +“Oh, how kind, how good, how splendid of you to meet me!” she cried as +our hands clasped. “I was dreading, dreading, dreading that it might be +some one else.” + +“And yet you came straight through,” said I, still holding her hand--or, +rather, allowing hers to encircle mine in the familiar grip. + +“Didn't you command me to do so?” + +I could not explain matters to her then and there among the hustle of +passengers and the bustle of porters. Besides, Rogers, who had come down +with the hotel omnibus, was at my side touching his hat. + +“I have ordered you a room and a private sitting-room with a balcony +facing the sea. Put yourself in charge of me and your luggage in charge +of Rogers and dismiss all thoughts of worry from your mind.” + +“You are so restful,” she laughed as we moved off. + +Then she scanned my face and said falteringly. “How thin and worn you +look! Are you worse?” + +“If you ask me such questions,” said I, “I'll leave you with the luggage +in charge of Rogers. I am in resplendent health.” + +She murmured that she wished she could believe me, and took my arm as we +walked down the jetty to the waiting cab. + +“It's good to hear your voice again,” I said. “It's a lazy voice and +fits in with the lazy South.” I pointed to the burnous-enveloped Arabs +sleeping on the parapet. “It's out of place in Cadogan Gardens.” + +She laughed her low, rippling laugh. It was music very pleasant to hear +after the somewhat shrill cachinnation of the Misses Bostock of South +Shields. I was so pleased that I gave half a franc to a pestilential +Arab shoeblack. + +“That was nice of you,” she said. + +“It was the act of an imbecile,” I retorted. “I have now rendered it +impossible for me to enter the town again. How is Dale?” + +She started. “He's well. Busy with his election. I saw him the day +before I left. I didn't tell him I was coming to Algiers. I wrote from +Paris.” + +“Telling him the reason?” + +She faced me and met my eyes and said shortly: “No.” + +“Oh!” said I. + +This brought us to the cab. We entered and drove away. Then leaning back +and looking straight in front of her, she grasped my wrist and said: + +“Now, my dear friend, tell me all and get it over.” + +“My dear Madame Brandt--” I began. + +She interrupted me. “For goodness' sake don't call me that. It makes a +cold shiver run down my back. I'm either Lola to you or nothing.” + +“Then, my dear Lola,” said I, “the first thing I must tell you is that I +did not send for you.” + +“What do you mean? The telegram?” + +“It was sent by Anastasius Papadopoulos.” + +“Anastasius?” She bent forward and looked at me. “What is he doing +here?” + +“Heaven knows!” said I. “But what he has done has been to find Captain +Vauvenarde. I am glad he has done that, but I am deeply sorry he sent +you the telegram.” + +“Sorry? Why?” + +“Because there was no reason for your coming,” I said with unwonted +gravity. “It would have been better if you had stayed in London, and it +will be best if you take the boat back again to-morrow.” + +She remained silent for a while. Then she said in a low voice: + +“He won't have me?” + +“He hasn't been asked,” I said. “He will, as far as I can command the +situation, never be asked.” + +On that I had fully determined; and, when she inquired the reason, I +told her. + +“I proposed that you should reunite yourself with an honourable though +somewhat misguided gentleman. I've had the reverse of pleasure in +meeting Captain Vauvenarde, and I regret to say, though he is still +misguided, he can scarcely be termed honourable. The term 'gentleman' +has still to be accurately defined.” + +She made a writhing movement of impatience. + +“Tell me straight out what he's doing in Algiers. You're trying to make +things easy for me. It's the way of your class. It isn't the way of +mine. I'm used to brutality. I like it better. Why did he leave the army +and why is he in Algiers?” + +“If you prefer the direct method, my dear Lola,” said I--and the name +came quite trippingly on my tongue--“I'll employ it. Your husband +has apparently been kicked out of the army and is now running a +gambling-hell.” + +She took the blow bravely; but it turned her face haggard like a +paroxysm of physical pain. After a few moments' silence, she said: + +“It must have been awful for him. He was a proud man.” + +“He is changed,” I replied gently. “Pride is too hampering a quality for +a knight of industry to keep in his equipment.” + +“Tell me how you met him,” she said. + +I rapidly sketched the whole absurd history, from my encounter with +Anastasius Papadopoulos in Marseilles to my parting with him on the +previous night. I softened down, as much as I could, the fleshiness of +Captain Vauvenarde and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck, but I +portrayed the villainous physiognomies of his associates very neatly. I +concluded by repeating my assertion that our project had proved itself +to be abortive. + +“He must be pretty miserable,” said Lola. + +“Devil a bit,” said I. + +She did not answer, but settled herself more comfortably in the carriage +and relapsed into mournful silence. I, having said my say, lit a +cigarette. Save for the clanging past of an upward or downward tram, +the creeping drive up the hill through the long winding street was very +quiet; and as we mounted higher and left the shops behind, the only +sounds that broke the afternoon stillness were the driver's raucous +admonition to his horses and the wind in the trees by the wayside. At +different points the turns of the road brought to view the panorama of +the town below and the calm sweep of the bay. + +“Exquisite, isn't it?” I said at last, with an indicative wave of the +hand. + +“What's the good of anything being exquisite when you feel mouldy?” + +“It may help to charm away the mouldiness. Beauty is eternal and +mouldiness only temporal. The sun will go on shining and the sea will go +on changing colour long after our pains and joys have vanished from the +world. Nature is pitilessly indifferent to human emotion.” + +“If so,” she said, her intuition finding the weakness of my slipshod +argument, “how can it touch human mouldiness?” + +“I don't know,” said I. “The poets will tell you. All you have to do is +to lie on the breast of the Great Mother and your heartache will go +from you. I've never tried it myself, as I've never been afflicted with +heartache.” + +“Is that true?” she asked, womanlike catching at the personal. + +I smiled and nodded. + +“I'm glad on your account,” she said sincerely. “It's the very devil of +an ache. I've always had it.” + +“Poor Lola,” said I, prompted by my acquired instinct of eumoiriety. “I +wish I could cure you.” + +“You?” She gave a short little laugh and then turned her head away. + +“I had a very comfortable crossing,” she remarked a moment later. + +I gave her into the keeping of the manager of the hotel and did not see +her again until she came down somewhat late for dinner. I met her in +the vestibule. She wore a closely fitting brown dress, which in colour +matched the bronze of her hair and in shape showed off her lithe and +generous figure. + +I thought it my duty to cheer her by a well-deserved compliment. + +“Are you aware,” I said, with a low bow, “that you're a remarkably +handsome woman?” + +A perfectly unnecessary light came into her eyes and a superfluous flush +to her cheeks. “If I'm at least that to you, I'm happy,” she said. + +“You're that to the dullest vision. Follow the _maitre d'hotel_,” + said I, as we entered the _salle a manger_, “and I'll walk behind in +reflected glory.” + +We made an effective entrance. I declare there was a perceptible rattle +of soup-spoons laid down by the retired Colonels and maiden ladies as +we passed by. Colonel Bunnion returned my nod of greeting in the most +distracted fashion and gazed at Lola with the frank admiration of +British Cavalry. I felt foolishly proud and exhilarated, and gave her at +my table the seat commanding a view of the room. I then ordered a bottle +of champagne, which I am forbidden to touch. + +“It isn't often that I have the pleasure of dining with you,” I said by +way of apology. + +“This is the very first time,” she said. + +“And it's not going to be the last,” I declared. + +“I thought you were going to ship me back to Marseilles to-morrow.” + +She laughed lazily, meeting my eyes. I smiled. + +“It would be inhuman. I allow you a few day's rest.” + +Indeed, now she was here I had a curious desire to keep her. I regarded +the failure of my eumoirous little plans with more than satisfaction. +I had done my best. I had found (through the dwarf's agency) Captain +Vauvenarde. I had satisfied myself that he was an outrageous person, +thoroughly disqualified from becoming Lola's husband, and there was +an end of the matter. Meanwhile Fate (again through the agency of +Anastasius) had brought her many hundreds of miles away from Dale and +had moreover brought her to me. I was delighted. I patted Destiny on the +back, and drank his health in excellent Pommery. Lola did not know in +the least what I meant, but she smiled amiably and drank the toast. It +was quite a merry dinner. Lola threw herself into my mood and jested as +if she had never heard of an undesirable husband who had been kicked +out of the French Army. We talked of many things. I described in fuller +detail my adventure with Anastasius and Saupiquet, and we laughed over +the debt of fifteen sous and the elaborate receipt. + +“Anastasius,” she said, “is childish in many ways--the doctors have a +name for it.” + +“Arrested development.” + +“That's it; but he is absolutely cracked on one point--the poisoning of +my horse Sultan. He has reams of paper which he calls the dossier of the +crime. You never saw such a collection of rubbish in your life. I cried +over it. And he is so proud of it, poor wee mite.” She laughed suddenly. +“I should love to have seen you hobnobbing with him and Saupiquet.” + +“Why?” + +“You're so aristocratic-looking,” she did me the embarrassing honour to +explain in her direct fashion. “You're my idea of an English duke.” + +“My dear Lola,” I replied, “you're quite wrong. The ordinary English +duke is a stout, middle-aged gentleman with a beard, and he generally +wears thick knickerbockers and shocking bad hats.” + +“Do you know any?” + +“Two or three,” I admitted. + +“And duchesses, too?” + +I again pleaded guilty. In these democratic days, if one is engaged in +public and social affairs one can't help running up against them. It is +their fault, not mine. + +“Do tell me about them,” said Lola, with her elbows on the table. + +I told her. + +“And are earls and countesses just the same?” she asked with a +disappointed air. + +“Just the same, only worse. They're so ordinary you can't pick them out +from common misters and missuses.” + +Saying this I rose, for we had finished our dessert, and proposed coffee +in the lounge. There we found Colonel Bunnion at so wilful a loose end +that I could not find it in my heart to refuse him an introduction +to Lola. He manifested his delight by lifting the skirt of his +dinner-jacket with his hands and rising on his spurs like a bantam cock. +I left her to him for a moment and went over to say a civil word to the +Misses Bostock of South Shields. I regret to say I noticed a certain +frigidity in their demeanour. The well-conducted man in South Shields +does not go out one night with a revolver tucked away in the pocket of +his dress-suit, and turn up the next evening with a striking-looking +lady with bronze hair. Such goings-on are seen on the stage in South +Shields in melodrama, and they are the goings-on of the villain. In +the eyes of the gentle ladies my reputation was gone. I was trying to +rehabilitate myself when the chasseur brought me a telegram. I asked +permission to open it, and stepped aside. + +The words of the telegram were like a ringing box on the ears. + + +“Tell me immediately why Lola has joined you in Algiers. --KYNNERSLEY.” + + +Not “Dale,” mark you, as he has signed himself ever since I knew him in +Eton collars, but “Kynnersley.” Why has Lola joined you? Why have you +run off with Lola? What's the reason of this treacherous abduction? +Account for yourself immediately. Stand and deliver. I stood there +gaping at the words like an idiot, my blood tingling at the implied +accusation. The peremptoriness of it! The impudence of the boy! The wild +extravagance of the idea! And yet, while my head was reeling with +one buffet a memory arose and gave me another on the other side. I +remembered the preposterous attitude in which Dale had found us when he +rushed from Berlin into Lola's drawing-room. + +I took the confounded telegram into a remote corner of the lounge, like +a dog with a bone, and growled over it for a time until the humour of +the situation turned the growl into a chuckle. Even had I been in sound +health and strength, the idea of running off with Lola would have been +absurd. But for me, in my present eumoirous disposition of mind; for +me, a half-disembodied spirit who had cast all vain and disturbing human +emotions into the mud of Murglebed-on-Sea; for me who had a spirit's +calm disregard for the petty passions and interests of mankind and +walked through the world with no other object than healing a few human +woes; for me who already saw death on the other side of the river and +found serious occupation in exchanging airy badinage with him; for me +with an abominable little pain inside inexorably eating my life out and +wasting me away literally and perceptibly like a shadow and twisting +me up half a dozen times a day in excruciating agony; for me, in this +delectable condition of soul and this deplorable condition of body, to +think of running hundreds of miles from home with--to say the least of +it--so inconvenient a creature as a big, bronze-haired woman, the idea +was inexpressibly and weirdly comic. + +I stepped into the drawing-room close by and drew up a telegram to Dale. + + +“Lady summoned by Papadopoulos on private affairs. Avoid lunacy save for +electioneering purposes.--SIMON.” + + +Then I joined Lola and Colonel Bunnion. She was lying back in her +laziest and most pantherine attitude, and she looked up at me as I +approached with eyes full of velvet softness. For the life of me I +could not help feeling glad that they were turned on me and not on Dale +Kynnersley. + +Almost immediately the elder Miss Bostock came up to claim the Colonel +for bridge. He rose reluctantly. + +“I suppose it's no use asking you to make a fourth, Mr. de Gex?” she +asked, after the subacid manner of her kind. + +“I'm afraid not,” I replied sweetly. Whereupon she rescued the Colonel +from the syren and left me alone with her. I lit a cigarette and sat by +her side. As she did not stir or speak I asked whether she was tired. + +“Not very. I'm thinking. Do you know you've taught me an awful lot?” + +“I? What can I have taught you?” + +“The way people like yourself look at things. I'm treating Dale +abominably. I didn't realise it before.” + +Now why on earth did she bring Dale in just at that moment. + +“Indeed?” said I. + +She nodded her head and said in her languorous voice: + +“He's over head and ears in love with me and thinks I care for him. I +don't. I don't care a brass button for him. I'm a bad influence in his +life, and the sooner I take myself out of it the better. Don't you think +so?” + +“You know my opinions,” I said. + +“If I had followed your advice at first,” she continued, “we needn't +have had all this commotion. And yet I'm not sorry.” + +“What do you propose to do?” I asked. + +“Before deciding, I shall see my husband.” + +“You shall do no such thing.” + +She smiled. “I shall.” + +I protested. Captain Vauvenarde had put himself outside the pale. He was +not fit to associate with decent women. What object could she have in +meeting him? + +“I want to judge for myself,” she replied. + +“Judge what? Surely not whether he is eligible as a husband!” + +“Yes,” she said. + +“But, my dear Lola,” I cried, “the notion is as crazy as any of +Anastasius Papadopoulos's. Of course, as soon as he learns that you're +a rich woman, he'll want to live with you, and use your money for his +gaming-hell.” + +“I am going to meet him,” she said quietly. + +“I forbid it.” + +“You're too late, dear friend. I wrote him a letter before dinner and +sent it to the Cercle Africain by special messenger. I also wrote to +Anastasius. I asked them both to see me to-morrow morning. That's why +I've been so gay this evening.” + +At the sight of my blank face she laughed, and with one of her movements +rose from her chair. I rose too. + +“Are you angry with me?” + +“I thought I had walked out of a nightmare,” I said. “I find I'm still +in it.” + +“But don't be angry with me. It was the only way.” + +“The only way to, or out of, what?” I asked, bewildered. + +“Never mind.” + +She looked at me with a singular expression in her slumbrous eyes. It +was sad, wistful, soothing, and gave me the idea of a noble woman making +a senseless sacrifice. + +“There is no earthly reason to do this on account of Dale,” I protested. + +“Dale has nothing to do with it.” + +“Then who has?” + +“Anastasius Papadopoulos,” she said with undisguised irony. + +“I beg your pardon,” I said rather stiffly, “for appearing to force your +confidence. But as I first put the idea of joining your husband into +your head and have enjoyed your confidence in the matter hitherto, I +thought I might claim certain privileges.” + +As she had done before, she laid her hands on my shoulders--we were +alone in the alcove--and looked me in the eyes. + +“Don't make me cry. I'm very near it. And I'm tired to-night, and +I'm going to have a hellish time to-morrow. And I want you to do me a +favour.” + +“What is that?” + +“When I'm seeing my husband, I'd like to know that you were within +call--in case I wanted you. One never knows what may happen. You will +come won't you, if I send for you?” + +“I'm always at your service,” I said. + +She released my shoulders and grasped my hand. + +“Good-night,” she said, abruptly, and rushed swiftly out of the room, +leaving me wondering more than I had ever wondered in my life at the +inscrutable ways of women. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +I am glad I devoted last night and the past hour this morning to +bringing up to date this trivial record, for I have a premonition that +the time is rapidly approaching when I shall no longer have the strength +of will or body to continue it. The little pain has increased in +intensity and frequency the last few days, and though I try to delude +myself into the belief that otherwise I am as strong as ever, I know in +my heart that I am daily growing weaker, daily losing vitality. I shall +soon have to call in a doctor to give me some temporary relief, and +doubtless he will put me to bed, feed me on slops, cut off alcohol, +forbid noise and excitement, and keep me in a drugged, stupefied +condition until I fall asleep, to wake up in the Garden of Prosperpine. +Death is nothing; it is the dying that is such a nuisance. It is going +through so much for so little. It is as bad as the campaign before +a parliamentary election. It offends one's sense of proportion. In a +well-regulated universe there would be no tedious process of decay, +either before or after death. You would go about your daily avocation +unconcerned and unwarned, and then at the moment appointed by an +inscrutable Providence for your dissolution--phew!--and your clothes +would remain standing for a surprised second, and then fall down in +a heap without a particle of you inside them. If we have to die, why +doesn't Providence employ this simple and sensible method? It would +save such a lot of trouble. It would be so clean, so painless, so +picturesque. It would add to the interest of our walks abroad. Fancy +a stout, important policeman vanishing from his uniform--the helmet +falling over the collar, the tunic doubling in at the belt, the knees +giving way, and the unheard, merry laughter of the disenuniformed spirit +winging its way truncheonless into the Empyrean. + +But if you think you are going to get any fun out of dying in the +present inconvenient manner, you are mistaken. Believe one who is +trying. + +I will remain on my feet, however, as long as my will holds out. In this +way I may continue to be of service to my fellow creatures, and procure +for myself a happy lot or portion. Even this morning I have been able to +feel the throb of eumoiriety. A piteous letter came from Latimer, and +a substantial cheque lies on my table ready to be posted. I wonder how +much I have left? So long as it is enough to pay my doctor's bills and +funeral expenses, what does it matter? + + + +The last line of the above was written on December 21st. It is now +January 30th, and I am still alive and able to write. I wish I weren't. +But I will set down as plainly as I can what has happened in the +interval. + +I had just written the last word, seated at my hotel window in the +sunshine, and enjoying, in spite of my uncheerful thoughts, the scents +that rose from the garden, when I heard a knock at my door. At my +invitation to enter, Anastasius Papadopoulos trotted into the room in a +great state of excitement carrying the familiar bunch of papers. He put +his hat on the floor, pitched the papers into the hat, and ran up to me. + +“My dear sir, don't get up, I implore you. And I won't sit down. I have +just seen the ever beautiful and beloved lady.” + +I turned my chair away from the table, and faced him as he stood blowing +kisses with one little hand, while the other lay on his heart. In a +flash he struck a new gesture; he folded his arms and scowled. + +“I was with her. She was opening her inmost heart to me. She knows I +am her champion. A servant came up announcing Monsieur Vauvenarde. +She dismissed me. I have come to my patron and friend, the English +statesman. Her husband is with her now.” + +I smiled. “Madame Brandt told me that she had asked for an interview.” + +“And you allow it? You allow her to contaminate her beautiful presence +with the sight of that traitor, that cheat at cards, that murderer, that +devil? Ah, but I will not have it! I am her champion. I will save her. I +will save you. I will take you both away to Egypt, and surround you with +my beautiful cats, and fan you with peacock's feathers.” + +This was sheer crackedness of brain. For the first time I feared for the +little man. When people begin to talk that way they are not allowed to +go about loose. He went on talking and the three languages he used in +his jargon got clotted to the point of unintelligibility. He spoke very +fast and, as far as I could understand, poured abuse on the head of +Captain Vauvenarde, and continued to declare himself Lola's champion +and my devoted friend. He stamped up and down the room in his tightly +buttoned frock-coat from the breastpocket of which peeped the fingers of +his yellow dogskin gloves. At last he stopped, and drawing a chair near +the window perched on it with a little hop like a child. He held out his +hand. + +“Do you believe I am your friend?” + +“I am sure of it, my dear Professor.” + +“Then I'll betray a sacred confidence. The _carissima signora_ loves +you. You didn't know it. But she loves you.” + +I stared for a moment at the dwarf as if he had been a reasonable being. +Something seemed to click inside my head, like a clogged cog-wheel +that had suddenly freed itself, and my mind went whirling away straight +through the past few weeks. I tried to smile, and I said: + +“You are quite mistaken.” + +“Oh, no,” he replied, wagging his Napoleonic head. “Anastasius +Papadopoulos is never mistaken. She told me so herself. She wept. She +put her beautiful arms round my neck and sobbed on my shoulder.” + +I found myself reproving him gently. “You should not have told me this, +my dear Professor. Such confidences are locked up in the heart of _un +galant homme_, and are not revealed even to his dearest friend.” + +But my voice sounded hollow in my own ears, and what he said for the +next few minutes I do not remember. The little man had told the truth to +me, and Lola had told the truth to him. The realisation of it paralysed +me. Why had I been such a fool as not to see it for myself? Memories of +a hundred indications came tumbling one after another into my head--the +forgotten glove, the glances, the changes of mood, the tears when she +learned of my illness, the mysterious words, the abrupt little “You?” of +yesterday. The woman was in love, deeply in love, in love with all the +fervour of her big nature. And I had stood by and wondered what she +meant by this and by that--things that would have been obvious to a +coalheaver. I thought of Dale and I felt miserably guilty, horribly +ashamed. How could I expect him to believe me when I told him that I had +not wittingly stolen her affections from him. And her affections? _Bon +Dieu_! What on earth could I do with them? What is the use of a woman's +love to a dead man? And did I want it even for the tiny remainder of +life? + +Anastasius, perceiving that I paid but scant attention to his +conversation, wriggled off his chair and stood before me with folded +arms. + +“You adore each other with a great passion,” he said. “She is my +Madonna, and you are my friend and benefactor. I will be your protection +and defence. I will never let her go away with that infamous, gambling +and murdering scoundrel. My gigantic combinations have matured. I bless +your union.” + +He lifted his little arms in benediction. The situation was cruelly +comical. For a moment I hated the mournful-visaged, posturing monkey, +and had a wild desire to throw him out of the window and have done with +him. I rose and, towering over him, was about to lecture him severely on +his impertinent interference, when the sight of his scared face made +me turn away with a laugh. What would be the use of reproaching him? He +would only sit down on the floor and weep. So I paced the room, while he +followed me with his eyes like an uncertain spaniel. + +“Look here, Professor,” said I at last. “Now that you've found Captain +Vauvenarde, brought Madame Brandt and him together, and told me that she +is in love with me, don't you think you've done enough? Don't you think +your cats need your attention? Something terrible may be happening to +them. I dreamed last night,” I added with desperate mendacity, “that +they were turned into woolly lambs.” + +“Monsieur,” said the dwarf loftily, “my duty is here. And I care not +whether my cats are turned into the angels of Paradise.” + +I groaned. “You are wasting a great deal of money over this affair,” I +urged. + +“What is money to my gigantic combinations?” + +“Tell me,” I cried with considerable impatience. “What are your +confounded combinations?” + +He began to tremble violently. “I would rather die,” said he, “than +betray my secret.” + +“It's all some silly nonsense about that wretched horse!” I exclaimed. + +He covered his ears with his hands. “Blasphemy! Blasphemy! Don't utter +it!” + +In another moment he was cowering on his knees before me. + +“You, of all men, mustn't blaspheme. You whom I love like my master. +You whom the divine lady loves. I can't bear it!” He continued to gibber +unintelligibly. + +He was stark mad. There was no question of it. For a moment I +stood irresolute. Then I lifted him to his feet and patted his head +soothingly. + +“Never mind,” said I. “I was wrong. It was a beautiful horse. There +never was such a horse in the world. If I had a picture of him I would +hang it up on the wall over my bed.” + +“Would you?” he cried joyfully. “Then I will give you one.” + +He trotted over to the bundle of papers that reposed in his hat on +the floor, searched through them, and to my dismay handed me a faded, +unmounted, and rather torn and crumpled photograph of the wonderful +horse. + +“There!” said he. + +“I could not rob you of it,” I protested. + +“It will be my joy to know that you have it--that it is hanging over +your bed. See--have you a pin? I myself will fix it for you.” + +While he was searching my table for pins the chasseur of the hotel came +with a message from Madame Brandt. Would Monsieur come at once to Madame +in her private room? + +“I'll come now,” I said. “Professor, you must excuse me.” + +“Don't mention it. I shall occupy myself in hanging the picture in the +most artistic way possible.” + +So I left him, his mind apparently concentrated on the childish task of +pinning the photograph of the ridiculous horse on my bedroom wall, +and went with the most complicated feelings downstairs and through the +corridors to Lola's apartments. + +She rose to meet me as I entered. + +“It's very kind of you to come,” she said in her fluent but Britannic +French. “May I present my husband, Monsieur Vauvenarde.” + +Monsieur Vauvenarde and I exchanged bows. I noticed at once that he wore +the Frenchman's costume when he pays a _visite de ceremonie_, frock-coat +and gloves, and that a silk hat lay on the table. I was glad that he +paid her this mark of respect. + +“I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, Monsieur,” said he, “in +circumstances somewhat different.” + +“I remember perfectly,” said I. + +“And your charming but inexperienced little friend--is he well?” + +“He is at present decorating my room with photographs of Madame's late +horse, Sultan,” said I. + +He was startled, and gave me a quick, sharp look. I did not notice it +at the time, but I remembered it later. Then he broke into an indulgent +laugh. + +“The poor animal!” He turned to Lola. “How jealous I used to be of him! +And how quickly the time flies. But give yourself the trouble of seating +yourself, Monsieur.” + +He motioned me to a chair and sat down. He was a man of polished manner +and had a pleasant voice. I guessed that in the days when he paid court +to Lola, he had been handsome in his dark Norman way, and possessed +considerable fascination. Evil living and sordid passions had coarsened +his features, produced bagginess under the eyes and a shiftiness of +glance. Idleness and an inverted habit of life were responsible for +the nascent paunch and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck. He +suggested the revivified corpse of a fine gentleman that had been +unnaturally swollen. I had disliked him at the Cercle Africain; now I +detested him heartily. The idea of Lola entering the vitiated atmosphere +of his life was inexpressibly repugnant to me. + +Contrary to her habit, Lola sat bolt upright on the stamped-velvet +suite, the palms of her hands pressing the seat on either side of her. +She caught the shade of disgust that swept over my face, and gave me a +quick glance that pleaded for toleration. Her eyes, though bright, were +sunken, like those of a woman who has not slept. + +“Monsieur,” said Vauvenarde, “my wife informs me that to your +disinterested friendship is due this most charming reconciliation.” + +“Reconciliation?” I echoed. “It was quickly effected.” + +“_Mon Dieu_,” he said. “I have always longed for the comforts of a home. +My wife has grown tired of a migratory existence. She comes to find +me. I hasten to meet her. There is nothing to keep us apart. The +reconciliation was a matter of a few seconds. I wish to express my +gratitude to you, and, therefore, I ask you to accept my most cordial +thanks.” + +“It has always been a pleasure to me,” said I very frigidly, “to place +my services at the disposal of Madame Brandt.” + +“Vauvenarde, Monsieur,” he corrected with a smile. + +“And is Madame Vauvenarde equally satisfied with the--reconciliation?” I +asked. + +“I think Monsieur Vauvenarde is somewhat premature,” said Lola, with a +trembling lip. “There were conditions--” + +“A mere question of protocol.” He waved an airy hand. + +“I don't know what that is,” said Lola. “There are conditions I must +fix, and I thought the advice of my friend, Monsieur de Gex--” + +“Precisely, my dear Lola,” he interrupted. “The principle is affirmed. +We are reconciled. I proceed logically. The first thing I do is to thank +Monsieur de Gex--you have a French name, Monsieur, and you pronounce it +English fashion, which is somewhat embarrassing--But no matter. The +next thing is the protocol. We have no possibility of calling a family +council, and therefore, I acceded with pleasure to the intervention +of Monsieur. It is kind of him to burden himself with our unimportant +affairs.” + +The irony of his tone belied the suave correctitude of his words. I +detested him more and more. More and more did I realise that the dying +eumoirist is capable of petty human passions. My vanity was being +sacrified. Here was a woman passionately in love with me proposing +to throw herself into another man's arms--it made not a scrap of +difference, in the circumstances, that the man was her husband--and into +the arms of such a man! Having known me to decline--etcetera, etcetera! +How could she face it? And why was she doing it? To save herself from +me, or me from herself? She knew perfectly well that the little pain +inside would precious soon settle that question. Why was she doing it? +I should have thought that the first glance at the puffy reprobate would +have been enough to show her the folly of her idea. However, it was +comforting to learn that she had not surrendered at once. + +“If I am to have the privilege, Monsieur,” said I, “of acting as a +family council, perhaps you may forgive my hinting at some of the +conditions that doubtless are in Madame's mind.” + +“Proceed, Monsieur,” said he. + +“I want to know where I am,” said Lola in English. “He took everything +for granted from the first.” + +“Are you willing to go back to him?” I asked also in English. + +She met my gaze steadily, and I saw a woman's needless pain at the back +of her eyes. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and said: + +“Under conditions.” + +“Monsieur,” said I in French, turning to Vauvenarde, “forgive us for +speaking our language.” + +“Perfectly,” said he, and he smiled meaningly and banteringly at us +both. + +“In the first place, Monsieur, you are aware that Madame has a little +fortune, which does not detract from the charm you have always found in +her. It was left her by her father, who, as you know, tamed lions and +directed a menagerie. I would propose that Madame appointed trustees to +administer this little fortune.” + +“There is no necessity, Monsieur,” he said. “By the law of France it is +hers to do what she likes with.” + +“Precisely,” I rejoined. “Trustees would prevent her from doing what she +liked with it. Madame has indeed a head for affairs, but she also has +a woman's heart, which sometimes interferes with a woman's head in the +most disastrous manner.” + +“Article No. 1 of the protocol. _Allez toujours_, Monsieur.” + +I went on, feeling happier. “The next article treats of a little matter +which I understand has been the cause of differences in the past between +Madame and yourself. Madame, although she has not entered the arena +for some time, has not finally abandoned it.” I smiled at the look of +surprise on Lola's face. “An artist is always an artist, Monsieur. She +is willing, however, to renounce it for ever, if you, on your side, will +make quite a small sacrifice.” + +“Name it, Monsieur.” + +“You have a little passion for baccarat----” + +“Surely, Monsieur,” said he blandly, “my wife would not expect me to +give up what is the mere recreation of every clubman.” + +“As a recreation pure and simple--she would not insist too much, +but----” I shrugged my shoulders. I flatter myself on being able to do +it with perfect French expressiveness. I caught, to my satisfaction, an +angry gleam in his eye. + +“Do you mean to say, Monsieur, that I play for more than recreation?” + +“How dare I say anything, Monsieur. But Madame is prejudiced against +the Cercle Africain. For a bachelor there is little to be said against +it--but for a married man--you seize the point?” said I. + +“_Bien_, Monsieur,” he said, swallowing his wrath. “And Article 3?” + +“Since you have left the army--would it not be better to engage in +some profession--unless your private fortune dispenses you from the +necessity.” + +He said nothing but: “Article 4?” + +“It would give Madame comfort to live out of Algiers.” + +“_Moi aussi_,” he replied rather unexpectedly. “We have the whole of +France to choose from.” + +“Would not Madame be happier if she lived out of France, also? She has +always longed for a social position.” + +“_Eh, bien_? I can give her one in France.” + +“Are you quite sure?” I asked, looking him in the eyes. + +“Monsieur,” said he, rising and giving his moustache a swashbuckler +twist upward, “what are you daring to insinuate?” + +I leaned back in my chair and fingered the waxed ends of mine. + +“Nothing, Monsieur; I ask a simple question, which you surely can have +no difficulty in answering.” + +“Your questions are the height of indiscretion,” he cried angrily. + +“In that case, before we carry this interview further, the Family +Council and Madame would do well to have a private consultation.” + +“Monsieur,” he cried, completely losing his temper. “I forbid you to use +that tone to me. You are making a mock of me. You are insulting me. I +bore with you long enough to see how much further your insolence would +dare to go. I'm not to have a hand in the administration of my wife's +money? I'm to forsake a plentiful means of livelihood? I'm to become a +commercial traveller? I'm to expatriate myself? I'm to explain, too, +the reasons why I left the army? I would not condescend. Least of all to +you.” + +“May I ask why, Monsieur?” + +“_Tonnerre de Dieu_!” He stamped his foot. “Do you take me for a fool? +Here I am--I came at my wife's request, ready to take her back as +my wife, ready to condone everything--yes, Monsieur, as a man of the +world--you think I have no eyes, no understanding--ready to take her off +your hands--” + +I leaped to my feet. + +“Monsieur!” I thundered. + +Lola gave a cry and rushed forward. I pushed her aside, and glared at +him. I was in a furious rage. We glared at each other eye to eye. I +pointed to the door. + +“_Monsieur, sortez_!” + +I went to it and flung it wide. Anastasius Papadopoulos trotted into the +room. + +His entrance was so queer, so unexpected, so anti-climatic, that for the +moment the three of us were thrown off our emotional balance. + +“I have heard all, I have heard all,” shrieked the little man. “I know +you for what you are. I am the champion of the _carissima signora_ +and the protector of the English statesman. You are a traitor and +murderer--” + +Vauvenarde lifted his hand in a threatening gesture. + +“Hold your tongue, you little abortion!” he shouted. + +But Anastasius went on screaming and flourishing his bundle of papers. + +“Ask him if he remembers the horse Sultan; ask him if he remembers the +horse Sultan!” + +Lola took him by the shoulders. + +“Anastasius, you must go away from here--to please me. It's my orders.” + +But he shook himself free, and the silk hat which he had not removed +fell off in the quick struggle. + +“Ask him if he remembers Saupiquet,” he screamed, and then banged the +door. + +A malevolent devil put a sudden idea into my head and prompted speech. + +“_Do_ you remember Saupiquet?” I asked ironically. + +“Monsieur, meddle with your own affairs and let me pass. You shall hear +from me.” + +The dwarf planted himself before the door. + +“You shall not pass till you have answered me. Do you remember +Saupiquet? Do you remember the five francs you gave to Saupiquet to let +you into Sultan's stable? Ah! Ha! Ha! You wince. You grow pale. Do you +remember the ball of poison you put down Sultan's throat?” + +Lola started forward with flaming eyes and anguished face. + +“You--you?” she gasped. “You were so ignoble as to do that?” + +“The accursed brute!” shouted Vauvenarde. “Yes, I did it. I wish I had +burned out his entrails.” + +Anastasius sprang at him like a tiger cat. I had a quick vision of the +dwarf clinging in the air against the other's bulky form, one hand at +his throat, and then of an incredibly swift flash of steel. The dwarf +dropped off and rolled backwards, revealing something black sticking out +of Vauvenarde's frock-coat--for the second I could not realise what it +was. Then Vauvenarde, with a ghastly face, reeled sideways and collapsed +in a heap on the ground. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Of what happened immediately afterwards I have but a confused memory. I +remember that Lola and I both fell on our knees beside the stabbed man, +and I remember his horrible staring eyes and open mouth. I remember +that, though she was white and shaky, she neither shrieked, went into +hysterics, nor fainted. I remember rushing down to the manager; I +remember running with him breathlessly through obscure passages of +the hotel in search of a doctor who was attending a sick member of the +staff. I remember the rush back, the doctor bending over the body, which +Lola had partially unclothed, and saying: + +“He is dead. The blade has gone straight through his heart.” + +And I have in my mind the unforgettable and awful picture of Anastasius +Papadopoulos disregarded in a corner of the room, with his absurd silk +hat on--some reflex impulse had caused him to pick it up and put it on +his head--sitting on the floor amid a welter of documents relating to +the death of the horse Sultan, one of which he was eagerly perusing. + +After this my memory is clear. It was only the first awful shock and +horror of the thing that dazed me. + +The man was dead, said the doctor. He must lie until the police arrived +and drew up the _proces-verbal_. The manager went to telephone to the +police, and while he was gone I told the doctor what had occurred. +Anastasius took no notice of us. Lola, holding her nerves under iron +control, stood bolt upright looking alternately at the doctor and +myself as we spoke. But she did not utter a word. Presently the manager +returned. The alarm had not been given in the hotel. No one knew +anything about the occurrence. Lola went into her bedroom and came back +with a sheet. The manager took it from her and threw it over the dead +man. The doctor stood by Anastasius. The end of a strip of sunlight by +the window just caught the dwarf in his corner. + +“Get up,” said the doctor. + +Anastasius, without raising his eyes from his papers, waved him away. + +“I am busy. I am engaged on important papers of identification. He had a +white star on his forehead, and his tail was over a metre long.” + +Lola approached him. + +“Anastasius,” she said gently. He looked up with a radiant smile. “Put +away those papers.” Like a child he obeyed and scrambled to his feet. +Then, seeing the unfamiliar face of the doctor for the first time, he +executed one of his politest and most elaborate bows. The doctor after +looking at him intently for a while, turned to me. + +“Mad. Utterly mad. Apparently he has no consciousness of what he has +done.” + +He lured him to the sofa and sat beside him and began to talk in a low +tone of the contents of the papers. Anastasius replied cheerfully, proud +at being noticed by the stranger. The papers referred to a precious +secret, a gigantic combination, which he had spent years in maturing. I +shivered at the sound of his voice, and turned to Lola. + +“This is no place for you. Go into your bedroom till you are wanted.” + +I held the door open for her. She put her hands up to her face and +reeled, and I thought she would have fallen; but she roused herself. + +“I don't want to break down--not yet. I shall if I'm left alone--come +and sit with me, for God's sake.” + +“Very well,” said I. + +She passed me and I followed; but at the door I turned and glanced round +the cheerful, sunny room. There, against the background of blue sky and +tree tops framed by the window, sat Anastasius Papadopoulos, swinging +his little legs and talking bombastically to the tanned and grizzled +doctor, and opposite stood the correctly attired hotel manager in +the attitude in which he habitually surveyed the lay-out of the table +d'hote, keeping watch beside the white-covered shape on the floor. I was +glad to shut the sight from my eyes. We waited silently in the bedroom, +Lola sitting on the bed and hiding her face in the pillows, and I +standing by the window and looking out at the smiling mockery of the +fair earth. An agonising spasm of pain--a _momento mori_--shot through +me and passed away. I thanked God that a few weeks would see the end of +me. I had always enjoyed the comedy of life. It had been to me a thing +of infinite jest. But this stupid, meaningless tragedy was carrying the +joke too far. My fastidiousness revolted at its vulgarity. I no longer +wished to inhabit a world where such jests were possible. . . . I had +never seen a man die before. I was surprised at the swiftness and +the ugliness of it. . . . I suddenly realised that I was smoking a +cigarette, which I was quite unconscious of having lit. I threw it away. +A minute afterwards I felt that if I did not smoke I should go crazy. So +I lit another. . . . The ghastly silliness of the murder! . . . Colonel +Bunnion's loud laugh rose from the terrace below, jarring horribly on +my ears. A long green praying mantis that had apparently mounted on the +bougainvillea against the hotel wall appeared in meditative stateliness +on the window-sill. I picked the insect up absent-mindedly, and began +to play with it. Lola's voice from the bed startled me and caused me to +drop the mantis. She spoke hoarsely. + +“Tell me--what are they going to do with him?” + +I turned round. She had raised a crushed face from the pillows, and +looked at me haggardly. I noticed a carafe of brandy and a siphon by the +bedside. I mixed her a strong dose, and, before replying, made her drink +it. + +“They'll place him under restraint, that's all. He's not responsible for +his actions.” + +“He did that once before--I told you--but without the knife--I wish I +could cry--I can't--You don't think it heartless of me--but my brain is +on fire--I shall always see it--I wish to God I had never asked him to +come--Why did I? My God, why did I?--It was my fault--I wanted to see +him--to judge for myself how much of the old Andre was left--there was +good in him once--I thought I might possibly help him--There was nothing +for me to do in the world--Without you any kind of old hell was good +enough--That's why I sent for him--When he came, after a bit, I was +afraid, and sent for you----” + +“Afraid of what?” I asked. + +“He asked me at once what money I had--Then there seemed to be no doubt +in his mind that I would join him--We spoke of you--the friend who could +advise me--He never said--what he said afterwards--I thought it kind +of him to consent to see you--I rang the bell and sent the chasseur for +you. I supposed Anastasius had gone home--I never thought of him. The +poor little man was sweet to me, just like a dog--a silent, +sympathetic dog--I spoke to him as I would to something that wouldn't +understand--all sorts of foolish things--Now and then a woman has to +empty her heart”--she shivered--her hands before her face. + +“It's my fault, it's my fault.” + +“These things are no one's fault,” I said gently. But just as I was +beginning to console her with what thumb-marked scraps of platitude I +could collect--the only philosophy after all, such is the futility of +systems, adequate to the deep issues of life--the door opened and the +manager announced that the police had arrived. + +We went through the ordeal of the _proces-verbal_. Anastasius, +confronted with his victim, had no memory of what had occurred. He +shrieked and shrank and hid his face in Lola's dress. When he was forced +to speak he declared that the dead man was not Captain Vauvenarde. +Captain Vauvenarde was at the Cercle Africain. He, himself, was seeking +him. He would take the gendarmes there, and they could arrest the +Captain for the murder of Sultan of which his papers contained +indubitable proofs. Eventually the poor little wretch was led away in +custody, proud and smiling, entirely convinced that he was leading his +captors to the arrest of Captain Vauvenarde. On the threshold he turned +and bowed to us so low that the brim of his silk hat touched the +floor. Then Lola's nerve gave way and she broke into a passion of awful +weeping. + +The _commissaire de police_ secured the long thin knife (how the dwarf +had managed to conceal it on his small person was a mystery) and the +bundle of documents, and accompanied me to my room to see whether he had +left anything there to serve as a _piece de conviction_. We found +only the crumpled picture of the horse Sultan neatly pinned against my +bedroom wall, and on the floor a ribbon tied like a garter with a little +bell opposite the bow. On it was written “Santa Bianca,” and I knew it +was the collar of the beloved cat which he must have been carrying about +him for a talisman. The _commissaire_ took this also. + + + +If you desire to know the details of the judicial proceedings connected +with the murder of Andre Marie-Joseph Vauvenarde, ex-Captain in the +Chasseurs d'Afrique, and the trial of Anastasius Papadopoulos, I must +refer you to the Algerian, Parisian, and London Press. There you will +find an eagerly picturesque account of the whole miserable affair. Now, +not only am I unable to compete with descriptive verbatim reporters +on their own ground, but also a consecutive statement, either bald or +graphic, of the tedious horrors Lola Brandt and I had to undergo, +would be foreign to the purpose of these notes, however far from their +original purpose an ironical destiny has caused them to wander. You know +nearly all that is necessary for you to know, so that when I am dead +you may not judge me too harshly. The remainder I can summarise in a few +words. At any rate, I have told the truth, often more naively than one +would have thought possible for a man who prided himself as much as I +did on his epicurean sophistication. + +These have been days, as I say, of tedious horror. There have been +endless examinations, reconstructions of the crime, exposures in daring +publicity of the private lives of the protagonists of the lunatic drama. +The French judges and advocates have accepted the account given by Lola +and myself of our mutual relations with a certain mocking credulity. The +Press hasn't accepted it at all. It took as a matter of course the +view held by the none too noble victim. At first, seeing Lola shrug her +shoulders with supreme indifference as to her own reputation, I cared +but little for these insinuations. I wrote such letters to my sisters +and to Dale as I felt sure would be believed, and let the long-eared, +gaping world go hang. Besides, I had other things to think of. Physical +pain is insistent, and I have suffered damnable torture. The pettiness +of the legal inquiry has been also a maddening irritation. Nothing has +been too minute for the attention of the French judiciary. It seemed as +though the whole of the evil gang of the Cercle Africain were called as +witnesses. They testified as to Captain Vauvenarde's part proprietorship +of the hell--as to wrong practices that occurred there--as to the crazy +conduct of both Anastasius and myself on the occasion of my insane +visit. Officers of the Chasseurs d'Afrique were compelled further to +blacken the character of the dead man--he had been a notorious plucker +of pigeons during most of his military career, and when at last he was +caught red-handed palming the king at _ecarte_, he was forced to resign +his commission. Arabs came from the slums with appalling stories. Even +the stolid Saupiquet, dragged from Toulon, gave evidence as to the +five-franc bribe and the debt of fifteen sous, and identified the horse +Sultan by the crumpled photograph. Lola and I have been racked day +after day with questions--some, indeed, prompted by the suspicion that +Vauvenarde might have met his death directly by our hand instead of that +of Anastasius. It was the Procureur-general who said: “It can be argued +that you would benefit by the decease of the defunct.” I replied that +we could not benefit in any way. My sole object was to effect a +reconciliation between husband and wife. “Will you explain why you gave +yourself that trouble?” I never have smiled so grimly as I did then. +How could I explain my precious pursuit of the eumoirous to a French +Procureur-general? How could I put before him the point of view of a +semi-disembodied spirit? I replied with lame lack of originality that +my actions proceeded from disinterested friendship. “You are a pure +altruist then?” said he. “Very pure,” said I. . . . It was only the +facts of the scabbard of the knife having been found attached to the +dwarf's person beneath his clothes, and of certain rambling menaces +occurring in his Sultan papers that saved us from the indignity of being +arrested and put into the dock. . . . + +During all this time I remained at the hotel at Mustapha Superieur. Lola +moved to a suite of rooms in another hotel a little way down the hill. I +saw her daily. At first she shrank from publicity and refused to go out, +save in a closed carriage to the town when her presence was necessary +at the inquiries. But after a time I persuaded her to brave the stare of +the curious and stroll with me among the eucalyptus woods above. We +cut ourselves off from other human companionship and felt like two lost +souls wandering alone through mist. She conducted herself with grave and +simple dignity. . . . Once or twice she visited Anastasius in prison. +She found him humanely treated and not despondent. He thought they +had arrested him for the poisoning of the horse, and laughed at their +foolishness. As they refused to return him his dossier, he occupied +himself in reconstructing it, and wrote pages and pages of incoherence +to prove the guilt of Captain Vauvenarde. He was hopelessly mad. . . . +The bond of pain bound me very close to Lola. + +“What are you going to do with your life?” I asked her one day. + +“So long as I have you as a friend, it doesn't greatly matter.” + +“You forget,” I said, “that you can't have me much longer.” + +“Are you going to leave me? It's not because I have dragged you through +all this dirt and horror. Another woman might say that of another +man--but not I of you. Why are you going to leave me? I want so +little--only to see you now and then--to keep the heart in me.” + +“Can't you realise, that what I said in London is true?” + +“No. I can't. It's unbelievable. You can't believe it yourself. If +you did, how could you go on behaving like anybody else--like me for +instance?” + +“What would you do if you were condemned to die?” + +She shuddered. “I should go mad with fear--I----” She broke off and +remained for some moments reflective, with knitted brow. Then she lifted +her head proudly. “No, I shouldn't. I should face it like you. Only +cowards are afraid. It's best to show things that you don't care a hang +for them.” + +“Keep that sublime _je m'en fich'isme_ up when I'm dead and buried,” + said I, “and you'll pull through your life all right. The only thing you +must avoid is the pursuit of eumoiriety.” + +“What on earth is that?” she asked. + +“The last devastating vanity,” said I. + +And so it is. + +“When you are gone,” she said bravely, “I shall remember how strong and +true you were. It will make me strong too.” + +I acquiesced silently in her proposition. In this age of flippancy +and scepticism, if a human soul proclaims sincerely its faith in the +divinity of a rabbit, in God's name don't disturb it. It is _something_ +whereto to refer his aspirations, his resolves; it is a court of +arbitration, at the lowest, for his spiritual disputes; and the rabbit +will be as effective an oracle as any other. For are not all religions +but the strivings of the spirit towards crystallisation at some point +outside the environment of passions and appetites which is the flesh, so +that it can work untrammelled: and are not all gods but the accidental +forms, conditioned by circumstance, which this crystallisation takes? +All gods in their anthropo-, helio-, thero-, or what-not-morphic forms +are false; but, on the other hand, all gods in their spiritual essence +are true. So I do not deprecate my prospective unique position in Lola +Brandt's hagiology. It was better for her soul that I should occupy it. +Even if I were about to live my normal life out, like any other hearty +human, marry and beget children, I doubt whether I should attempt to +shake my wife's faith in my heroical qualities. + +This was but a fragment of one among countless talks. Some were lighter +in tone, others darker, the mood of man being much like a child's +balloon which rises or falls as the strata of air are more rarefied or +more dense. Perhaps during the time of strain, the atmosphere was more +often rarefied, and our conversation had the day's depressing incidents +for its topics. We rarely spoke of the dead man. He was scarcely a +subject for panegyric, and it was useless to dwell on the memory of +his degradation. I think we only once talked of him deeply and at +any length, and that was on the day of the funeral. His brother, a +manufacturer at Clermont-Ferrand, and a widowed aunt, apparently his +only two surviving relatives, arrived in Algiers just in time to attend +the ceremony. They had seen the report of the murder in the newspapers +and had started forthwith. The brother, during an interview with Lola, +said bitter things to her, reproaching her with the man's downfall, and +cast on her the responsibility of his death. + +“He spoke,” she said, “as if I had suggested the murder and practically +put the knife into the poor crazy little fellow's hand.” + +The Vauvenardes must have been an amiable family. + +“Before I came,” she said a little while later, “I still had +some tenderness for him--a woman has for the only man that has +been--really--in her life. I wish I could feel it now. I wish I could +feel some respect even. But I can't. If I could, it would lessen the +horror that has got hold of me to my bones.” + +It was a torture to her generous soul that she could not grieve for him. +She could only shudder at the tragedy. In her heart she grieved more for +Anastasius Papadopoulos, and in so doing she was, in her feminine way, +self-accusative of callous lack of human feeling. It was my attempt to +bring her to a more rational state of mind that caused us to review the +dead man's career, and recapitulate the unpleasing incidents of the last +interview. + +Of Captain Vauvenarde, no more. He has gone whither I am going. That his +soul may rest in peace is my earnest prayer. But I do not wish to meet +him. + +Lola went tearless and strong through the horrible ordeal of +the judicial proceedings. She said I gave her courage. Perhaps, +unconsciously, I did. It was only when the end came that she broke down, +although she knew exactly what the end would be. And I, too, felt a lump +in my throat when they sentenced Anastasius Papadopoulos to the asylum, +and I saw him for the last time, the living parody of Napoleon III, +frock-coated and yellow-gloved, the precious, newly written dossier in +his hand, as he disappeared with a mournful smile from the court, +after bowing low to the judge and to us, without having understood the +significance of anything that had happened. + +In the carriage that took us home she wept and sobbed bitterly. + +“I loved him so. He was the only creature on earth that loved me. He +loved me as only a dog can love--or an angel.” + +I let her cry. What could I say or do? + + + +These have been weeks of tedious horror and pain. With the exception of +Colonel Bunnion, I have kept myself aloof from my fellow creatures +in the hotel, even taking my meals in my own rooms, not wishing to be +stared at as the hero of the scandal that convulsed the place. And with +regard to Colonel Bunnion shall I be accused of cynicism if I say that +I admitted him--not to my confidence--but to my company, because I know +that it delighted the honest but boring fellow to prove to himself that +he could rise above British prejudice and exhibit tact in dealing with +a man in a delicate position? For, mark you, all the world--even those +nearest and dearest to me as I soon discovered--believed that the wife +of the man who was murdered before my eyes was my mistress. Colonel +Bunnion was kind, and he meant to be kind. He was a gentleman for all +his wearisomeness, and his kindness was such as I could accept. But I +know what I say about him is true. Ye gods! Haven't I felt myself the +same swelling pride in my broadmindedness? When a man is going on my +journey he does not palter with truth. + +Though I held myself aloof, as I say, from practically all my fellow +creatures here, I have not been cut off from the outside world. My +sisters, like this French court in Algiers, have accepted my statement +with polite incredulity. Their letters have been full of love, +half-veiled reproach, anxiety as to their social position, and an insane +desire to come and take care of me. This I have forbidden them to do. +The pain they would have inflicted on themselves, dear souls, would have +far outweighed the comfort I might have gained from their ministrations. +Then I have had piteous letters from Dale. + +“. . . Your telegram reassured me, though I was puzzled. Now I get a +letter from Lola, telling me it's all off--that she never loved me--that +she valued my youth and my friendship, but that it is best for us not to +meet again. What is the meaning of it, Simon? For Heaven's sake tell me. +I can't think of anything else. I can't sleep. I am going off my +head. . . .” + +Again. “. . . This awful newspaper report and your letter of +explanation--I have them side by side. Forgive me, Simon. I don't know +what to believe, where to turn. . . . I have looked up to you as the +best and straightest man I know. You must be. Yet why have you done +this? Why didn't you tell me she was married? Why didn't she tell me? I +can't write properly, my head is all on a buzz. The beastly papers say +you were living with her in Algiers--but you weren't, were you? It would +be too horrible. In fact, you say you weren't. But, all the same, +you have stolen her from me. It wasn't like you. . . . And this awful +murder. My God! you don't know what it all means to me. It's breaking my +heart. . . .” + +And Lady Kynnersley wrote--with what object I scarcely know. The +situation was far beyond the poor lady's by-laws and regulations for the +upbringing of families and the conduct of life. The elemental mother +in her battled on the side of her only son--foolishly, irrationally, +unkindly. Her exordium was as correct as could be. The tragedy shocked +her, the scandal grieved her, the innuendoes of the Press she refused to +believe; she sympathised with me deeply. But then she turned from me +to Dale, and feminine unreason took possession of her pen. She bitterly +reproached herself for having spoken to me of Madame Brandt. Had she +known how passionate and real was this attachment, she would never have +interfered. The boy was broken-hearted. He accused me of having +stolen her from him--his own words. He took little interest in his +electioneering campaign, spoke badly, unconvincingly; spent hours in +alternate fits of listlessness and anger. She feared for her darling's +health and reason. She made an appeal to me who professed to love +him--if it were honourably possible, would I bring Madame Brandt back to +him? She was willing now to accept Dale's estimate of her worth. Could +I, at the least, prevail on Madame Brandt to give him some hope--of what +she did not know--but some hope that would save him from ruining his +career and “doing something desperate”? + +And another letter from Dale: + +“. . . I can't work at this election. For God's sake, give her back to +me. Then I won't care. What is Parliament to me without her? And the +election is as good as lost already. The other side has made as much as +possible of the scandal. . . .” + +The only letters that have not been misery to read have come from +Eleanor Faversham. There was one passage which made me thank God that He +had created such women as Eleanor-- + +“Don't fret over the newspaper lies, dear. Those who love you--and why +shouldn't I love you still?--know the honourable gentleman that you are. +Write to me if it would ease your heart and tell me just what you feel +you can. Now and always you have my utter sympathy and understanding.” + +And this is the woman of whose thousand virtues I dared to speak in +flippant jest. + +Heaven forgive me. + +After receiving Lady Kynnersley's appeal, I went to Lola. It was just +before the case came on at the Cour d'Assises. She had finished luncheon +in her private room and was sitting over her coffee. I joined her. She +wore the black blouse and skirt with which I have not yet been able +to grow familiar, as it robbed her of the peculiar fascinating quality +which I have tried to suggest by the word pantherine. Coffee over, we +moved to the window which opened on a little back garden--the room was +on the ground floor--in which grew prickly pear and mimosa, and newly +flowering heliotrope. I don't know why I should mention this, except +that some scenes impress themselves, for no particular reason, on the +memory, while others associated with more important incidents fade into +vagueness. I picked a bunch of heliotrope which she pinned at her bosom. + +“Lola,” I said, “I want to speak to you seriously.” + +She smiled wanly: “Do we ever speak otherwise these dreadful days?” + +“It's about Dale. Read this,” said I, and I handed her Lady Kynnersley's +letter. She read it through and returned it to me. + +“Well?” + +“I asked you a week or two ago what you were going to do with your +life,” I said. “Does that letter offer you any suggestion?” + +“I'm to give him some hope--what hope can I give him?” + +“You're a free woman--free to marry. For the boy's sake the mother will +consent. When she knows you as well as we know you she will--” + +“She will--what? Love me?” + +“She's a woman not given to loving--except, in unexpected bursts, her +offspring. But she will respect you.” + +She stood for a few moments silent, her arm resting against the window +jamb and her head on her arm. She remained there so long that at last I +rose and, looking at her face, saw that her eyes were full of tears. She +dashed them away with the back of her hand, gave me a swift look, and +went and sat in the shadow of the room. An action of this kind on the +part of a woman signifies a desire for solitude. I lit a cigarette and +went into the garden. + +It was a sorry business. I saw as clearly as Lola that Lady Kynnersley +desired to purchase Dale's immediate happiness at any price, and that +the future might bring bitter repentance. But I offered no advice. +I have finished playing at Deputy Providence. A madman letting off +fireworks in a gunpowder factory plays a less dangerous game. + +Presently she joined me and ran her arm through mine. + +“I'll write to Dale this afternoon,” she said. “Don't let us talk of it +any more now. You are tired out. It's time for you to go and lie down. +I'll walk with you up the hill.” + +It has come to this, that I must lie down for some hours during the day +lest I should fall to pieces. + +“I suppose I'll have to,” I laughed. “What a thing it is to have the +wits of a man and the strength of a baby.” + +She pressed my arm and said in her low caressing voice which I had not +heard for many weeks: “I shouldn't be so proud of those man's wits, if I +were you.” + +I knew she said it playfully with reference to masculine non-perception +of the feminine; but I chose to take it broadly. + +“My dear Lola,” said I, “it has been borne in upon me that I am the most +witless fool that the unwisdom of generations of English country squires +has ever succeeded in producing.” + +“Don't talk rot,” she said, with foolishness in her eyes. + +She accompanied me bareheaded in the sunshine to the gate of my hotel. + +“Come and dine with me, if you're well enough,” she said as we parted. + +I assented, and when the evening came I went. Did I not say that we were +like two lost souls wandering alone in the mist? + +It was only when I rose to bid her good-night that she referred to Dale. + +“I wrote to him this afternoon,” she announced curtly. + +“You said you would do so.” + +“Would you like to know what I told him?” + +She put her hands behind her back and stood facing me, somewhat +defiantly, in all her magnificence. I smiled. Women, much as they scoff +at the blindness of our sex, are often transparent. + +“It's your firm determination to tell me,” said I. “Well?” + +She advanced a step nearer to me, and looked me straight in the eyes +defiantly. + +“I told him that I loved you with all my heart and all my soul. I told +him that you didn't know it; that you didn't care a brass curse for me; +that you had acted as you thought best for the happiness of himself and +me. I told him that while you lived I could not think of another man. +I told him that if you could face Death with a smile on your face, he +might very well show the same courage and not chuck things right and +left just because a common woman wouldn't marry him or live with him and +spoil his career. There! That's what I told him. What do you think?” + +“Heaven knows what effect it will have,” said I, wearily, for I was +very, very tired. “But why, my poor Lola, have you wasted your love on a +shadow like me?” + +She answered after the foolish way of women. + + + +I have not heard from either Dale or Lady Kynnersley. A day or two ago, +in reply to a telegram to Raggles, I learned that Dale had lost the +election. + +This, then, is the end of my _apologia pro vita mea_, which I began with +so resonant a flourish of vainglory. I have said all that there is to be +said. Nothing more has happened or is likely to happen until they put me +under the earth. Oh, yes, I was forgetting. In spite of my Monte Cristo +munificence, poor Latimer has been hammered on the Stock Exchange. Poor +Lucy and the kids! + +I shall have, I think, just enough strength left to reach Mentone--this +place is intolerable now--and there I shall put myself under the care of +a capable physician who, with his abominable drugs, will doubtless begin +the cheerful work of inducing the mental decay which I suppose must +precede physical dissolution. + +I must confess that I am disappointed with the manner of my exit. I had +imagined it quite different. I had beheld myself turning with a smile +and a jest for one last view of the faces over which I, in my eumoirous +career, had cast the largesse of happiness, and the vanishing with a +gallant carelessness through the dusky portals. Instead of that, here +am I sneaking out of life by the back door, covering my eyes for very +shame. And glad? Oh, God, how glad I am to slink out of it! + +I have indeed accomplished the thing which I set out to do. I have +severed a boy from the object of his passion. What an achievement +for the crowning glory of a lifetime! And at what a cost: one +fellow-creature's life and another's reason. On me lies the +responsibility. Vauvenarde, it is true, did not adorn this grey world, +but he drew the breath of life, and, through my jesting agency, it +was cut off. Anastasius Papadopoulos, had he not come under my malign +influence would have lived out his industrious, happy and dream-filled +days. Lesser, but still great price, too, has been paid. Jealous hatred, +misery and failure for the being I care most for in the world, the shame +of a sordid scandal to those that hold me dear, the hopeless love and +speedy mourning of a woman not without greatness. + +I have tried to make a Tom Fool of Destiny--and Destiny has proved +itself to be the superior jester of the two, and has made a grim and +bedraggled Tom Fool of me. + +. . . I must end this. I have just fallen in a faint on the floor, and +Rogers has revived me with some drops Hunnington had given me in view of +such a contingency. + +These are the last words I shall write. Life is too transcendentally +humorous for a man not to take it seriously. Compared with it, Death is +but a shallow jest. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +It is many weeks since I wrote those words which I thought were to be +my last. I read them over now, and laugh aloud. Life is more devilishly +humorous than I in my most nightmare dreams ever imagined. Instead of +dying at Mentone as I proposed, I am here, at Mustapha Superieur, still +living. And let me tell you the master joke of the Arch-Jester. + +I am going to live. + +I am not going to die. I am going to live. I am quite well. + +Think of it. Is it farcical, comical, tragical, or what? + +This is how it has befallen. The last thing I remember of the +old conditions was Rogers packing my things, and a sudden, awful, +excruciating agony. I lost consciousness, remained for days in a +bemused, stupefied state, which I felt convinced was death, and found +particularly pleasant. At last I woke to a sense of bodily constriction +and discomfort, and to the queer realisation that what I had taken for +the Garden of Prosperpine was my own bedroom, and that the pale lady +whom I had so confidently assumed was she who, crowned with calm leaves, +“gathers all things mortal with cold, immortal hands” was no other than +a blue-and-white-vested hospital nurse. + +“What the----” I began. + +“Chut!” she said, flitting noiselessly to my side. “You mustn't talk.” + And then she poured something down my throat. I lay back, wondering +what it all meant. Presently a grizzled and tanned man, wearing a narrow +black tie, came into the room. His face seemed oddly familiar. The nurse +whispered to him. He came up to the bed, and asked me in French how I +felt. + +“I don't know at all,” said I. + +He laughed. “That's a good sign. Let me see how you are getting on.” + He stuck a thermometer in my mouth and held my pulse. These formalities +completed, he turned up the bedclothes and did something with my body. +Only then did I realise that I was tightly bandaged. My impressions grew +clearer, and when he raised his face I recognised the doctor who had sat +on the sofa with Anastasius Papadopoulos. + +“Nothing could be better,” said he. “Keep quiet, and all will be well.” + +“Will you kindly explain?” I asked. + +“You've had an operation. Also a narrow escape.” + +I smiled at him pityingly. “What is the good of taking all this trouble? +Why are you wasting your time?” + +He looked at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then he laughed as +the light came to him. + +“Oh, I understand! Yes. Your English doctors had told you you were going +to die. That an operation would be fatal--so your good friend +Madame Brandt informed us--but we--_nous autres Francais_--are more +enterprising. Kill or cure. We performed the operation--we didn't kill +you--and here you are--cured.” + +My heart sickened with a horrible foreboding. A clamminess, such as +others feel at the approach of death, spread over my brow and neck. + +“Good God!” I cried, “you are not trying to tell me that I'm going to +live?” + +“Why, of course I am!” he exclaimed, brutally delighted. “If nothing +else kills you, you'll live to be a hundred.” + +“Oh, damn!” said I. “Oh, damn! Oh, damn!” and the tears of physical +weakness poured down my cheeks. + +“_Ce sont des droles de gens, les Anglais_!” I heard him whisper to the +nurse before he left the room. + +Belonging to a queer folk or not, I found the prospect more and more +dismally appalling according as my mind regained its clarity. It was the +most overwhelming, piteous disappointment I have ever experienced in my +life. I cursed in my whimpering, invalid fashion. + +“But don't you want to get well?” asked the wide-eyed nurse. + +“Certainly not! I thought I was dead, and I was very happy. I've been +tricked and cheated and fooled,” and I dashed my fist against the +counterpane. + +“If you go on in this way,” said the nurse, “you will commit suicide.” + +“I don't care!” I cried--and then, they tell me, fainted. My temperature +also ran up, and I became lightheaded again. It was not until the next +day that I recovered my sanity. This time Lola was in the room with the +nurse, and after a while the latter left us together. Even Lola could +not understand my paralysing dismay. + +“But think of it, my dear friend,” she argued, “just think of it. You +are saved--saved by a miracle. The doctor says you will be stronger than +you have ever been before.” + +“All the more dreadful will it be,” said I. “I had finished with life. +I had got through with it. I don't want a second lifetime. One is quite +enough for any sane human being. Why on earth couldn't they have let me +die?” + +Lola passed her cool hand over my forehead. + +“You mustn't talk like that--Simon,” she said, in her deepest and most +caressing voice, using my name somewhat hesitatingly, for the first +time. “You mustn't. A miracle really has been performed. You've been +raised from the dead--like the man in the Gospel----” + +“Yes,” said I petulantly, “Lazarus. And does the Gospel tell us what +Lazarus really thought of the unwarrantable interference with his plans? +Of course he had to be polite--” + +“Oh, don't!” cried, Lola, shocked. In a queer unenlightened way, she was +a religious woman. + +“I'm sorry,” said I, feeling ashamed of myself. + +“If you knew how I have prayed God to make you well,” she said. “If I +could have died for you, I would--gladly--gladly----” + +“But I wanted to die, my dear Lola,” I insisted, with the egotism of +the sick. “I object to this resuscitation. I say it is monstrous that +I should have to start a second lifetime at my age. It's all very +well when you begin at the age of half a minute--but when you begin at +eight-and-thirty years----” + +“You have all the wisdom of eight-and-thirty years to start with.” + +“There is only one thing more disastrous to a man than the wisdom of +thirty-eight years,” I declared with mulish inconvincibility, “and that +is the wisdom he may accumulate after that age.” + +She sighed and abandoned the argument. “We are going to make you well in +spite of yourself,” she said. + +They, namely, the doctor, the nurse, and Lola, have done their best, and +they have succeeded. But their task has been a hard one. The patient's +will to live is always a great factor in his recovery. My disgust at +having to live has impeded my convalescence, and I fully believe that +it is only Lola's tears and the doctor's frenzied appeals to me not +to destroy the one chance of his life of establishing a brilliant +professional reputation that have made me consent to face existence +again. + +As for the doctor, he was pathetically insistent. + +“But you must get well!” he gesticulated. “I am going to publish it, +your operation. It will make my fortune. I shall at last be able to +leave this hole of an Algiers and go to Paris! You don't know what I've +done for you! I've performed an operation on you that has never been +performed successfully before. I thought it had been done, but I found +out afterwards my English _confreres_ were right. It hasn't. I've worked +a miracle in surgery, and by my publication will make you as the +subject of it famous for ever. And here you are trying to die and ruin +everything. I ask you--have you no human feelings left?” + +At the conclusion of these lectures I would sigh and laugh, and stretch +out a thin hand. He shook it always with a humorous grumpiness which did +me more good than the prospect of acquiring fame in the annals of the +_Ecole de Medicine_. + +Here am I, however, cured. I have thrown away the stick with which I +first began to limp about the garden, and I discourage Lola and Rogers +in their efforts to treat me as an invalid. Like the doctor, I have +been longing to escape from “this hole of an Algiers” and its painful +associations, and, when I was able to leave my room, it occurred to me +that the sooner I regained my strength the sooner should I be able to do +so. Since then my recovery has been rapid. The doctor is delighted, and +slaps me on the back, and points me out to Lola and the manager and the +concierge and the hoary old sinner of an Arab who displays his daggers, +and trays, and embroideries on the terrace, as a living wonder. I +believe he would like to put me in a cage and carry me about with him in +Paris on exhibition. But he is reluctantly prepared to part with me, and +has consented to my return in a few days' time, to England, by the North +German Lloyd steamer. He has ordered the sea voyage as a finishing +touch to my cure. Good, deluded man, he thinks that it is his fortuitous +science that has dragged me out of the Valley of the Shadow and set me +in the Garden of Life. Good, deluded man! He does not realise that he +has been merely the tool of the Arch-Jester. He has no notion of the +sardonic joke his knife was chosen to perpetrate. That naked we should +come into the world, and naked we should go out is a time-honoured +pleasantry which, as far as the latter part of it is concerned, I did +my conscientious best to further; but that we should come into it again +naked at the age of eight-and-thirty is a piece of irony too grim for +contemplation. Yet am I bound to contemplate it. It grins me in the +face. Figuratively, I am naked. + +Partly by my own act, and partly with the help of Destiny (the greater +jester than I) I have stripped myself of all these garments of life +which not only enabled me to strut peacock-fashion in the pleasant +places of the world, but also sheltered me from its inclemencies. + +I had wealth--not a Rothschild or Vanderbilt fortune but enough to +assure me ease and luxury. I have stripped myself of it. I have but a +beggarly sum remaining at my bankers. Practically I am a pauper. + +I had political position. I surrendered it as airily as I had achieved +it; so airily, indeed, that I doubt whether I could regain it even had +I the ambition. For it was a game that I played, sometimes fascinating, +sometimes repugnant to my fastidious sense of honourable dealing, for +which I shall never recapture the mood. Mood depends on conditions, and +conditions, as I am trying to show, are changed. + +I had social position. I did not deceive myself as to its value in the +cosmic scheme, but it was one of the pleasant things to which I was +born, just as I was born to good food and wines and unpatched boots and +the morning hot water brought into my bedroom. I liked it. I suspect +that it has fled into eternity with the spirit of Captain Vauvenarde. +The penniless hero of an amazing scandal is not usually made an idol of +by the exclusive aristocracy of Great Britain. + +I had a sweet and loyal woman about to marry me. I put Eleanor Faversham +for ever out of my life. + +I had the devotion and hero-worship of a lad whom I thought to train in +the paths of honour, love and happiness. In his eyes I suppose I am an +unconscionable villain. + +I have stripped myself of everything; and all because the medical +faculty of my country sentenced me to death. I really think the Royal +Colleges of Surgeons and Physicians ought to pay me an indemnity. + +And not only have I stripped myself of everything, but I have incurred +an incalculable debt. I owe a woman the infinite debt of her love which +I cannot repay. She sheds it on me hourly with a lavishness which scares +me. But for her tireless devotion, the doctor tells me, I should not +have lived. But for her selfish forbearance, sympathy, and compassion I +should have gone as crazy as Anastasius Papadopoulos. Yet the burden of +my debt lies iceberg cold on my heart. Now that we are as intimate +as man and woman who are still only friends can be, she has lost the +magnetic attraction, that subtle mystery of the woman--half goddess, +half panther--which fascinated me in spite of myself, and made +me jealous of poor young Dale. Now that I can see things in some +perspective, I confess that, had I not been under sentence of death, +and, therefore, profoundly convinced that I was immune from all such +weaknesses of the flesh, I should have realised the temptation of +languorous voice and sinuous limbs, of the frank radiation of the +animal enchanted as it was by elusive gleams of the spiritual, of the +Laisdom--in a word, of all the sexual damnability of a woman which, as +Francois Villon points out, set Sardanapalus to spin among the women, +David to forget the fear of God, Herod to slay the Baptist, and made +Samson lose his sight. Whether I should have yielded to or resisted the +temptation is another matter. Honestly speaking, I think I should have +resisted. + +You see, I should still have been engaged to Eleanor Faversham. . . . +But now this somewhat unholy influence is gone from her. She has lifted +me in her strong arms as a mother would lift a brat of ten. She has +patiently suffered my whimsies as if I had been a sick girl. She has +become to me the mere great mothering creature on whom I have depended +for custard and the removal of crumbs and creases from under my body, +and for support to my tottering footsteps. The glamour has gone from +before my eyes. I no longer see her invested in her queer +splendour. . . . + +My invalid peevishness, too, has accentuated my sensitiveness to shades +of refinement. There is about Lola a bluffness, a hardihood of speech, +a contempt for the polite word and the pretty conventional turning of +a phrase, a lack of reticence in the expression of ideas and feelings, +which jar, in spite of my gratitude, on my unstrung nerves. Her +ignorance, too, of a thousand things, a knowledge of which is the +birthright of such women as Eleanor Faversham, causes conversational +excursions to end in innumerable blind alleys. I know that she would +give her soul to learn. This she has told me in so many words, and when, +in a delicate way, I try to teach her, she listens humbly, pathetically, +fixing me with her great, gold-flecked eyes, behind which a deep sadness +burns wistfully. Sometimes when I glance up from my book, I see that her +eyes, instead of being bent on hers have been resting long on my face, +and they say as clearly as articulate speech: “Teach me, love me, use +me, do what you will with me. I am yours, your chattel, your thing, till +the end of time.” + +I lie awake at night and wonder what I shall do with my naked life +sheltered only by the garment of this woman's love, which I have +accepted and cannot repay. I groan aloud when I reflect on the +irremediable mess, hash, bungle I have made of things. Did ever sick man +wake up to such a hopeless welter? Can you be surprised that I regarded +it with dismay? Of course, there is a simple way out of it, and into +the shadowy world which I contemplated so long, at first with mocking +indifference and then with eager longing. A gentleman called Cato once +took it, with considerable aplomb. The means are to my hand. In my +drawer lies the revolver with which the excellent Colonel Bunnion (long +since departed from Mustapha Superieur) armed me against the banditti of +Algiers, and which I forgot to return to him. I could empty one or more +of the six chambers into my person and that would be the end. But I +don't think history records the suicide of any humorist, however dismal. +He knows too well the tricks of the Arch-Jester's game. Very likely I +should merely blow away half my head, and Destiny would give my good +doctor another chance of achieving immortal fame by glueing it on again. +No, I cannot think seriously of suicide by violent means. Of course, I +might follow the example of one Antonios Polemon, a later Greek sophist, +who suffered so dreadfully from gout that he buried himself alive in the +tomb of his ancestors and starved to death. We have a family vault in +Highgate Cemetery, of which I possess the key. . . . No, I should be +bored and cold, and the coffins would get on my nerves; and besides, +there is something suggestive of smug villadom in the idea of going to +die at Highgate. + +Lola came up as I was scribbling this on my knees in the garden. + +“What are you writing there?” + +“I am recasting Hamlet's soliloquy,” I replied, “and I feel all the +better for it.” + +“Here is your egg and brandy.” + +I swallowed it and handed her back the glass. + +“I feel all the better for that, too.” + +As I sat in the shade of the little stone summer-house within the Greek +portico, she lingered in the blazing sunshine, a figure all glorious +health and supple curves, and the stray brown hairs above the brown mass +gleamed with the gold of a Giotto aureole. She stood, a duskily glowing, +radiant emblem of life against the background of spring greenery and +rioting convolvulus. I drew a full breath and looked at her as +if magnetised. I had the very oddest sensation. She seemed, in +Shakespearean phrase, to rain influence upon me. As if she read the +stirrings of my blood, she smiled and said: + +“After all, confess, isn't it good to be alive?” + +A thrill of physical well-being swept through me. I leaped to my feet. + +“You witch!” I cried. “What are you doing to me?” + +“I?” She retreated a step, with a laugh. + +“Yes, you. You are casting a spell on me, so that I may eat my words.” + +“I don't know what you are talking about, but you haven't answered my +question. It _is_ good to be alive.” + +“Well, it is,” I assented, losing all sense of consistency. + +She flourished the egg-and-brandy glass. “I'm so glad. Now I know you +are really well, and will face life as you faced death, like the brave +man that you are.” + +I cried to her to hold. I had not intended to go as far as that. I +confronted death with a smile; I meet life with the wriest of wry faces. +She would have none of my arguments. + +“No matter how damnable it is--it's splendid to be alive, just to feel +that you can fight, just to feel that you don't care a damn for any old +thing that can happen, because you're strong and brave. I do want you +to get back all that you've lost, all that you've lost through me, and +you'll do it. I know that you'll do it. You'll just go out and smash up +the silly old world and bring it to your feet. You will, Simon, won't +you? I know you will.” + +She quivered like an optimistic Cassandra. + +“My dear Lola,” said I. + +I was touched. I took her hand and raised it to my lips, whereat she +flushed like a girl. + +“Did you come here to tell me all this?” + +“No,” she replied simply. “It came all of a sudden, as I was standing +here. I've often wanted to say it. I'm glad I have.” + +She threw back her head and regarded me a moment with a strange, proud +smile; then turned and walked slowly away, her head brushing the long +scarlet clusters of the pepper trees. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The other day, while looking through a limbo of a drawer wherein have +been cast from time to time a medley of maimed, half-soiled, abortive +things, too unfitted for the paradise of publication, and too good (so +my vanity will have it) for the damnation of the waste-paper basket, +I came across, at the very bottom, the manuscript of the preceding +autobiographical narrative, the last words of which I wrote at Mustapha +Superieur three years ago. At first I carried it about with me, not +caring to destroy it and not knowing what in the world to do with it +until, with the malice of inanimate things, the dirty dog's-eared bundle +took to haunting me, turning up continually in inconvenient places and +ever insistently demanding a new depository. At last I began to look +on it with loathing; and one day in a fit of inspiration, creating the +limbo aforesaid, I hurled the manuscript, as I thought, into everlasting +oblivion. I had no desire to carry on the record of my life any further, +and there, in limbo, it has remained for three years. But the other day +I took it out for reference; and now as I am holiday-making in a certain +little backwater of the world, where it is raining in a most unholiday +fashion, it occurs to me that, as everything has happened to me which is +likely to happen (Heaven knows I want no more excursions and alarums +in my life's drama), I may as well bring the narrative up to date. I +therefore take up the thread, so far as I can, from where I left off. + +Lola, having nothing to do in Algiers, which had grown hateful to us +both, accompanied me to London. As, however, the weather was rough, and +she was a very bad sailor, I saw little of her on the voyage. For my own +part, I enjoyed the stormy days, the howling winds and the infuriated +waves dashing impotently over the steamer. They filled me with a sense +of conflict and of amusement. It is always good to see man triumphing +over the murderous forces of nature. It puts one in conceit with one's +kind. + +At Waterloo I handed Lola over to her maid, who had come to meet her, +and, leaving Rogers in charge of my luggage, I drove homeward in a cab. + +It was only as I was crossing Waterloo Bridge and saw the dark mass of +the Houses of Parliament looming on the other side of the river, and the +light in the tower which showed that the House was sitting, that I +began to realise my situation. As exiles in desert lands yearn for green +fields, so yearned I for those green benches. In vain I represented to +myself how often I had yawned on them, how often I had cursed my folly +in sitting on them and listening to empty babble when I might have been +dining cosily, or talking to a pretty woman or listening to a comic +opera, or performing some other useful and soul-satisfying action of +the kind; in vain I told myself what a monument of futility was that +building; I longed to be in it and of it once again. And when I realised +that I yearned for the impossible, my heart was like a stone. For, +indeed, I, Simon de Gex, with London once a toy to my hand, was coming +into it now a penniless adventurer to seek my fortune. + +The cab turned into the Strand, which greeted me as affably as a +pandemonium. Motor omnibuses whizzed at me, cabs rattled and jeered +at me, private motors and carriages passed me by in sleek contempt; +policemen regarded me scornfully as, with uplifted hand regulating +the traffic, they held me up; pavements full of people surged along +ostentatiously showing that they did not care a brass farthing for +me; the thousands of lights with their million reflections, from shop +fronts, restaurants, theatres, and illuminated signs glared pitilessly +at me. A harsh roar of derision filled the air, like the bass to the +treble of the newsboys who yelled in my face. I was wearing a fur-lined +coat--just the thing a penniless adventurer would wear. I had a valet +attending to my luggage--just the sort of thing a penniless adventurer +would have. I was driving to the Albany--just the sort of place where a +penniless adventurer would live. And London knew all this--and scoffed +at me in stony heartlessness. The only object that gave me the slightest +sympathy was Nelson on top of his column. He seemed to say, “After all, +you _can't_ feel such a fool and so much out in the cold as I do up +here.” + +At Piccadilly Circus I found the same atmosphere of hostility. My cab +was blocked in the theatre-going tide, and in neighbouring vehicles +I had glimpses of fair faces above soft wraps and the profiles of +moustached young men in white ties. They assumed an aggravating air of +ownership of the blazing thoroughfare, the only gay and joyous spot +in London. I, too, had owned it once, but now I felt an alien; and the +whole spirit of Piccadilly Circus rammed the sentiment home--I was an +alien and an undesirable alien. I felt even more lost and friendless as +I entered the long, cold arcade (known as the Ropewalk) of the Albany. + +I found my sister Agatha waiting for me in the library. I had +telegraphed to her from Southampton. She was expensively dressed in grey +silk, and wore the family diamonds. We exchanged the family kiss and the +usual incoherent greetings of our race. She expressed her delight at my +restoration to health and gave me satisfactory tidings of Tom Durrell, +her husband, of the children, and of our sister Jane. Then she shook her +head at me, and made me feel like a naughty little boy. This I resented. +Being the head of the family, I had always encouraged the deferential +attitude which my sisters, dear right-minded things, had naturally +assumed from babyhood. + +“Oh, Simon, what a time you've given us!” + +She had never spoken to me like this in her life. + +“That's nothing, my dear Agatha,” said I just a bit tartly, “to the +time I've given myself. I'm sorry for you, but I think you ought to be a +little sorry for me.” + +“I am. More sorry than I can say. Oh, Simon, how could you?” + +“How could I what?” I cried, unwontedly regardless of the refinements of +language. + +“Mix yourself up in this dreadful affair?” + +“My dear girl,” said I, “if you had got mixed up in a railway collision, +I shouldn't ask you how you managed to do it. I should be sorry for you +and feel your arms and legs and inquire whether you had sustained any +internal injuries.” + +She is a pretty, spare woman with a bird-like face and soft brown hair +just turning grey; and as good-hearted a little creature as ever adored +five healthy children and an elderly baronet with disastrous views on +scientific farming. + +“Dear old boy,” she said in milder accents, “I didn't mean to be +unkind. I want to be good to you and help you, so much so that I asked +Bingley”--Bingley is my housekeeper--“whether I could stay to dinner.” + +“That's good of you--but this magnificence----?” + +“I'm going on later to the Foreign Office reception.” + +“Then you do still mingle with the great and gorgeous?” I said. + +“What do you mean? Why shouldn't I?” + +I laughed, suspecting rightly that my sisters' social position had not +been greatly imperilled by the profligacy of their scandal-bespattered +brother. + +“What are people saying about me?” I asked suddenly. + +She made a helpless gesture. “Can't you guess? You have told us the +facts, and, of course, we believe you; we have done our best to spread +abroad the correct version--but you know what people are. If they're +told they oughtn't to believe the worst, they're disappointed and still +go on believing it so as to comfort themselves.” + +“You cynical little wretch!” said I. + +“But it's true,” she urged. “And, after all, even if they were well +disposed, the correct version makes considerable demands on their faith. +Even Letty Farfax--” + +“I know! I know!” said I. “Letty Farfax is typical. She would love to +be on the side of the angels, but as she wouldn't meet the best people +there, she ranges herself with the other party.” + +Presently we dined, and during the meal, when the servants happened +to be out of the room, we continued, snippet-wise, the inconclusive +conversation. Like a good sister Agatha had come to cheer a lonely and +much abused man; like a daughter of Eve she had also come to find out as +much as she possibly could. + +“I think I must tell you something which you ought to know,” she said. +“It's all over the town that you stole the lady from Dale Kynnersley.” + +“If I did,” said I, “it was at his mother's earnest entreaty. You can +tell folks that. You can also tell them Madame Brandt is not the kind +of woman to be stolen by one man from another. She is a thoroughly +virtuous, good, and noble woman, and there's not a creature living who +wouldn't be honoured by her friendship.” + +As I made this announcement with an impetuosity which reminded me (with +a twinge of remorse) of poor Dale's dithyrambics, Agatha shot at me a +quick glance of apprehension. + +“But, my dear Simon, she used to act in a circus with a horse!” + +“I fail to see,” said I, growing angry, “how the horse could have imbued +her with depravity, and I'm given to understand that the tone of the +circus is not quite what it used to be in the days of the Empress +Theodora.” + +A ripple passed over Agatha's bare shoulders, which I knew to be a +suppressed shrug. + +“I suppose men and women look at these things differently,” she +remarked, and from the stiffness of her tone I divined that the idea +of moral qualities lurking in the nature of Lola Brandt occasioned her +considerable displeasure. + +“I hope----” She paused. There was another ripple. “No. I had better not +say it. It's none of my business, after all.” + +“I don't think it is, my dear,” said I. + +Rogers bringing in the cutlets ended the snippet of talk. + +It was not the cheeriest of dinners. I took advantage of the next +interval of quiet to inquire after Dale. I learned that the poor boy had +almost collapsed after the election and was now yachting with young Lord +Essendale somewhere about the Hebrides. Agatha had not seen him, but +Lady Kynnersley had called on her one day in a distracted frame of mind, +bitterly reproaching me for the unhappiness of her son. I should never +have suspected that such fierce maternal love could burn beneath Lady +Kynnersley's granite exterior. She accused me of treachery towards Dale +and, most illogically, of dishonourable conduct towards herself. + +“She said things about you,” said Agatha, “for which, even if they +were true, I couldn't forgive her. So that's an end of that friendship. +Indeed, it has been very difficult, Simon,” she continued, “to keep +up with our common friends. It has placed us in the most painful and +delicate position. And now you're back, I'm afraid it will be worse.” + +Thus under all Agatha's affection there ran the general hostility of +London. Guilty or not, I had offended her in her most deeply rooted +susceptibilities, and as yet she only knew half the imbroglio in which I +was enmeshed. Over coffee, however, she began to take a more optimistic +view of affairs. + +“After all, you'll be able to live it down,” she said with a cheerful +air of patronage. “People soon forget. Before the year is out you'll +be going about just as usual, and at the General Election you'll find a +seat somewhere.” + +I informed her that I had given up politics. What then, she asked, would +I do for an occupation? + +“Work for my living,” I replied. + +“Work?” She arched her eyebrows, as if it were the most extraordinary +thing a man could do. “What kind of work?” + +“Road-sweeping or tax-collecting or envelope-addressing.” + +She selected a cigarette from the silver box in front of her, and did +not reply until she had lit it and inhaled a puff or two. + +“I wish you wouldn't be so flippant, Simon.” + +From this remark I inferred that I still was in the criminal dock before +this lady Chief Justice. I smiled at the airs the little woman gave +herself now that I was no longer the impeccable and irreproachable +dictator of the family. Mine was the experience of every fallen tyrant +since the world began. + +“My dear Agatha, I've had enough shocks during the last few weeks to +knock the flippancy out of a Congregational minister. In November I was +condemned to die within six months. The sentence was final and absolute. +I thought I would do the kind of good one can't do with a lifetime in +front of one, and I wasted all my substance in riotous giving. In the +elegant phraseology of high society I am stone-broke. As my training has +not fitted me to earn my living in high-falutin ways, I must earn it in +some humble capacity. Therefore, if you see me call at your house for +the water rate, you'll understand that I am driven to that expedient by +necessity and not by degradation.” + +Naturally I had to elaborate this succinct statement before my sister +could understand its full significance. Then dismay overwhelmed her. +Surely something could be done. The fortunes of Jane and herself were +at my disposal to set me on my feet again. We were brother and sisters; +what was theirs was mine; they couldn't see me starve. I thanked her for +her affection--the dear creatures would unhesitatingly have let me play +ducks and drakes with their money, but I explained that though poor, I +was still proud and prized the independence of the tax-collector above +the position of the pensioner of Love's bounty. + +“Tom must get you something to do,” she declared. + +“Tom must do nothing of the kind. Let me say that once and for all,” + I returned peremptorily. “I've made my position clear to you, +because you're my sister and you ought to be spared any further +misinterpretation of my actions. But to have you dear people intriguing +after billets for me would be intolerable.” + +“But what are you going to _do_?” she cried, wringing her hands. + +“I'm going for my first omnibus ride to-morrow,” said I heroically. + +Upon which assertion Rogers entered announcing that her ladyship's +carriage had arrived. A while later I accompanied her downstairs and +along the arcade. + +“I shall be so miserable, thinking of you, poor old boy,” she said +affectionately, as she bade me good-bye. + +“Don't, I am going to enjoy myself for the first time in my life.” + +These were “prave 'orts,” but I felt doleful enough when I re-entered +the chambers where I had lived in uncomplaining luxury for fourteen +years. + +“There's no help for it,” I murmured. “I must get rid of the remainder +of my lease, sell my books and pictures and other more or less expensive +household goods, dismiss Rogers and Bingley, and go and live on thirty +shillings a week in a Bloomsbury boarding-house. I think,” I continued, +regarding myself in the Queen Anne mirror over the mantelpiece, “I think +that it will better harmonise with my fallen fortunes if I refrain from +waxing the ends of my moustache. There ought to be a modest droop about +the moustache of a tax-collector.” + +The next morning I gave my servants a months' notice. Rogers, who +had been with me for many years, behaved in the correctest manner. He +neither offered to lend me his modest savings nor to work for me for +no wages. He expressed his deep regret at leaving my service and his +confidence that I would give him a good character. Bingley wept after +the way of women. There was also a shadowy housemaidy young person in +a cap who used to make meteoric appearances and whom I left to the +diplomacy of Bingley. These dismal rites performed, I put my chambers +into the hands of a house agent and interviewed a firm of auctioneers +with reference to the sale. It was all exceedingly unpleasant. The agent +was so anxious to let my chambers, the auctioneer so delighted at the +chance of selling my effects, that I felt myself forthwith turned neck +and crop out of doors. It was a bright morning in early spring, with a +satirical touch of hope in the air. London, no longer to be my London, +maintained its hostile attitude to me. If any one had prophesied that I +should be a stranger in Piccadilly, I should have laughed aloud. Yet I +was. + +Walking moodily up Saint James's street I met the omniscient and +expansive Renniker. He gave me a curt nod and a “How d'ye do?” and +passed on. I felt savagely disposed to slash his jaunty silk hat +off with my walking-stick. A few months before he would have rushed +effusively into my arms and bedaubed me with miscellaneous inaccuracies +of information. At first I was furiously indignant. Then I laughed, and +swinging my stick, nearly wreaked my vengeance on a harmless elderly +gentleman. + +It was my first experience of social ostracism. Although I curled a +contumelious lip, I smarted under the indignity. It was all very well +to say proudly “_io son' io_”; but _io_ used to be a person of some +importance who was not cavalierly “how d'ye do'd” by creatures like +Renniker. This and the chance encounters of the next few weeks gave +me furiously to think. I knew that in one respect my sister Agatha was +right. These good folks who shied now at the stains of murder with which +my reputation was soiled would in time get used to them and eventually +forget them altogether. But I reflected that I should not forget, and +I determined that I should not be admitted on sufferance, as at first +I should have to be admitted, into any man's club or any woman's +drawing-room. + +One day Colonel Ellerton, Maisie Ellerton's father, called on me. He +used to be my very good friend; we sat on the same side of the House and +voted together on innumerable occasions in perfect sympathy and common +lack of conviction. He was cordial enough, congratulated me on my +marvellous restoration to health, deplored my absence from Parliamentary +life, and then began to talk confusedly of Russia. It took a little +perspicacity to see that something was weighing on the good man's mind; +something he had come to say and for his honest life could not get out. +His plight became more pitiable as the interview proceeded, and when he +rose to go, he grew as red as a turkey-cock and began to sputter. I went +to his rescue. + +“It's very kind of you to have come to see me, Ellerton,” I said, “but +if I don't call yet awhile to pay my respects to your wife, I hope +you'll understand, and not attribute it to discourtesy.” + +I have never seen relief so clearly depicted on a human countenance. He +drew a long breath and instinctively passed his handkerchief over his +forehead. Then he grasped my hand. + +“My dear fellow,” he cried, “of course we'll understand. It was a +shocking affair--terrible for you. My wife and I were quite bowled over +by it.” + +I did not attempt to clear myself. What was the use? Every man denies +these things as a matter of course, and as a matter of course nobody +believes him. + +Once I ran across Elphin Montgomery, a mysterious personage behind many +musical comedy enterprises. He is jewelled all over like a first-class +Hindoo idol, and is treated as a god in fashionable restaurants, +where he entertains riff-raff at sumptuous banquets. I had some slight +acquaintance with the fellow, but he greeted me as though I were a long +lost intimate--his heavy sensual face swagged in smiles--and invited me +to a supper party. I declined with courtesy and walked away in fury. He +would not have presumed to ask me to meet his riff-raff before I became +disgustingly and I suppose to some minds, fascinatingly, notorious. But +now I was hail-fellow-well-met with him, a bird of his own feather, +a rogue of his own kidney, to whom he threw open the gates of his +bediamonded and befrilled Alsatia. A pestilential fellow! As if I would +mortgage my birthright for such a mess of pottage. + +So I stiffened and bade Society high and low go packing. I would +neither seek mine own people, nor allow myself to be sought by Elphin +Montgomery's. I enwrapped myself in a fine garment of defiance. My +sister Jane, who was harder and more worldly-minded than Agatha, would +have had me don a helmet of brass and a breastplate of rhinoceros hide +and force my way through reluctant portals; but Agatha agreed with +me, clinging, however, to the hope that time would not only reconcile +Society to me, but would also reconcile me to Society. + +“If the hope comforts you, my dear Agatha,” said I, “by all means +cherish it. In the meantime, allow me to observe that the character of +Ishmael is eminently suited to the profession of tax-collecting.” + +During these early days of my return the one person with whom I had no +argument was Lola. She soothed where others scratched, and stimulated +where others goaded. The intimacy of my convalescence continued. At +first I acquainted her, as far as was reasonably necessary, with my +change of fortune, and accepted her offer to find me less expensive +quarters. The devoted woman personally inspected every flat in London, +with that insistence of which masculine patience is incapable, and +eventually decided on a tiny bachelor suite somewhere in the clouds over +a block of flats in Victoria Street where the service is included in the +rent. Into this I moved with such of my furniture as I withdrew from the +auctioneer's hammer, and there I prepared to stay until necessity should +drive me to the Bloomsbury boarding-house. I thought I would graduate my +descent. Before I moved, however, she came to the Albany for the first +and only time to see the splendour I was about to quit. In a modest way +it was splendour. My chambers were really a large double flat to the +tasteful furnishing of which I had devoted the thought and interest of +many years. She went with me through the rooms. The dining-room was all +Chippendale, each piece a long-coveted and hunted treasure; the library +old oak; the drawing-room a comfortable and cunning medley. There were +bits of old china, pieces of tapestry, some rare prints, my choice +collection of mezzotints, a picture or two of value--one a Lancret, a +very dear possession. And there were my books--once I had a passion +for rare bindings. Every thing had to me a personal significance, and I +hated the idea of surrender more than I dared to confess even to myself. +But I said to Lola: + +“Vanity of vanities! All things expensive are vanity!” + +Her eyes glistened and she slipped her arm through mine and patted the +back of my hand. + +“If you talk like that I shall cry and make a fool of myself,” she said +in a broken manner. + +It is not so much the thing that is done or the thing that is said that +matters, but the way of doing or saying it. In the commonplace pat on +the hand, in the break in the commonplace words there was something that +went straight to my heart. I squeezed her arm and whispered: + +“Thank you, dear.” + +This sympathy so sure and yet so delicately conveyed was mine for the +trouble of mounting the stairs that led to her drawing-room in Cadogan +Gardens. She seemed to be watching my heart the whole time, so that +without my asking, without my knowledge even, she could touch each sore +spot as it appeared, with the healing finger. For herself she made +no claims, and because she did not in any way declare herself to be +unhappy, I, after the manner of men, took her happiness for granted. For +lives there a man who does not believe that an uncomplaining woman has +nothing to complain of? It is his masculine prerogative of density. +Besides, does not he himself when hurt bellow like a bull? Why, +he argues, should not wounded woman do the same? So, when I wanted +companionship, I used to sit in the familiar room and make Adolphus, the +Chow dog, shoulder arms with the poker, and gossip restfully with Lola, +who sprawled in her old languorous, loose-limbed way among the cushions +of her easy chair. Gradually my habitual reserve melted from me, and +at last I gave her my whole confidence, telling her of my disastrous +pursuit of eumoiriety, of Eleanor Faversham, of the attitude of Society, +in fact, of most of what I have set down in the preceding pages. She was +greatly interested in everything, especially in Eleanor Faversham. She +wanted to know the colour of her eyes and hair and how she dressed. +Women are odd creatures. + +The weeks passed. + +Besides ministering to my dilapidated spirit, Lola found occupation in +looking after the cattery of Anastasius Papadopoulos, which the little +man had left in the charge of his pupil and assistant, Quast. This +Quast apparently was a faithful, stolid, but unintelligent and incapable +German who had remained loyally at his post until Lola found him there +in a state of semi-starvation. The sum of money with which Anastasius +had provided him had been eked out to the last farthing. The cats were +in a pitiable condition. Quast, in despair, was trying to make up his +dull mind whether to sell them or eat them. Lola with superb feminine +disregard of legal rights, annexed the whole cattery, maintained Quast +in his position of pupil and assistant and informed the landlord that +she would be responsible for the rent. Then she set to work to bring the +cats into their proper condition of sleekness, and, that done, to put +them through a systematic course of training. They had been thoroughly +demoralised, she declared, under Quast's maladministration, and had +almost degenerated into the unhistrionic pussies of domestic life. As +for Hephaestus, the great ferocious tom, he was more like an insane +tiger than a cat. He flew at the gate over which he used to jump, +and clawed and bit it to matchwood, and after spitting in fury at +the blazing hoop, sprang at the unhappy Quast as if he had been the +contriver of the indignities to which he was being subjected. These +tales of feline backsliding I used to hear from Lola, and when I asked +her why she devoted her energies to the unproductive education of the +uninspiring animals, she would shrug her shoulders and regard me with a +Giaconda smile. + +“In the first place it amuses me. You seem to forget I'm a _dompteuse_, +a tamer of beasts; it's my profession, I was trained to it. It's the +only thing I can do, and it's good to feel that I haven't lost my power. +It's odd, but I feel a different woman when I'm impressing my will +on these wretched cats. You must come one of these days and see a +performance, when I've got them ship-shape. They'll astonish you. And +then,” she would add, “I can write to Anastasius and tell him how his +beloved cats are getting on.” + +Well, it was an interest in her life which, Heaven knows, was not +crowded with exciting incidents. Now that I can look back on these +things with a philosophic eye, I can imagine no drearier existence than +that of a friendless, unoccupied woman in a flat in Cadogan Gardens. At +that time, I did not realise this as completely as I might have done. +Because her old surgeon friend, Sir Joshua Oldfield, now and then took +her out to dinner, I considered she was leading a cheerful if not a +merry life. I smiled indulgently at Lola's devotion to the cats and +congratulated her on having found another means whereby to beguile the +_tedium vitae_ which is the arch-enemy of content. + +“I wish I could find such a means myself,” said I. + +I not only had the wish, but the imperative need to so do. To stand like +Ajax defying the lightning is magnificent, but as a continuous avocation +it is wearisome and unprofitable, especially if carried on in a tiny +bachelor suite, an eyrie of a place, at the top of a block of flats in +Victoria Street. Indeed, if I did not add soon to the meagre remains of +my fortune, I should not be able to afford the luxury of the bachelor +suite. Conscious of this, I left the lightning alone, after a last +denunciatory shake of the fist, and descended into the busy ways of men +to look for work. + +Thus I entered on the second stage of my career--that of a soldier +of Fortune. At first I was doubtful as to what path to glory and +bread-and-butter I could carve out for myself. Hitherto I had been +Fortune's darling instead of her mercenary, and she had most politely +carved out my paths for me, until she had played her jade's trick +and left me in the ditch. Now things were different. I stood alone, +ironical, ambitionless, still questioning the utility of human effort, +yet determined to play the game of life to its bitter end. What could I +do? + +It is true that I had been called to the Bar in my tentative youth, +while I drafted documents for my betters to pull to pieces and rewrite +at the Foreign Office; but I had never seen a brief, and my memories +of Gaius, Justinian, Williams's “Real Property,” and Austin's +“Jurisprudence,” were as nebulous as those of the Differential Calculus +over whose facetiae I had pondered during my schooldays. The law was as +closed to me as medicine. I had no profession. I therefore drifted +into the one pursuit for which my training had qualified me, namely, +political journalism. I had written much, in my amateur way, during my +ten years' membership of Parliament; why, I hardly know--not because I +needed money, not because I had thoughts which I burned to express, and +certainly not through vain desire of notoriety. Perhaps the motive was +twofold, an ingrained Puckish delight in the incongruous--it seemed +incongruous for an airy epicurean like myself to spend stodgy +hours writing stodgier articles on Pauper Lunacy and Poor Law +Administration--and the same inherited sense of gentlemanly obligation +to do something for one's king and country as made my ancestors, whether +they liked it or not, clothe themselves in uncomfortable iron garments +and go about fighting other gentlemen similarly clad, to their own great +personal danger. At any rate, it complemented my work at St. Stephen's, +and doubtless contributed to a reputation in the House which I did +not gain through my oratory. I could therefore bring to editors the +stock-in-trade of a fairly accurate knowledge of current political +issues, an appreciation of personalities, and a philosophical subrident +estimate of the bubbles that are for ever rising on the political +surface. I found Finch of _The Universal Review_, James of _The Weekly_, +and one or two others more than willing to give me employment. I put my +pen also at the disposal of Raggles. It was as uplifting and about as +mechanical as tax-collecting; but it involved less physical exertion and +less unpleasant contact with my fellow creatures. I could also keep the +ends of my moustache waxed, which was a great consolation. + +My sister Agatha commended my courage and energy, and Lola read my +articles with a glowing enthusiasm, which compensated for lack of exact +understanding; but I was not proud of my position. It is one thing +to stand at the top of a marble staircase and in a debonair, jesting +fashion to fling insincere convictions to a recipient world. It is +another to sell the same worthless commodity for money. I began, to my +curious discomfort, to suspect that life had a meaning after all. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +One day I had walked from Cadogan Gardens with a gadfly phrase of Lola's +tormenting my ears: + +“You're not quite alive even yet.” + +I had spent most of the day over a weekly article for James's high-toned +periodical, using the same old shibboleths, proclaiming Gilead to be the +one place for balm, juggling with the same old sophistries, and proving +that Pope must have been out of his mind when he declared that an honest +man was the noblest work of God, seeing that nobler than the most honest +man was the disingenuous government held up to eulogy; and I had gone +tired, dispirited, out of conceit with myself to Lola for tea and +consolation. I had not been the merriest company. I had spoken gloomily +of the cosmos, and when Adolphus the Chow dog had walked down the room +in his hind legs, I had railed at the futility of canine effort. To +Lola, who had put forth all her artillery of artless and harmless +coquetry in voice and gesture, in order to lure my thoughts into +pleasanter ways, I exhibited the querulous grumpiness of a spoiled +village octogenarian. We discussed the weather, which was worth +discussing, for the spring, after long tarrying, had come. It was early +May. Lola laughed. + +“The spring has got into my blood.” + +“It hasn't got into mine,” I declared. “It never will. I wonder what the +deuce is the matter with me.” + +Then Lola had said, “My dear Simon, I know. You're not quite alive even +yet.” + +I walked homewards pestered by the phrase. What did she mean by it? +I stopped at the island round the clock-tower by Victoria Station and +bought a couple of newspapers. There, in the centre of the whirlpool +where swam dizzily omnibuses, luggage-laden cabs, whirling motors, +feverish, train-seeking humans, dirty newsboys, I stood absently saying +to myself, “You're not quite alive even yet.” + +A hand gripped my arm and a cheery voice said “Hallo!” I started and +recognised Rex Campion. I also said “Hallo!” and shook hands with him. +We had not met since the days when, having heard of my Monte Cristo +lavishness, he had called at the Albany and had beguiled me into giving +a thousand pounds to his beloved “Barbara's Building,” the prodigious +philanthropic institution which he had founded in the slums of South +Lambeth. In spite of my dead and dazed state of being I was pleased to +see his saturnine black-bearded face, and to hear his big voice. He was +one of those men who always talked like a megaphone. The porticoes of +Victoria Station re-echoed with his salutations. I greeted him less +vociferously, but with equal cordiality. + +“You're looking very fit. I head that you had gone through a miraculous +operation. How are you?” + +“Perfectly well,” said I, “but I've been told that I'm not quite alive +even yet.” + +He looked anxious. “Remains of trouble?” + +“Not a vestige,” I laughed. + +“That's all right,” he said breezily. “Now come along and hear Milligan +speak.” + +It did not occur to him that I might have work, worries, or engagements, +or that the evening's entertainment which he offered me might be the +last thing I should appreciate. His head, for the moment, was full +of Milligan, and it seemed to him only natural that the head of all +humanity should be full of Milligan too. I made a wry face. + +“That son of thunder?” + +Milligan was a demagogue who had twice unsuccessfully attempted to get +into Parliament in the Labour interest. + +“Have you ever heard him?” + +“Heaven forbid!” said I in my pride. + +“Then come. He's speaking in the Hall of the Lambeth Biblical Society.” + +I was tempted, as I wanted company. In spite of my high resolve to +out-Ishmael Ishmael, I could not kill a highly developed gregarious +instinct. I also wanted a text for an article. But I wanted my dinner +still more. Campion condemned the idea of dinner. + +“You can have a cold supper,” he roared, “like the rest of us.” + +I yielded. Campion dragged me helpless to a tram at the top of Vauxhall +Bridge Road. + +“It will do Your Mightiness good to mingle with the proletariat,” he +grinned. + +I did not tell him that I had been mingling with it in this manner +for some time past or that I repudiated the suggestion of its benign +influence. I entered the tram meekly. As soon as we were seated, he +began: + +“I bet you won't guess what I've done with your thousand pounds. I'll +give you a million guesses.” + +As I am a poor conjecturer, I put on a blank expression and shook my +head. He waited for an instant, and then shouted with an air of triumph: + +“I've founded a prize, my boy--a stroke of genius. I've called it by +your name. 'The de Gex Prize for Housewives.' I didn't bother you about +it as I knew you were in a world of worry. But just think of it. +An annual prize of thirty pounds--practically the interest--for +housewives!” + +His eyes flashed in his enthusiasm; he brought his heavy hand down on my +knee. + +“Well?” I asked, not electrified by this announcement. + +“Don't you see?” he exclaimed. “I throw the competition open to the +women in the district, with certain qualifications, you know--I look +after all that. They enter their names by a given date and then they +start fair. The woman who keeps her home tidiest and her children +cleanest collars the prize. Isn't it splendid?” + +I agreed. “How many competitors?” + +“Forty-three. And there they are working away, sweeping their floors and +putting up clean curtains and scrubbing their children's noses till they +shine like rubies and making their homes like little Dutch pictures. You +see, thirty pounds is a devil of a lot of money for poor people. As one +mother of a large family said to me, 'With that one could bury them all +quite beautiful.'” + +“You're a wonderful fellow,” said I, somewhat enviously. + +He gave an awkward laugh and tugged at his beard. + +“I've only happened to find my job, and am doing it as well as I can,” + he said. “'Tisn't very much, after all. Sometimes one gets discouraged; +people are such ungrateful pigs, but now and again one does help a lame +dog over a stile which bucks one up, you know. Why don't you come down +and have a look at us one of these days? You've been promising to do so +for years.” + +“I will,” said I with sudden interest. + +“You can have a peep at one or two of the competing homes. We pop into +them unexpectedly at all hours. That's a part of the game. We've a +complicated system of marks which I'll show you. Of course, no woman +knows how she's getting on, otherwise many would lose heart.” + +“How do the men like this disconcerting ubiquity of soap and water?” + +“They love it!” he cried. “They're keen on the prize too. Some think +they'll grab the lot and have the devil's own drunk when the year's up. +But I'll look after that. Besides, when a chap has been living in the +pride of cleanliness for a year he'll get into the way of it and be less +likely to make a beast of himself. Anyway, I hope for the best. My God, +de Gex, if I didn't hope and hope and hope,” he cried earnestly, “I +don't know how I should get through anything without hope and a faith in +the ultimate good of things.” + +“The same inconvincible optimist?” said I. + +“Yes. Thank heaven. And you?” + +I paused. There came a self-revelatory flash. “At the present moment,” I +said, “I'm a perfectly convincible vacuist.” + +We left the tram and the main thoroughfare, and turned into frowsy +streets, peopled with frowsy men and women and raucous with the +bickering play of frowsy children. It was still daylight. Over London +the spring had fluttered its golden pinions, and I knew that in more +blessed quarters--in the great parks, in Piccadilly, in Old Palace +Yard, half a mile away--its fragrance lingered, quickening blood already +quickened by hope, and making happier hearts already happy. But here the +ray of spring had never penetrated either that day or the days of former +springs; so there was no lingering fragrance. Here no one heeded the +aspects of the changing year save when suffocated by sweltering heat, or +frozen in the bitter cold, or drenched by the pouring rain. Otherwise in +these gray, frowsy streets spring, summer, autumn, winter were all the +same to the grey, frowsy people. It is true that youth laughed--pale, +animal boys, and pale, flat-chested girls. But it laughed chiefly at +inane obscenity. + +One of these days, when phonography is as practicable as photography, +some one will make accurate records in these frowsy streets, and then, +after the manner of the elegant writers of Bucolics and Pastorals, +publish such a series of Urbanics and Pavimentals, phonographic +dialogues between the Colins and Dulcibellas of the pavement and the +gutter as will freeze up Hell with horror. + +An anemic, flirtatious group passed us, the girls in front, the boys +behind. + +“Good God, Campion, what _can_ you do?” I asked. + +“Pay them, old chap,” he returned quickly. + +“What's the good of that?” + +“Good? Oh, I see!” He laughed, with a touch of scorn. “It's a question +of definition. When you see a fellow creature suffering and it shocks +your refined susceptibilities and you say 'poor devil' and pass on, you +think you have pitied him. But you haven't. You think pity's a passive +virtue. It isn't. If you really pity anybody, you go mad to help +him--you don't stand by with tears of sensibility running down your +cheeks. You stretch out your hand, because you've damn well got to. If +he won't take it, or wipes you over the head, that's his look-out. You +can't work miracles. But once in a way he does take it, and then--well, +you work like hell to pull him through. And if you do, what bigger thing +is there in the world than the salvation of a human soul?” + +“It's worth living for,” said I. + +“It's worth doing any confounded old thing for,” he declared. + +I envied Campion as I had envied no man before. He was alive in heart +and soul and brain; I was not quite alive even yet. But I felt better +for meeting him. I told him so. He tugged his beard again and laughed. + +“I am a happy old crank. Perhaps that's the reason.” + +At the door of the hall of the Lambeth Ethical Society he stopped short +and turned on me; his jaw dropped and he regarded me in dismay. + +“I'm the flightiest and feather-headedest ass that ever brayed,” he +informed me. “I just remember I sent Miss Faversham a ticket for +this meeting about a fortnight ago. I had clean forgotten it, though +something uncomfortable has been tickling the back of my head all the +time. I'm miserably sorry.” + +I hastened to reassure him. “Miss Faversham and I are still good +friends. I don't think she'll mind my nodding to her from the other side +of the room.” Indeed, she had written me one or two letters since my +recovery perfect in tact and sympathy, and had put her loyal friendship +at my service. + +“Even if we meet,” I smiled, “nothing tragic will happen.” + +He expressed his relief. + +“But what,” I asked, “is Miss Faversham doing in this galley?” + +“I suppose she is displaying an intelligent interest in modern thought,” + he said, with boyish delight at the chance I had offered him. + +“_Touche_,” said I, with a bow, and we entered the hall. + +It was crowded. The audience consisted of the better class of artisans, +tradesmen, and foremen in factories: there was a sprinkling of +black-coated clerks and unskilled labouring men. A few women's hats +sprouted here and there among the men's heads like weeds in a desert. +There were women, too, in proportionately greater numbers, on the +platform at the end of the hall, and among them I was quick to notice +Eleanor Faversham. As Campion disliked platforms and high places in +synagogues, we sat on one of the benches near the door. He explained it +was also out of consideration for me. + +“If Milligan is too strong for your proud, aristocratic stomach,” he +whispered, “you can cut and run without attracting attention.” + +Milligan had evidently just began his discourse. I had not listened to +him for five minutes when I found myself caught in the grip which he was +famous for fastening on his audience. With his subject--Nationalisation +of the Land--and his arguments I had been perfectly familiar for years. +As a boy I had read Henry George's “Progress and Poverty” with the +superciliousness of the young believer in the divine right of Britain's +landed gentry, and before the Eton Debating Society I had demolished the +whole theory to my own and every one else's satisfaction. Later, as +a practical politician, I had kept myself abreast of the Socialist +movement. I did not need Mr. John Milligan, whom my lingering flippancy +had called a son of thunder, to teach me the elements of the matter. But +at this peculiar crisis of my life I felt that, in a queer, unknown way, +Milligan had a message for me. It was uncanny. I sat and listened to +the exposition of Utopia with the rapt intensity of any cheesemonger's +assistant there before whose captured spirit floated the vision of days +to come when the land should so flow with milk and money that golden +cheeses would be like buttercups for the plucking. It was not the man's +gospel that fascinated me nor his illuminated prophecy of the millennium +that produced the vibrations in my soul, but the surging passion of his +faith, the tempest of his enthusiasm. I had enough experience of public +speaking to distinguish between the theatrical and the genuine in +oratory. Here was no tub-thumping soothsayer, but an inspired zealot. He +lived his impassioned creed in every fibre of his frame and faculties. +He was Titanic, this rough miner, in his unconquerable hope, divine in +his yearning love of humanity. + +When he ended there was a dead silence for a second, and then a roar of +applause from the pale, earnest, city-stamped faces. A lump rose in my +throat. Campion clutched my knee. A light burned in his eyes. + +“Well? What about Boanerges?” + +“Only one thing,” said I, “I wish I were as alive as that man.” + +A negligible person proposed a vote of thanks to Milligan, after which +the hall began to empty. Campion, caught by a group of his proletariat +friends, signalled to me to wait for him. And as I waited I saw Eleanor +Faversham come slowly from the platform down the central gangway. Her +eyes fixed themselves on me at once--for standing there alone I must +have been a conspicuous figure, an intruder from the gorgeous West--and +with a little start of pleasure she hurried her pace. I made my way past +the chattering loiterers in my row, and met her. We shook hands. + +“Well? Saul among the prophets? Who would have thought of seeing you +here!” + +I waved my hand towards Campion. “We have the same sponsor.” She glanced +at him for a swift instant and then at me. + +“Did you like it?” + +“Have you seen Niagara?” + +“Yes.” + +“Did you like it?” + +“I'm so glad,” she cried. “I thought perhaps----” she broke off. “Why +haven't you tried to see me?” + +“There are certain conventions.” + +“I know,” she said. “They're idiotic.” + +“There's also Mrs. Faversham,” said I. + +“Mother is the dearest thing in life,” she replied, “but Mrs. Faversham +is a convention.” She came nearer to me, in order to allow a freer +passage down the gangway and also in order to be out of earshot of an +elderly woman who was obviously accompanying her. “Simon, I've been a +good friend to you. I believe in you. Nothing will shake my convictions. +You couldn't look into my eyes like that if--well--you know.” + +“I couldn't,” said I. + +“Then why can't two honourable, loyal people meet? We only need meet +once. But I want to tell you things I can't write--things I can't +say here. I also want to hear of things. I think I've got a kind of +claim--haven't I?” + +“I've told you, Eleanor. My letters--” + +“Letters are rubbish!” she declared with a laugh. “Where can we meet?” + +“Agatha is a good soul,” said I. + +“Well, fix it up by telephone to-morrow.” + +“Alas!” said I; “I don't run to telephones in my eagle's nest on +Himalaya Mansions.” + +She knitted her brows. “That's not the last address you wrote from.” + +“No,” I replied, smiling at this glimpse of the matter-of-fact Eleanor. +“It was a joke.” + +“You're incorrigible!” she said rebukingly. + +“I don't joke so well in rags as in silken motley,” I returned with a +smile, “but I do my best.” + +She disdained a retort. “We'll arrange, anyhow, with Agatha.” + +Campion, escaping from his friends, came up and chatted for a minute. +Then he saw Eleanor and her companion to their carriage. + +“Now,” said he a moment later, “come to Barbara and have some supper. +You won't mind if Jenkins joins us?” + +“Who's Jenkins?” I asked. + +“Jenkins is an intelligent gas-fitter of Sociological tastes. He classes +Herbert Spencer, Benjamin Kidd, and Lombroso as light literature. He +also helps us with our young criminals. I should like you to meet him.” + +“I should be delighted,” I said. + +So Jenkins was summoned from a little knot a few yards off and duly +presented. Whereupon we proceeded to Campion's plain but comfortably +furnished quarters in Barbara's Building, where he entertained us till +nearly midnight with cold beef and cheese and strenuous conversation. + +As I walked across Westminster Bridge on my homeward way it seemed as +if London had grown less hostile. Big Ben chimed twelve and there was a +distinct Dick Whittington touch about the music. The light on the +tower no longer mocked me. As I passed by the gates of Palace Yard, +a policeman on duty recognised me and saluted. I strode on with a +springier tread and noticed that the next policeman who did not know me, +still regarded me with an air of benevolence. A pale moon shone in the +heavens and gave me shyly to understand that she was as much my moon as +any one else's. As I turned into Victoria Street, omnibuses passed +me with a lurch of friendliness. The ban was lifted. I danced +(figuratively) along the pavement. + +What it portended I did not realise. I was conscious of nothing but a +spiritual exhilaration comparable only with the physical exhilaration +I experienced in the garden at Algiers when my bodily health had been +finally established. As the body then felt the need of expressing itself +in violent action--in leaping and running (an impulse which I firmly +subdued), so now did my spirit crave some sort of expression in violent +emotion. I was in a mood for enraptured converse with an archangel. + +Looking back, I see that Campion's friendly “Hallo” had awakened me from +a world of shadows and set me among realities; the impact of Milligan's +vehement personality had changed the conditions of my life from static +to dynamic; and that a Providence which is not always as ironical as +it pleases us to assert had sent Eleanor Faversham's graciousness to +mitigate the severity of the shock. I see how just was Lola's diagnosis. +“You're not quite alive even yet.” I had been going about in a state of +suspended spiritual animation. + +My recovery dated from that evening. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +Agatha proved herself the good soul I had represented her to be. + +“Certainly, dear,” she said when I came the following morning with my +request. “You can have my boudoir all to yourselves.” + +“I am grateful,” said I, “and for the first time I forgive you for +calling it by that abominable name.” + +It was an old quarrel between us. Every lover of language picks out +certain words in common use that he hates with an unreasoning ferocity. + +“I'll change it's title if you like,” she said meekly. + +“If you do, my dear Agatha, my gratitude will be eternal.” + +“I remember a certain superior person, when Tom and I were engaged, +calling mother's boudoir--the only quiet place in the house--the +osculatorium.” + +She laughed with the air of a small bird who after long waiting had at +last got even with a hawk. But I did not even smile. For the only time +in our lives I considered that Agatha had committed a breach of good +taste. I said rather stiffly: + +“It is not going to be a lovers' meeting, my dear.” + +She flushed. “It was silly of me. But why shouldn't it be a lovers' +meeting?” she added audaciously. “If nothing had happened, you two would +have been married by this time--” + +“Not till June.” + +“Oh, yes, you would. I should have seen about that--a ridiculously long +engagement. Anyhow, it was only your illness that broke it off. You were +told you were going to die. You did the only honourable and sensible +thing--both of you. Now you're in splendid health again--” + +“Stop, stop!” I interrupted. “You seem to be entirely oblivious of the +circumstances--” + +“I'm oblivious of no circumstances. Neither is Eleanor. And if she still +cares for you she won't care twopence for the circumstances. I know I +wouldn't.” + +And to cut off my reply she clapped the receiver of the telephone to her +ear and called up Eleanor, with whom she proceeded to arrange a date for +the interview. Presently she screwed her head round. + +“She says she can come at four this afternoon. Will that suit you?” + +“Perfectly,” said I. + +When she replaced the receiver I stepped behind her and put my hands on +her shoulders. + +“'The mother of mischief,'” I quoted, “'is no bigger than a midge's +wing,' and the grandmother is the match-making microbe that lurks in +every woman's system.” + +She caught one of my hands and looked up into my face. + +“You're not cross with me, Simon?” + +Her tone was that of the old Agatha. I laughed, remembering the +policeman's salute of the previous night, and noted this recovery of +my ascendancy as another indication of the general improvement in the +attitude of London. + +“Of course not, Tom Tit,” said I, calling her by her nursery name. “But +I absolutely forbid your thinking of playing Fairy Godmother.” + +“You can forbid my playing,” she laughed, “and I can obey you. But you +can't prevent my thinking. Thought is free.” + +“Sometimes, my dear,” I retorted, “it is better chained up.” + +With this rebuke I left her. No doubt, she considered a renewal of my +engagement with Eleanor Faversham a romantic solution of difficulties. +I could only regard it as preposterous, and as I walked back to Victoria +Street I convinced myself that Eleanor's frank offer of friendship +proved that such an idea never entered her head. I took vehement pains +to convince myself Spring had come; like the year, I had awakened from +my lethargy. I viewed life through new eyes; I felt it with a new heart. +Such vehement pains I was not capable of taking yesterday. + +“It has never entered her head!” I declared conclusively. + +And yet, as we sat together a few hours later in Agatha's little room a +doubt began to creep into the corners of my mind. In her strong way +she had brushed away the scandal that hung around my name. She did not +believe a word of it. I told her of my loss of fortune. My lunacy +rather raised than lowered me in her esteem. How then was I personally +different from the man she had engaged herself to marry six months +before? I remembered our parting. I remembered her letters. Her presence +here was proof of her unchanging regard. But was it something more? Was +there a hope throbbing beneath that calm sweet surface to which I did +not respond? For it often happens that the more direct a woman is, the +more in her feminine heart is she elusive. + +Clean-built, clean-hearted, clean-eyed, of that clean complexion which +suggests the open air, Eleanor impressed you with a sense of bodily and +mental wholesomeness. Her taste in dress ran in the direction of plain +tailor-made gowns (I am told, by the way, that these can be fairly +expensive), and shrank instinctively from the frills and fripperies to +which daughters of Eve are notoriously addicted. She spoke in a clear +voice which some called hard, though I never found it so; she carried +herself proudly. Chaste in thought, frank in deed, she was a perfect +specimen of the highly bred, purely English type of woman who, looking +at facts squarely in the face, accepts them as facts and does not allow +her imagination to dally in any atmosphere wherein they may be invested. +To this type a vow is irrefragable. Loyalty is inherent in her like +her blood. She never changes. What feminine inconsistencies she had +at fifteen she retains at five-and-twenty, and preserves to add to the +charms of her old age. She is the exemplary wife, the great-hearted +mother of children. She has sent her sons in thousands to fight her +country's battles overseas. Those things which lie in the outer temper +of her soul she gives lavishly. That which is hidden in her inner shrine +has to be wrested from her by the one hand she loves. Was mine that +hand? + +It will be perceived that I was beginning to take life seriously. + +Eleanor must have also perceived something of the sort; for during our +talk she said irrelevantly: + +“You've changed!” + +“In what way?” I asked. + +“I don't know. You're not the same as you were. I seem to know you +better in some ways, and yet I seem to know you less. Why is it?” + +I said, “No one can go through the Valley of the Grotesque as I have +done without suffering some change.” + +“I don't see why you should call it 'the Valley of the Grotesque.'” + +I smiled at her instinctive rejection of the fanciful. + +“Don't you? Call it the Valley of the Shadow, if you like. But don't +you think the attendant circumstances were rather mediaeval, gargoyley, +Orcagnesque? Don't you think the whole passage lacked the dignity which +one associates with the Valley of the Shadow of Death?” + +“You mean the murder?” she said with a faint shiver. + +“That,” said I, “might be termed the central feature. Just look at +things as they happened. I am condemned to death. I try to face it like +a man and a gentleman. I make my arrangements. I give up what I can call +mine no longer. I think I will devote the rest of my days to performing +such acts of helpfulness and charity as would be impossible for a sound +man with a long life before him to undertake. I do it in a half-jesting +spirit, refusing to take death seriously. I pledge myself to an act of +helpfulness which I regard at first as merely an incident in my career +of beneficence. I am gradually caught in the tangle of a drama which at +times develops into sheer burlesque, and before I can realise what is +going to happen, it turns into ghastly tragedy. I am overwhelmed in +grotesque disaster--it is the only word. Instead of creating happiness +all around me, I have played havoc with human lives. I stand on the +brink and look back and see that it is all one gigantic devil-jest at +my expense. I thank God I am going to die. I do die--for practical +purposes. I come back to life and--here I am. Can I be quite the same +person I was a year ago?” + +She reflected for a few moments. Then she said: + +“No. You can't be--quite the same. A man of your nature would either +have his satirical view of life hardened into bitter cynicism or he +would be softened by suffering and face things with new and nobler +ideals. He would either still regard life as a jest--but instead of its +being an odd, merry jest it would be a grim, meaningless, hideous one; +or he would see that it wasn't a jest at all, but a full, wonderful, big +reality. I've expressed myself badly, but you see what I mean.” + +“And what do you think has happened?” I asked. + +“I think you have changed for the better.” + +I smiled inwardly. It sounded rather dull. I said with a smile: + +“You never liked my cap and bells, Eleanor.” + +“No!” she replied emphatically. “What's the use of mockery? See where it +led you.” + +I rose, half-laughing at her earnestness, half-ashamed of myself, and +took a couple of turns across the room. + +“You're right,” I cried. “It led me to perdition. You might make an +allegory out of my career and entitle it 'The Mocker's Progress.'” I +paused for a second or two, and then said suddenly, “Why did you from +the first refuse to believe what everybody else does--before I had the +chance of looking you in the eyes?” + +She averted her face. “You forget that I had had the chance of searching +deep beneath the mocker.” + +I cannot, in reverence to her, set down what she said she found there. I +stood humbled and rebuked, as a man must do when the best in him is laid +out before his sight by a good woman. + +A maidservant brought in tea, set the table, and departed, Eleanor drew +off her gloves and my glance fell on her right hand. + +“It's good of you to wear my ring to-day,” I said. + +“To-day?” she echoed, with the tiniest touch of injury in her voice. “Do +you think I put it on to just please you to-day?” + +“It would have been gracious of you to do so,” said I. + +“It wouldn't,” she declared. “It would have been mawkish and +sentimental. When we parted I told you to do what you liked with the +ring. Do you remember? You put it on this finger”--she waved her right +hand--“and there it has stayed ever since.” + +I caught the hand and touched it lightly with my lips. She coloured +faintly. + +“Two lumps of sugar and no milk, I think that's right?” She handed me +the tea-cup. + +“It's like you not to have forgotten.” + +“I'm a practical person,” she replied with a laugh. + +Presently she said, “Tell me more about your illness--or rather your +recovery. I know nothing except that you had a successful operation +which all the London surgeons said was impossible. Who nursed you?” + +“I had a trained nurse,” said I. + +“Wasn't Madame Brandt with you?” + +“Yes,” said I. “She was very good to me. In fact, I think I owe her my +life.” + +Hitherto the delicacy of the situation had caused me to refer to Lola +no more than was necessary, and in my narrative I had purposely left her +vague. + +“That's a great debt,” said Eleanor. + +“It is, indeed.” + +“You're not the man to leave such a debt unpaid?” + +“I try to repay it by giving Madame Brandt my devoted friendship.” + +Her eyes never wavered as they held mine. + +“That's one of the things I wanted to know. Tell me something about +her.” + +I felt some surprise, as Eleanor was of a nature too proud for +curiosity. + +“Why do you want to know?” + +“Because she interests me intensely. Is she young?” + +“About thirty-two.” + +“Good-looking?” + +“She is a woman of remarkable personality.” + +“Describe her.” + +I tried, stumbled, and halted. The effort evoked in my mind a picture +of Lola lithe, seductive, exotic, with gold flecks in her dusky, melting +eyes, with strong shapely arms that had as yet only held me motherwise, +with her pantherine suggestion of tremendous strength in languorous +repose, with her lazy gestures and parted lips showing the wonderful +white even teeth, with all her fascination and charm--a picture of Lola +such as I had not seen since my emergence from the Valley--a picture of +Lola, generous, tender, wistful, strong, yielding, fragrant, lovable, +desirable, amorous--a picture of Lola which I could not put before this +other woman equally brave and straight, who looked at me composedly out +of her calm, blue eyes. + +My description resolved itself into a loutish catalogue. + +“It is not painful to you to talk of her, Simon?” + +“Not at all. There are not many great-hearted women going about. It is +my privilege to know two.” + +“Am I the other?” + +“Who else?” + +“I'm glad you have the courage to class Madame Brandt and myself +together.” + +“Why?” I asked. + +“It proves beyond a doubt that you are honest with me. Now tell me +about a few externals--things that don't matter--but help one to form an +impression. Is she educated?” + +“From books, no; from observation, yes.” + +“Her manners?” + +“Observation had educated them.” + +“Accent?” + +“She is sufficiently polyglot to have none.” + +“She dresses and talks and behaves generally like a lady?” + +“She does,” said I. + +“In what way then does she differ from the women of our class?” + +“She is less schooled, less reticent, franker, more natural. What is on +her tongue to say, she says.” + +“Temper?” + +“I have never heard her say an angry word to or of a human creature. She +has queer delicacies of feeling. For instance----” + +I told her of Anastasius Papadopoulos's tawdry, gimcrack presents which +Lola has suffered to remain in her drawing-room so as not to hurt the +poor little wretch. + +“That's very touching. Where does she live?” + +“She has a flat in Cadogan Gardens.” + +“Is she in London now?” + +“Yes.” + +“I should like very much to know her,” she said calmly. + +I vow and declare again that the more straightforward and open-eyed, the +less subtle, temperamental, and neurotic are women, the more are they +baffling. I had wondered for some time whither the catechism tended, +and now, with a sudden jerk, it stopped short at this most unexpected +terminus. It was startling. I rose and mechanically placed my empty +tea-cup on the tray by her side. + +“The wish, my dear Eleanor,” said I, quite formally, “does great credit +to your heart.” + +There was a short pause, marking an automatic close of the subject. +Deeply as I admired both women, I shrank from the idea of their meeting. +It seemed curiously indelicate, in view both of my former engagement +to Eleanor and of Lola's frank avowal of her feelings towards me before +what I shall always regard as my death. It is true that we had never +alluded to it since my resurrection; but what of that? Lola's feelings, +I was sure, remained unaltered. It also flashed on me that, with all the +goodwill in the world, Eleanor would not understand Lola. An interview +would develop into a duel. I pictured it for a second, and my sudden +fierce partisanship for Lola staggered me. Decidedly an acquaintance +between these two was preposterous. + +The silence was definite enough to mark a period, but not long enough to +cause embarrassment. Eleanor commented on my present employment. I must +find it good to get back to politics. + +“I find it to the contrary,” said I, with a laugh. “My convictions, +always lukewarm, are now stone-cold. I don't say that the principles of +the party are wrong. But they're wrong for me, which is all-important. +If they are not right for me, what care I how right they be? And as I +don't believe in those of the other side, I'm going to give up politics +altogether.” + +“What will you do?” + +“I don't know. I honestly don't. But I have an insistent premonition +that I shall soon find myself doing something utterly idiotic, which to +me will be the most real thing in life.” + +I had indeed awakened that morning with an exhilarating thrill of +anticipation, comparable to that of the mountain climber who knows not +what panorama of glory may be disclosed to his eyes when he reaches the +summit. I had whistled in my bath--a most unusual thing. + +“Are you going to turn Socialist?” + +“_Qui lo sa_? I'm willing to turn anything alive and honest. It doesn't +matter what a man professes so long as he professes it with all the +faith of all his soul.” + +I broke into a laugh, for the echo of my words rang comic in my ears. + +“Why do you laugh?” she asked. + +“Don't you think it funny to hear me talk like a two-penny Carlyle?” + +“Not a bit,” she said seriously. + +“I can't undertake to talk like that always,” I said warningly. + +“I thought you said you were going to be serious.” + +“So I am--but platitudinous--Heaven forbid!” + +The little clock on the mantelpiece struck six. Eleanor rose in alarm. + +“How the time has flown! I must be getting back. Well?” + +Our eyes met. “Well?” said I. + +“Are we ever to meet again?” + +“It's for you to say.” + +“No,” she said. And then very distinctly, very deliberately, “It's for +you.” + +I understood. She made the offer simply, nobly, unreservedly. My heart +was filled with great gratitude. She was so true, so loyal, so thorough. +Why could I not take her at her word? I murmured: + +“I'll remember what you say.” + +She put out her hand. “Good-bye!” + +“Good-bye and God bless you!” I said. + +I accompanied her to the front door, hailed a passing cab, and waited +till she had driven off. Was there ever a sweeter, grander, more loyal +woman? The three little words had changed the current of my being. + +I returned to take leave of Agatha. I found her in the drawing-room +reading a novel. She twisted her head sideways and regarded me with a +bird-like air of curiosity. + +“Eleanor gone?” + +Her tone jarred on me. I nodded and dropped into a chair. + +“Interview passed off satisfactorily?” + +“We were quite comfortable, thank you. The only drawback was the tea. +Why a woman in your position can't give people China tea instead of that +Ceylon syrup will be a mystery to me to my dying day.” + +She rose in her wrath and shook me. + +“You're the most aggravating wretch on earth!” + +“My dear Tom-Tit,” said I gravely. “Remember the moral tale of +Bluebeard.” + +“Look here, Simon”--she planted herself in front of me--“I'm not a bit +inquisitive. I don't in the least want to know what passed between you +and Eleanor. But what I would give my ears to understand is how you +can go through a two hours' conversation with the girl you were engaged +to--a conversation which must have affected the lives of both of +you--and then come up to me and talk drivel about China tea and +Bluebeard.” + +“Once on a time, my dear,” said I, “I flattered myself on being an +artist in life. I am humbler now and acknowledge myself a wretched +bungling amateur. But I still recognise the value of chiaroscuro.” + +“You're hopeless,” said Agatha, somewhat crossly. “You get more flippant +and cynical every day.” + + + +CHAPTER XX + +I went home to my solitary dinner, and afterwards took down a volume of +Emerson and tried to read. I thought the cool and spacious philosopher +might allay a certain fever in my blood. But he did nothing of the kind. +He wrote for cool and spacious people like himself; not for corpses +like me revivified suddenly with an overcharge of vital force. I pitched +him--how much more truly companionable is a book than its author!--I +pitched him across the room, and thrusting my hands in my pockets and +stretching out my legs, stared in a certain wonder at myself. + +I, Simon de Gex, was in love; and, _horribile dictu!_ in love with two +women at once. It was Oriental, Mormonic, New Century, what you will; +but there it was. I am ashamed to avow that if, at that moment, both +women had appeared before me and said “Marry us,” I should have--well, +reflected seriously on the proposal. I had passed through curious enough +experiences, Heaven knows, already; but none so baffling as this. The +two women came alternately and knocked at my heart, and whispered in my +ear their irrefutable claims to my love. I listened throbbingly to each, +and to each I said, “I love you.” + +I was in an extraordinary psychological predicament. Lola had remarked, +“You are not quite alive even yet.” I had come to complete life too +suddenly. This was the result. I got up and paced the bird-cage, which +the house-agents termed a reception-room, and wondered whether I were +going mad. It was not as if one woman represented the flesh and the +other the spirit. Then I might have seen the way to a decision. But both +had the large nature that comprises all. I could not exalt one in +any way to the abasement of the other. All my inherited traditions, +prejudices, predilections, all my training ranged me on the side of +Eleanor. I was clamouring for the real. Was she not the incarnation +of the real? Her very directness piqued me to a perverse and delicious +obliquity. And I knew, as I knew when I parted from her months before, +that it was only for me to awaken things that lay virginally dormant. +On the other hand stood Lola, with her magnetic seduction, her rich +atmosphere, her great wide simplicity of heart, holding out arms into +which I longed to throw myself. + +It was monstrous, abnormal. I hated the abominable indelicacy of +weighing one against the other, as I had hated the idea of their +meeting. + +I paced my bird-cage until it shrank to the size of a rat-trap. Then +I clapped on my hat and fled down into the streets. I jumped into the +first cab I saw and bade the driver take me to Barbara's Building. +Campion suddenly occurred to me as the best antidote to the poison that +had entered my blood. + +I found him alone, clearing from the table the remains of supper. In +spite of his soul's hospitable instincts, he stared at me. + +“Why, what the----?” + +“Yes, I know. You're surprised to see me bursting in on you like a wild +animal. I'm not going to do it every night, but this evening I claim a +bit of our old friendship.” + +“Claim it all, my dear de Gex!” he said cordially. “What can I do for +you?” + +It was characteristic of Campion to put his question in that form. +Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have asked what was the matter +with me. But Campion, who all his life had given, wanted to know what he +could co. + +“Tell me fairy tales of Lambeth and idylls of the Waterloo Bridge Road. +Or light your pipe and talk to me of Barbara.” + +He folded up the tablecloth and put it in the sideboard drawer. + +“If it's elegant distraction you want,” said he, “I can do better +than that.” He planted himself in front of me. “Would you like to do a +night's real work?” + +“Certainly,” said I. + +“A gentleman of my acquaintance named Judd is in the ramping stage of +_delirium tremens_. He requires a couple of men to hold him down so as +to prevent him from getting out of bed and smashing his furniture and +his wife and things. I was going to relieve one of the fellows there +now, so that he can get a few hours' sleep, and if you like to come +and relieve the other, you'll be doing a good action. But I warn you it +won't be funny.” + +“I'm in the mood for anything,” I said. + +“You'll come?” + +“Of course.” + +“That's splendid!” he shouted. “I hardly thought you were in earnest. +Wait till I telephone for some medicine to be sent up from the +dispensary. I promised to take it round with me.” + +He telephoned instructions, and presently a porter brought in the +medicine. Campion explained that it had been prescribed by the doctor +attached to the institution who was attending the case. + +“You must come and see the working of our surgery and dispensary!” he +cried enthusiastically. “We charge those who can afford a sixpence for +visit and medicine. Those who can't are provided, after inquiry, with +coupons. We don't want to encourage the well-to-do to get their medical +advice gratis, or we wouldn't be able to cope with the really poor. We +pay the doctor a fixed salary, and the fees go to the general fund of +the Building, so it doesn't matter a hang to him whether a patient pays +or not.” + +“You must be proud of all this, Campion?” I said. + +“In a way,” he replied, lighting his pipe; “but it's mainly a question +of money--my poor old father's money which he worked for, not I.” + +I reminded him that other sons had been known to put their poor old +father's money to baser uses. + +“I suppose Barbara is more useful to the community that steam yachts or +racing stables; but there, you see, I hate yachting because I'm always +sea-sick, and I scarcely know which end of a horse you put the bridle +on. Every man to his job. This is mine. I like it.” + +“I wonder whether holding down people suffering from _delirium tremens_ +is my job,” said I. “If so, I'm afraid I shan't like it.” + +“If it's really your job,” replied Campion, “you will. You must. You +can't help it. God made man so.” + +It was only an hour or two later when, for the first time in my life, I +came into practical touch with human misery, that I recognised the truth +of Campion's perfervid optimism. No one could like our task that night +in its outer essence. For a time it revolted me. The atmosphere of +the close, dirty room, bedroom, kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, +bathroom, laundry--all in one, the home of man, wife and two children, +caught me by the throat. It was sour. The physical contact with the +flesh of the unclean, gibbering, shivering, maniacal brute on the foul +bed was unutterably repugnant to me. Now and again, during intervals +of comparative calm, I was forced to put my head out of the window to +breathe the air of the street. Even that was tainted, for a fried-fish +shop across the way and a public-house next door billowed forth their +nauseating odours. After a while access to the window was denied me. +A mattress and some rude coverings were stretched beneath it--the +children's bed--on which we persuaded the helpless, dreary wife to lie +down and try to rest. A neighbour had taken in the children for the +night. The wife was a skinny, grey-faced, lined woman of six-and-twenty. +In her attitude of hopeless incompetence she shed around her an +atmosphere of unspeakable depression. Although I could not get to the +window, I was glad when she lay down and spared me the sight of +her moving fecklessly about the room or weeping huddled up on a +broken-backed wooden chair and looking more like a half-animated +dish-clout than a woman. + +The poor wretch on the bed was a journeyman tailor who, when sober, +could earn fair wages. The cry of the wife, before Campion awed her +into comparative silence, was a monotonous upbraiding of her husband for +bringing them down to this poverty. It seemed impossible to touch her +intelligence and make her understand that no words from her or any one +could reach his consciousness. His violence, his screams, his threats, +the horrors of his fear left her unmoved. We were there to guard her +from physical danger, and that to her was all that mattered. + +In the course of an hour or so the nausea left me. I felt braced by the +grimness of the thing, and during the paroxysms I had no time to think +of anything but the mechanical work in hand. It was all that Campion and +I, both fairly able-bodied men, could do to keep the puny little tailor +in his bed. Horrible shapes menaced him from which he fought madly to +escape. He writhed and shrieked with terror. Once he caught my hand in +his teeth and bit it, and Campion had some difficulty in relaxing +the wretch's jaw. Between the paroxysms Campion and I sat on the bed +watching him, scarcely exchanging a word. The wife, poor creature, +whimpered on her mattress. It was not a pleasant vigil. It lasted till +the grey dawn crept in, pitilessly intensifying the squalor of the room, +and until the dawn was broadening into daylight. Then two of Campion's +men from Barbara's Building arrived to relieve us. Before we went, +however, the neighbour who had taken charge of the children came in to +help the slatternly wife light a fire and make some tea. I have enjoyed +few things more than the warm, bitter stuff which I drank out of the +broken mug in that strange and depressing company. + +I went out into the street with racked head and nerves and muscles. +Campion kept his cloth cap in his hand, allowing the morning wind to +ruffle his shaggy black hair, and drew a long breath. + +“I think the worst is over now. As soon as he can be moved, I'll get him +down to the annexe at Broadstairs. The sea air will pull him round.” + +“Isn't it rather hopeless?” I asked. + +He turned on me. “Nothing's hopeless. If you once start the hopeless +game down here you'd better distribute cyanide of potassium instead of +coals and groceries. I've made up my mind to get that man decent again, +and, by George, I'm going to do it! Fancy those two weaklings producing +healthy offspring. But they have. Two of the most intelligent kids +in the district. If you hold up your hands and say it's awful to +contemplate their upbringing you're speaking the blatant truth. It's +the contemplation that's awful. But why contemplate when you can do +something?” + +I admitted the justice of the remark. He went on. + +“Look at yourself now. If you had gone in with me last night and just +stared at the poor devil howling with D.T. in that filthy place, you'd +have come out sick and said it was awful. Instead of that, you buckled +to and worked and threw off everything save our common humanity, and +have got interested in the Judds in spite of yourself. You'll go and see +them again and do what you can for them, won't you?” + +I was not in a merry mood, but I laughed. Campion had read the intention +that had vaguely formulated itself in the back of my mind. + +“Of course I will,” I said. + +We walked on a few steps down the still silent, disheartening street +without speaking. Then he tugged his beard, half-halted, and glanced at +me quickly. + +“See here,” said he, “the more sensible people I can get in to help +us the better. Would you like me to hand you over the Judd family _en +bloc_?” + +This was startling to the amateur philanthropist. But it is the way of +all professionals to regard their own business as of absorbing interest +to the outside world. The stockbroking mind cannot conceive a sane +man indifferent to the fluctuations of the money market, and to the +professional cricketer the wide earth revolves around a wicket. How in +the world could I be fairy godfather to the Judd family? Campion took my +competence for granted. + +“You may not understand exactly what I mean, my dear Campion,” said +I; “but I attribute the most unholy disasters of my life to a ghastly +attempt of mine to play Deputy Providence.” + +“But who's asking you to play Deputy Providence?” he shouted. “It's the +very last idiot thing I want done. I want you to do certain definite +practical work for that family under the experienced direction of the +authorities at Barbara's Building. There, do you understand now?” + +“Very well, I'll do anything you like.” + +Thus it befell that I undertook to look after the moral, material, and +spiritual welfare of the family of an alcoholic tailor by the name of +Judd who dwelt in a vile slum in South Lambeth. My head was full of the +prospect when I awoke at noon, for I had gone exhausted to sleep as soon +as I reached home. If goodwill, backed by the experience of Barbara's +Building, could do aught towards the alleviation of human misery, I +determined that it should be done. And there was much misery to be +alleviated in the Judd family. I had no clear notion of the means +whereby I was to accomplish this; but I knew that it would be a +philanthropic pursuit far different from my previous eumoirous +wanderings abut London when, with a mind conscious of well-doing, I +distributed embarrassing five-pound notes to the poor and needy. + +I had known--what comfortable, well-fed gentleman does not?--that within +easy walking distance of his London home thousands of human beings live +like the beasts that perish; but never before had I spent an intimate +night in one of the foul dens where the living and perishing take place. +The awful pity of it entered my soul. + +So deeply was I impressed with the responsibility of what I had +undertaken, so grimly was I haunted by the sight of the pallid, howling +travesty of a man and the squeezed-out, whimpering woman, that the +memory of the conflicting emotions that had driven me to Campion the +night before returned to me with a shock. + +“It strikes me,” I murmured, as I shaved, “that I am living very +intensely indeed. Here am I in love with two women at once, and almost +hysterically enthusiastic over a delirious tailor.” Then I cut my cheek +and murmured no more, until the operation was concluded. + +I had arranged to accompany Lola that afternoon to the Zoological +Gardens. This was a favourite resort of hers. She was on intimate terms +with keepers and animals, and her curious magnetism allowed her to play +such tricks with lions and tigers and other ferocious beasts as made +my blood run cold. As for the bears, they greeted her approach with +shrieking demonstrations of affection. On such occasions I felt the same +curious physical antipathy as I did when she had dominated Anastasius's +ill-conditioned cat. She seemed to enter another sphere of being in +which neither I nor anything human had a place. + +With some such dim thoughts in my head, I reached her door in Cadogan +Gardens. The sight of her electric brougham that stood waiting switched +my thoughts into another groove, but one running oddly parallel. +Electric broughams also carried her out of my sphere. I had humbly +performed the journey thither in an omnibus. + +She received me in her big, expansive way. + +“Lord! How good it is to see you. I was getting the--I was going to say +'the blind hump'--but you don't like it. I was going to turn crazy and +bite the furniture.” + +“Why?” I asked with masculine directness. + +“I've been trying to educate myself--to read poetry. Look here”--she +caught a small brown-covered octavo volume from the table. “I can't make +head or tail of it. It proved to me that it was no use. If I couldn't +understand poetry, I couldn't understand anything. It was no good trying +to educate myself. I gave it up. And then I got what you don't like me +to call the hump.” + +“You dear Lola!” I cried, laughing. “I don't believe any one has ever +made head or tail out of 'Sordello.' There once was a man who said +there were only two intelligible lines in the poem--the first and the +last--and that both were lies. 'Who will, may hear Sordello's story +told,' and 'Who would, has heard Sordello's story told.' Don't worry +about not understanding it.” + +“Don't you?” + +“Not a bit,” said I. + +“That's a comfort,” she said, with a generous sigh of relief. “How well +you're looking!” she cried suddenly. “You're a different man. What have +you been doing to yourself?” + +“I've grown quite alive.” + +“Good! Delightful! So am I. Quite alive now, thank you.” + +She looked it, in spite of the black outdoor costume. But there was a +dash of white at her throat and some white lilies of the valley in +her bosom, and a white feather in her great black hat poised with a +Gainsborough swagger on the mass of her bronze hair. + +“It's the spring,” she added. + +“Yes,” said I, “it's the spring.” + +She approached me and brushed a few specks of dust from my shoulder. + +“You want a new suit of clothes, Simon.” + +“Dear me!” said I, glancing hastily over the blue serge suit in which I +had lounged at Mustapha Superieur. “I suppose I do.” + +It occurred to me that my wardrobe generally needed replenishing. I had +been unaccustomed to think of these things, the excellent Rogers and his +predecessors having done most of the thinking for me. + +“I'll go to Poole's at once,” said I. + +And then it struck me, to my whimsical dismay, that in the present +precarious state of my finances, especially in view of my decision to +abandon political journalism in favour of I knew not what occupation, I +could not afford to order clothes largely from a fashionable tailor. + +“I shouldn't have mentioned it,” said Lola apologetically, “but you're +always so spick and span.” + +“And now I'm getting shabby!” + +I threw back my head and laughed at the new and comical conception of +Simon de Gex down at heel. + +“Oh, not shabby!” echoed Lola. + +“Yes, my dear. The days of purple and fine linen are _vorbei_. You'll +have to put up with me in a threadbare coat and frayed cuffs and ragged +hems to my trousers.” + +Lola declared that I was talking rubbish. + +“Not quite such rubbish as you may think, my dear. Shall you mind?” + +“It would break my heart. But why do you talk so? You can't be--as +poor--as that?” + +Her face manifested such tragic concern that I laughed. Besides, the +idea of personal poverty amused me. When I gave up my political work +I should only have what I had saved from my wreck--some two hundred a +year--to support me until I should find some other means of livelihood. +It was enough to keep me from starvation, and the little economies I had +begun to practise afforded me enjoyment. On the other hand, how folks +regulated their balance-sheets so as to live on two hundred a year I had +but a dim notion. In the course of our walk from Barbara's Building to +the Judds the night before I had asked Campion. He had laughed somewhat +grimly. + +“I don't know. I don't run an asylum for spendthrift plutocrats; but if +you want to see how people live and bring up large families on fifteen +shillings a week, I can show you heaps of examples.” + +This I felt would, in itself, be knowledge of the deepest interest; but +it would in no way aid me to solve my own economic difficulty. I was +always being brought up suddenly against the problem in some form or +another, and, as I say, it caused me considerable amusement. + +“I shall go on happily enough,” said I, reassuringly. “In the meantime +let us go and see the lions and tigers.” + +We started. The electric brougham glided along comfortably through the +sunlit streets. A feeling of physical and spiritual content stole over +me. Our hands met and lingered a long time in a sympathetic clasp. +Whatever fortune held in store for me here at least I had an inalienable +possession. For some time we said nothing, and when our eyes met she +smiled. I think she had never felt my heart so near to hers. At last we +broke the silence and talked of ordinary things. I told her of my vigil +overnight and my undertaking to look after the Judds. She listened +with great interest. When I had finished my tale, she said almost +passionately: + +“Oh, I wish I could do something like that!” + +“You?” + +“Why not? I came from those people. My grandfather swept the cages in +Jamrach's down by the docks. He died of drink. He used to live in one +horrible, squalid room near by. I remember my father taking me to see +him when I was a little girl--we ourselves weren't very much better off +at that time. I've been through it,” she shivered. “I know what that +awful poverty is. Sometimes it seems immoral of me to live luxuriously +as I do now without doing a hand's turn to help.” + +“_Chacun a son metier_, my dear,” said I. “There's no need to reproach +yourself.” + +“But I think it might be my _metier_,” she replied earnestly, “if only I +could learn it.” + +“Why haven't you tried, then?” + +“I've been lazy and the opportunity hasn't come my way.” + +“I'll introduce you to Campion,” I said, “and doubtless he'll be able to +find something for you to do. He has made a science of the matter. I'll +take you down to see him.” + +“Will you?” + +“Certainly,” said I. There was a pause. Then an idea struck me. “I +wonder, my dear Lola, whether you could apply that curious power you +have over savage animals to the taming of the more brutal of humans.” + +“I wonder,” she said thoughtfully. + +“I should like to see you seize a drunken costermonger in the act of +jumping on his wife by the scruff of the neck, and reduce him to such +pulp that he sat up on his tail and begged.” + +“Oh, Simon!” she exclaimed reproachfully. “I quite thought you were +serious.” + +“So I am, my dear,” I returned quickly, “as serious as I can be.” + +She laughed. “Do you remember the first day you came to see me? You said +that I could train any human bear to dance to whatever tune I pleased. I +wonder if the same thought was at the back of your head.” + +“It wasn't. It was a bad and villainous thought. I came under the +impression that you were a dangerous seductress.” + +“And I'm not?” + +Oh, that spring day, that delicious tingle in the air, that laughing +impertinence of the budding trees in the park through which we were then +driving, that enveloping sense of fragrance and the nearness and the +dearness of her! Oh, that overcharge of vitality! I leaned my head to +hers so that my lips nearly touched her ear. My voice shook. + +“You're a seductress and a witch and a sorcerer and an enchantress.” + +The blood rose to her dark face. She half closed her eyes. + +“What else am I?” she murmured. + +But, alas! I had not time to answer, for the brougham stopped at the +gates of the Zoological Gardens. We both awakened from our foolishness. +My hand was on the door-handle when she checked me. + +“What's the good of a mind if you can't change it? I don't feel in a +mood for wild beasts to-day, and I know you don't care to see me fooling +about with them. I would much rather sit quiet and talk to you.” + +With a woman who wants to sacrifice herself there is no disputing. +Besides, I had no desire to dispute. I acquiesced. We agreed to continue +our drive. + +“We'll go round by Hampstead Heath,” she said to the chauffeur. As soon +as we were in motion again, she drew ever so little nearer and said, in +her lowest, richest notes, and with a coquetry that was bewildering on +account of its frankness: + +“What were we talking of before we pulled up?” + +“I don't know what we were talking of,” I said, “but we seem to have +trodden on the fringe of a fairy-tale.” + +“Can't we tread on it again?” She laughed happily. + +“You have only to cast the spell of your witchery over me again.” + +She drew yet a little nearer and whispered: “I'm trying to do it as hard +as I can.” + +An adorable softness came into her eyes, and her hand instinctively +closed round mine in its boneless clasp. The long pent-up longing of +the woman vibrated from her in waves that shook me to my soul. My senses +swam. Her face quivered glorious before me in a black world. Her lips +were parted. Careless of all the eyes in all the houses in the Avenue +Road, St. John's Wood, and in the head of a telegraph boy whom I only +noticed afterwards, I kissed her on the lips. + +All the fulness and strength of life danced through my veins. + +“I told you I was quite alive!” I said with idiotic exultation. + +She closed her eyes and leaned back. “Why did you do that?” she +murmured. + +“Because I love you,” said I. “It has come at last.” + +Where we drove I have no recollection. Presumably an impression of green +rolling plain with soft uplands in the distance signified that we passed +along Hampstead Heath; the side thoroughfare with villa residences on +either side may have been Kilburn High Road; the flourishing, busy, +noisy suburb may have been Kilburn: the street leading thence to +the Marble Arch may have been Maida Vale. To me they were paths in +Dreamland. We spoke but little and what we did say was in the simple, +commonplace language which all men use in the big crises of life. + +There was no doubt now of my choice. I loved her. Love had come to me at +last. That was all I knew at that hour and all I cared to know. + +Lola was the first to awake from Dreamland. She shivered. I asked +whether she felt cold. + +“No. I can't believe that you love me. I can't. I can't.” + +I smiled in a masterful way. “I can soon show you that I do.” + +She shook her head. “I'm afraid, Simon, I'm afraid.” + +“What of?” + +“Myself.” + +“Why?” + +“I can't tell you. I can't explain. I don't know how to. I've been +wrong--horribly wrong. I'm ashamed.” + +She gripped her hands together and looked down at them. I bent forward +so as to see her face, which was full of pain. + +“But, dearest of all women,” I cried, “what in the world have you to be +ashamed of?” + +She paused, moistened her lips with her tongue, and then broke out: + +“I'll tell you. A decent lady like your Eleanor Faversham wouldn't tell. +But I can't keep these things in. Didn't you begin by saying I was a +seductress? No, no, let me talk. Didn't you say I could make a man do +what I wanted? Well, I wanted you to kiss me. And now you've done it, +you think you love me; but you don't, you can't.” + +“You're talking the wickedest nonsense that ever proceeded out of the +lips of a loving woman,” I said aghast. “I repeat in the most solemn way +that I love you with all my heart.” + +“In common decency you couldn't say otherwise.” + +Again I saw the futility of disputation. I put my hand on hers. + +“Time will show, dear. At any rate, we have had our hour of fairyland.” + +“I wish we hadn't,” she said. “Don't you see it was only my sorcery, as +you call it, that took us there? I meant us to go.” + +At last we reached Cadogan Gardens. I descended and handed her out, and +we entered the hall of the mansions. The porter stood with the lift-door +open. + +“I'm coming up to knock all this foolishness out of your head.” + +“No, don't, please, for Heaven's sake!” she whispered imploringly. “I +must be alone--to think it all out. It's only because I love you so. And +don't come to see me for a day or two--say two days. This is Wednesday. +Come on Friday. You think it over as well. And if it's really true--I'll +know then--when you come. Good-bye, dear. Make Gray drive you wherever +you want to go.” + +She wrung my hand, turned and entered the lift. The gates swung to and +she mounted out of sight. I went slowly back to the brougham, and gave +the chauffeur the address of my eyrie. He touched his hat. I got in +and we drove off. And then, for the first time, it struck me that an +about-to-be-shabby gentleman with a beggarly two hundred a year, ought +not, in spite of his quarterings, to be contemplating marriage with a +wealthy woman who kept an electric brougham. The thought hit me like a +stone in the midriff. + +What on earth was to be done? My pride rose up like the _deux ex +machina_ in the melodrama and forbade the banns. To live on Lola's +money--the idea was intolerable. Equally intolerable was the idea +of earning an income by means against the honesty of which my soul +clamoured aloud. + +“Good God!” I cried. “Is life, now I've got to it, nothing but an +infinite series of dilemmas? No sooner am I off one than I'm on another. +No sooner do I find that Lola and not Eleanor Faversham is the +woman sent down by Heaven to be my mate than I realise the same old +dilemma--Lola on one horn and Eleanor replaced on the other by Pride +and Honour and all sorts of capital-lettered considerations. Life is +the very Deuce,” said I, with a wry appreciation of the subtlety of +language. + +Why did Lola say: “Your Eleanor Faversham?” + +I had enough to think over for the rest of the evening. But I slept +peacefully. Light loves had come and gone in the days past; but now for +the first time love that was not light had come into my life. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +“The Lord will find a way out of the dilemma,” said I confidently to +myself as I neared Cadogan Gardens two days after the revelatory drive. +“Lola is in love with me and I am in love with Lola, and there is +nothing to keep us apart but my pride over a matter of a few +ha'-pence.” I felt peculiarly jaunty. I had just posted to Finch the +last of the articles I had agreed to write for his reactionary review, +and only a couple of articles for another journal remained to be written +in order to complete my literary engagements. Soon I should be out of +the House of Bondage in which I had been a slave, at first willingly and +now rebelliously, from my cradle. The great wide world with its infinite +opportunities for development received my liberated spirit. I had broken +the shackles of caste. I had thrown off the perfumed garments of +epicureanism, the vesture of my servitude. My emotions, once stifled in +the enervating atmosphere, now awake fresh and strong in the free air. I +was elemental--the man wanting the woman; and I was happy because I knew +I was going to get her. Such must be the state of being of a dragonfly +on a sunny day. And--shall I confess it?--I had obeyed the dragon-fly's +instinct and attired myself in the most resplendent raiment in my +wardrobe. My morning coat was still irreproachable, my patent leather +boots still gleamed, and having had some business in Piccadilly I had +stepped into my hatter's and emerged with my silk hat newly ironed. I +positively strutted along the pavement. + +For two days I had not seen her or heard from her or written to her. I +had scrupulously respected her wishes, foolish though they were. Now I +was on my way to convince her that my love was not a moment's surge of +the blood on a spring afternoon. I would take her into my arms at once, +after the way of men, and she, after the way of women, would yield +adorably. I had no doubt of it. I tasted in anticipation the bliss of +that first embrace as if I had never kissed a woman in my life. And, +indeed, what woman had I kissed with the passion that now ran through +my veins? In that embrace all the ghosts of the past women would be laid +for ever and a big and lusty future would make glorious beginning. “By +Heaven,” I cried, almost articulately, “with the splendour of the world +at my command why should I not write plays, novels, poems, rhapsodies, +so as to tell the blind, groping, loveless people what it is like? + +“Take me up to Madame Brandt!” said I to the lift-porter. “Madame Brandt +is not in town, sir,” said the man. + +I looked at him open-mouthed. “Not in town?” + +“I think she has gone abroad, sir. She left with a lot of luggage +yesterday, and her maid, and now the flat is shut up.” + +“Impossible!” I cried aghast. + +The porter smiled. “I can only tell you what has happened, sir.” + +“Where has she gone to?” + +“I couldn't say, sir.” + +“Her letters? Has she left no address to which they are to be +forwarded?” + +“Not with me, sir.” + +“Did she say when she was coming back?” + +“No, sir. But she dismissed her cook with a month's wages, so it seems +as though she was gone for a good spell.” + +“What time yesterday did she leave?” + +“After lunch. The cabman was to drive her to Victoria--London, Chatham +and Dover Railway.” + +“That looks like the 2.20 to Paris,” said I. + +But the lift-porter knew nothing of this. He had given me all the +information in his power. I thanked him and went out into the sunshine a +blinking, dazed, bewildered and piteously crushed man. + +She had gone, without drum or trumpet, maid and baggage and all, having +dismissed her cook and shut up the flat. It was incredible. I wandered +aimlessly about Chelsea trying to make up my mind what to do. Should I +go to Paris and bring her back by main force? But how did I know that +she had gone to Paris? And if she was there how could I discover her +address? Suddenly an idea struck me. She would not have left Quast and +the cattery in the same unceremonious fashion to get on as best they +might. She would have given Quast money and directions. At any rate, he +would know more than the lift-porter of the mansions. I decided to go to +him forthwith. + +By means of trains and omnibuses I arrived at the house in the little +street off Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, where the maker of gymnastic +appliances had his being. I knocked at the door. A grubby man appeared. +I inquired for Quast. + +Quast had left that morning in a van, taking his cages of cats with him. +He had gone abroad and was never coming back again, not if he knew +it, said the grubby man. The cats were poison and Quast was a low-down +foreigner, and it would cost him a year's rent to put the place in order +again. Whereupon he slammed the door in my face and left me disconsolate +on the doorstep. + +The only other person with whom I knew Lola to be on friendly terms was +Sir Joshua Oldfield. I entered the first public telephone office I +came to and rang him up. He had not seen Lola for a week, and had heard +nothing from her relating to her sudden departure. I went sadly home +to my bird-cage in Victoria Street, feeling that now at last the +abomination of desolation had overspread my life. + +Why had she gone? What was the meaning of it? Why not a line of +explanation? And the simultaneous disappearance of Quast and the +cats--what did that betoken? Had she been summoned, for any reason, to +the Maison de Sante, where Anastasius Papadopoulos was incarcerated? If +so, why this secrecy? Why should Lola of all people side with Destiny +and make a greater Tom Fool of me than ever? This could be no other than +the final jest. + +I do not care to remember what I did and said in the privacy of my +little room. There are things a man locks away even from himself. + +I was in the midst of my misery when the bell of my tiny flat rang. I +opened the door and found my sister Agatha smiling on the threshold. + +“Hallo!” said I, gazing at her stupidly. + +“You're not effusive in your welcome, my dear Simon,” she remarked. +“Won't you ask me to come in?” + +“By all means,” said I. “Come in!” + +She entered and looked round my little sitting-room. “What a pill-box in +the sky! I had no idea it was as tiny as this. I think I shall call you +Saint Simon Stylites.” + +I was in no mood for Agatha. I bowed ironically and inquired to what I +owed the honour of the visit. + +“I want you to do me a favour--a great favour. I'm dying to see the new +dances at the Palace Theatre. They say they dance on everything except +their feet. I've got a box. Tom promised to take me. Now he finds he +can't. I've telephoned all over the place for something uncompromising +in or out of trousers to accompany me and I can't get hold of anybody. +So I've come to you.” + +“I'm vastly flattered!” said I. + +She dismissed my sarcasm with bird-like impatience. + +“Don't be silly. If I had thought you would like it, I should have come +to you first. I didn't want to bore you. But I did think you would pull +me out of a hole.” + +“What's a hole?” I asked. + +“I've paid for a box and I can't go by myself. How can I? Do take me, +there's a dear.” + +“I'm afraid I'm too dull for haunts of merriment,” said I. + +She regarded me reproachfully. + +“It isn't often I ask you to put yourself out for me. The last time +was when I asked you to be the baby's godfather. And a pretty godfather +you've been. I bet you anything you don't remember the name.” + +“I do,” said I. + +“What's it then?” + +“It's--it's----” I snapped my fingers. The brat's name had for the +moment gone out of my distracted head. She broke into a laugh and ran +her arm through mine. + +“Dorcas.” + +“Yes, of course--Dorcas. I was going to say so.” + +“Then you were going to say wrong, for it's Dorothy. Now you _must_ +come--for the sake of penance.” + +“I'll do anything you please!” I cried in desperation, “so long as +you'll not talk to me of my own affairs and will let me sit as glum as +ever I choose.” + +Then for the first time she manifested some interest in my mood. She put +her head to one side and scanned my face narrowly. + +“What's the matter, Simon?” + +“I've absorbed too much life the last few days,” said I, “and now I've +got indigestion.” + +“I'm sorry, dear old boy, whatever it is,” she said affectionately. +“Come round and dine at 7.30, and I promise not to worry you.” + +What could I do? I accepted. The alternative to procuring Agatha an +evening's amusement was pacing up and down my bird-cage and beating my +wings (figuratively) and perhaps my head (literally) against the bars. + +“It's awfully sweet of you,” said Agatha. “Now I'll rush home and +dress.” + +I accompanied her down the lift to the front door, and attended her to +her carriage. + +“I'll do you a good turn some day, dear,” she said as she drove off. + +I rather flatter myself that Agatha had no reason to complain of my +dulness at dinner. In my converse with her I was faced by various +alternatives. I might lay bare my heart, tell her of my love for Lola +and my bewildered despair at her desertion; this I knew she would no +more understand than if I had proclaimed a mad passion for a young lady +who had waited on me at a tea-shop, or for a cassowary at the Zoo; +even the best and most affectionate of sisters have their sympathetic +limitations. I might have maintained a mysterious and Byronic gloom; +this would have been sheer bad manners. I might have attributed my lack +of spontaneous gaiety to toothache or stomach-ache; this would have +aroused sisterly and matronly sympathies, and I should have had the +devil's own job to escape from the house unpoisoned by the nostrums that +lurk in the medicine chest of every well-conducted family. Agatha, I +knew, had a peculiarly Borgiaesque equipment. Lastly, there was the +worldly device, which I adopted, of dissimulating the furnace of my +affliction beneath a smiling exterior. Agatha, therefore, found me +an entertaining guest and drove me to the Palace Theatre in high good +humour. + +There, however, I could resign my role of entertainer in favour of the +professionals on the stage. I sat back in my corner of the box and gave +myself up to my harassing concerns. Young ladies warbled, comic acrobats +squirted siphons at each other and kicked each other in the stomach, +jugglers threw plates and brass balls with dizzying skill, the famous +dancers gyrated pyrotechnically, the house applauded with delight, +Agatha laughed and chuckled and clapped her hands and I remained silent, +unnoticed and unnoticing in my reflective corner, longing for the +foolery to end. Where was Lola? Why had she forsaken me? What remedy, in +the fiend's name, was there for this heart torture within me? The most +excruciating agonies of the little pain inside were child's play to +this. I bit my lips so as not to groan aloud and contorted my features +into the semblance of a smile. + +During a momentary interval there came a knock at the box door. I said, +“Come in!” The door opened, and there, to my utter amazement, stood +Dale Kynnersley--Dale, sleek, alert, smiling, attired in the very latest +nicety of evening dress affected by contemporary youth--Dale such as I +knew and loved but six months ago. + +He came forward to Agatha, who was little less astounded than myself. + +“How d'ye do, Lady Durrell? I'm in the stalls with Harry Essendale. I +tried to catch your eye, but couldn't. So I thought I'd come up.” He +turned to me with frank outstretched hand, “How do, Simon?” + +I grasped his hand and murmured something unintelligible. The thing +was so extraordinary, so unexpected that my wits went wandering. Dale +carried off the situation lightly. It was he who was the man of the +world, and I the unresourceful stumbler. + +“He's looking ripping, isn't he, Lady Durrell? I met old Oldfield the +other day, and he was raving about your case. The thing has never been +done before. Says they're going mad over your chap in Paris--they've +given him medals and wreaths and decorations till he goes about like a +prize bull at a fair. By Jove, it's good to see you again.” + +“You might have taken an earlier opportunity,” Agatha remarked with some +acidity. + +“So I might,” retorted Dale blandly; “but when a man's a born ass it +takes him some time to cultivate sense! I've been wanting to see you for +a long time, Simon--and to-night I just couldn't resist it. You don't +want to kick me out?” + +“Heaven forbid,” said I, somewhat brokenly, for the welcome sight of his +face and the sound of his voice aroused emotions which even now I do not +care to analyse. “It was generous of you to come up.” + +He coloured. “Rot!” said he, in his breezy way. “Hallo! The curtain's +going up. What's the next item? Oh, those fool dogs!” + +“I adore performing dogs!” said Agatha, looking toward the stage. + +He turned to me. “Do you?” + +The last thing on earth I desired to behold at that moment was a +performing animal. My sensitiveness led me to suspect a quizzical look +in Dale's eye. Fortunately, he did not wait for my answer, but went on +in a boyish attempt to appease Agatha. + +“I don't despise them, you know, Lady Durrell, but I've seen them twice +before. They're really rather good. There's a football match at the end +which is quite exciting.” + +“Oh, the beauties!” cried Agatha over her shoulder as the dogs trotted +on the stage. I nodded an acknowledgment of the remark, and she plunged +into rapt contemplation of the act. Dale and I stood at the back of the +box. Suddenly he whispered: + +“Come out into the corridor. I've something to say to you.” + +“Certainly,” said I, and followed him out of the box. + +He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked at me with the defiant +and you-be-damned air of the young Briton who was about to commit a +gracious action. I knew what he was going to say. I could tell by his +manner. I dreaded it, and yet I loved him for it. + +“Why say anything, my dear boy?” I asked. “You want to be friends with +me again, and God knows I want to be friends again with you. Why talk?” + +“I've got to get if off my chest,” said he, in his so familiar +vernacular. “I want to tell you that I've been every end of a silly ass +and I want you to forgive me.” + +I vow I have never felt so miserably guilty towards any human being as +I did at that moment. I have never felt such a smug-faced hypocrite. +It was a humiliating position. I had inflicted on him a most grievous +wrong, and here he was pleading for forgiveness. I could not pronounce +the words of pardon. He misinterpreted my silence. + +“I know I've behaved rottenly to you since you've been back, but the +first step's always so difficult. You mustn't bear a grudge against me.” + +“My dear boy!” I cried, my hand on his shoulder, touched to the heart +by his simple generosity, “don't let us talk of grudges and forgiveness. +All I want to know is whether you're contented?” + +“Contented?” he cried. “I should just think I am. I'm the happiest ass +that doesn't eat thistles!” + +“Explain yourself, my dear Dale,” said I, relapsing into my old manner. + +“I'm going to marry Maisie Ellerton.” + +I took him by the arm and dragged him inside the box. + +“Agatha,” said I, “leave those confounded dogs for a moment and attend +to serious matters. This young man has not come up to see either of us, +but to obtain our congratulations. He's going to marry Maisie Ellerton.” + +“Tell me all about it,” said Agatha intensely interested. + +A load of responsibility rolled off my shoulders like Christian's pack. +I looked at the dog football match with the interest of a Sheffield +puddler at a Cup-tie, and clapped my hands. + +An hour or so later after we had seen Agatha home, and Dale had +incidentally chucked Lord Essendale (the phrase is his own), we were +sitting over whisky and soda and cigars in my Victoria Street flat. The +ingenuousness of youth had insisted on this prolongation of our meeting. +He had a thousand things to tell me. They chiefly consisted in a +reiteration of the statement that he had been a rampant and unimagined +silly ass, and that Maisie, who knew the whole lunatic story, was a +brick, and a million times too good for him. When he entered my humble +lodging he looked round in a bewildered manner. + +“Why on earth are you living in this mouse-trap?” + +“Agatha calls it a pill-box. I call it a bird-cage. I live here, my dear +boy, because it is the utmost I can afford.” + +“Rot! I've been your private secretary and know what your income is.” + +I sighed heavily. I shall have to get a leaflet printed setting out the +causes that led to my change of fortune. Then I can hand it to such of +my friends as manifest surprise. + +Indeed, I had grown so used to the story of my lamentable pursuit of +the eumoirous that I rattled it off mechanically after the manner of the +sturdy beggar telling his mendacious tale of undeserved misfortune. To +Dale, however, it was fresh. He listened to it open-eyed. When I had +concluded, he brought his hand down on the arm of the chair. + +“By Jove, you're splendid! I always said you were. Just splendid!” + +He gulped down half a tumbler of whisky and soda to hide his feelings. + +“And you've been doing all this while I've been making a howling fool +of myself! Look here, Simon, you were right all along the line--from the +very first when you tackled me about Lola. Do you remember?” + +“Why refer to it?” I asked. + +“I must!” he burst in quickly. “I've been longing to put myself square +with you. By the way, where is Lola?” + +“I don't know,” said I with grim truthfulness. + +“Don't know? Has she vanished?” + +“Yes,” said I. + +“That's the end of it, I suppose. Poor Lola! She was an awfully good +sort you know!” said Dale, “and I won't deny I was hit. That's when I +came such a cropper. But I realise now how right you were. I was just +caught by the senses, nothing else; and when she wrote to say it was all +off between us my vanity suffered--suffered damnably, old chap. I lost +the election through it. Didn't attend to business. That brought me to +my senses. Then Essendale took me away yachting, and I had a quiet time +to think; and after that I somehow took to seeing more of Maisie. You +know how things happen. And I'm jolly grateful to you, old chap. You've +saved me from God knows what complications! After all, good sort as Lola +is, it's rot for a man to go outside his own class, isn't it?” + +“It depends upon the man--and also the woman,” said I, beginning to +derive peculiar torture from the conversation. + +Dale shook his wise head. “It never comes off,” said he. After a pause +he laughed aloud. “Don't you remember the lecture you gave me? My word, +you did talk! You produced a string of ghastly instances where the +experiment had failed. Let me see, who was there, Paget, Merridew, +Bullen. Ha! Ha! No, I'm well out of it, old chap--thanks to you.” + +“If any good has come of this sorry business,” said I gravely, “I'm only +too grateful to Providence.” + +He caught the seriousness of my tone. + +“I didn't want to touch on that side of it,” he said awkwardly. “I know +what an infernal time you had! It must have been Gehenna. I realise +now that it was on my account, and so I can never do enough to show my +gratitude.” + +He finished his glass of whisky and walked about the tiny room. + +“What has always licked me,” he said at length, “is why she never told +me she was married. It's so curious, for she was as straight as they +make them. It's devilish odd!” + +“Yes,” I assented wearily, for every word of this talk was a new pain. +“Devilish odd!” + +“I suppose it's a question of class again.” + +“Or sex,” said I. + +“What has sex to do with being straight?” + +“Everything,” said I. + +“Rot!” said Dale. + +I sighed. “I wish your dialectical vocabulary were not so limited.” + +He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. + +“Still the same old Simon. It does my heart good to hear you. May I have +another whisky?” + +I took advantage of this break to change the conversation. He had +told me nothing of his own affairs save that he was engaged to Maisie +Ellerton. + +“Heavens!” cried he. “Isn't that enough?” + +“An engagement isn't an occupation.” + +“Isn't it, by Jove?” He laughed boyishly. “I manage, however, to squeeze +in a bit of work now and then. The mater has always got plenty on hand +for me, and I do things for Raggles. He has been awfully decent. The +first time I met him or any of the chiefs after the election I was in a +blue funk. But no one seemed to blame me; they all said they were sorry; +and now Raggles is looking out for a constituency for me to nurse for +the next General Election. Then things _will_ hum, I promise you!” + +He waved his cigar with the air of a young paladin about to conquer +the world. In spite of my own depression, I could not help smiling with +gladness at the sight of him. With his extravagantly cut waistcoat, his +elaborately exquisite white tie, his perfectly fitting evening clothes, +with his supple ease of body, his charming manner, the preposterous +fellow made as gallant a show as any ruffling blade in powder and +red-heeled shoes. He had acquired, too, an extra touch of manhood since +I had seen him last. I felt proud of him, conscious that to the making +of him I had to some small degree contributed. + +“You must come out and lunch with Maisie and me one day this week,” said +he. “She would love to see you.” + +“Wait till you're married,” said I, “and then we'll consider it. At +present Maisie is under the social dominion of her parents.” + +“Well--what of it?” + +“Just that,” said I. + +Then the truth dawned on him. He grew excited and said it was damnable. +He wasn't going to stand by and see people believe a lot of scandalous +lies about me. He had no idea people had given me the cold shoulder. He +would jolly well (such were his words) take a something (I forget the +adjective) megaphone and trumpet about society what a splendid fellow I +was. + +“I'll tell everybody the whole silly-ass story about myself from +beginning to end,” he declared. + +I checked him. “You're very generous, my dear boy,” said I, “but you'll +do me a favour by letting folks believe what they like.” And then I +explained, as delicately as I could, how his sudden championship could +be of little advantage to me, and might do him considerable harm. + +In his impetuous manner he cut short my carefully-expressed argument. + +“Rubbish! Heaps of people I know are already convinced that I was +keeping Lola Brandt and that you took her from me in the ordinary vulgar +way--” + +“Yes, yes,” I interrupted, shrinking. “That's why I order you, in God's +name, to leave the whole thing alone.” + +“But confound it, man! I've come out of it all right, why shouldn't you? +Even supposing Lola was a loose woman--” + +I threw up my hand. “Stop!” + +He looked disconcerted for a moment. + +“We know she isn't, but for the sake of argument--” + +“Don't argue,” said I. “Let us drop it.” + +“But hang it all!” he shouted in desperation. “Can't I do something! +Can't I go and kick somebody?” + +I lost my self-control. I rose and put both my hands on his shoulders +and looked him in the eyes. + +“You can kick anybody you please whom you hear breathe a word against +the honour and purity of Madame Lola Brandt.” + +Then I walked away, knowing I had betrayed myself, and tried to light +a cigar with fingers that shook. There was a pause. Dale stood with +his back to the fireplace, one foot on the fender. The cigar took some +lighting. The pause grew irksome. + +“My regard for Madame Brandt,” said I at last, “is such that I don't +wish to discuss her with any one.” I looked at Dale and met his keen +eyes fixed on me. The faintest shadow of a smile played about his mouth. + +“Very well,” said he dryly, “we won't discuss her. But all the same, +my dear Simon, I can't help being interested in her; and as you're +obviously the same, it seems rather curious that you don't know where +she is.” + +“Do you doubt me?” I asked, somewhat staggered by his tone. + +“Good Heaven's, no! But if she has disappeared, I'm convinced that +something has happened which I know nothing of. Of course, it's none of +my business.” + +There was a new and startling note of assurance in his voice. Certainly +he had developed during the past few months. What I had done, Heaven +only knows. Misfortune, which is supposed to be formative of character, +seemed to have turned mine into pie. How can I otherwise account for my +not checking the lunatic impulse that prompted my next words. + +“Well, something has happened,” said I, “and if we're to be friends, +you had better know it. Two days ago, for the first time, I told Madame +Brandt that I loved her. This very afternoon I went to get her answer to +my question--would she marry me?--and I found that she had disappeared +without leaving any address behind her. So whenever you hear her name +mentioned you can just tell everybody that she's the one woman in the +whole wide world I want to marry.” + +“Poor old Simon,” said Dale. “Poor old chap.” + +“That's exactly how things stand.” + +“Lord, who would have thought it?” + +“How I've borne with you talking about her all this evening the devil +only knows,” I cried. “You've driven me half crazy.” + +“You should have told me to shut up.” + +“I did.” + +“Poor old Simon. I'm so sorry--but I had no idea you had fallen in love +with her.” + +“Fallen in love!” said I, losing my head. “She's the only woman on God's +earth I've ever cared for. I want her as I've wanted nothing in the +universe before.” + +“And you've come to care for her as much as that?” he said +sympathetically. “Poor old Simon.” + +“Why the devil shouldn't I?” I shouted, nettled by his “poor old +Simons.” + +“Lola Brandt is hardly of your class,” said Dale. + +I broke out furiously. “Damn class! I've had enough of it. I'm going to +take my life into my own hands and do what I like with it. I'm going to +choose my mate without any reference to society. I've cut myself adrift +from society. It can go hang. Lola Brandt is a woman worth any man's +loving. She is a woman in a million. You know nothing whatever about +her.” + +The last words were scarcely out of my mouth when an echo from the +distance came and, as it were, banged at my ears. Dale himself had +shrieked them at me in exactly the same tone with reference to the same +woman. I stopped short and looked at him for a moment rather stupidly. +Then the imp of humour, who for some time had deserted me, flew to my +side and tickled my brain. I broke into a chuckle, somewhat hysterical +I must admit, and then, throwing myself into an arm-chair, gave way to +uncontrollable laughter. + +The scare of the unexpected rose in Dale's eyes. + +“Why, what on earth is the matter?” + +“Can't you see?” I cried, as far as the paroxysms of my mirth would let +me. “Can't you see how exquisitely ludicrous the whole thing has been +from beginning to end? Don't you realise that you and I are playing +the same scene as we played months ago in my library, with the only +difference that we have changed roles? I'm the raving, infatuated youth, +and you're the grave and reverend mentor. Don't you see? Don't you see?” + +“I can't see anything to laugh at,” said Dale sturdily. + +And he couldn't. There are thousands of bright, flame-like human beings +constituted like that. Life spreads out before them one of its most +side-splitting, topsy-turvy farces and they see in it nothing to laugh +at. + +To Dale the affair had been as serious and lacking in the fantastic as +the measles. He had got over the disease and now was exceedingly sorry +to perceive that I had caught it in my turn. + +“It isn't funny a bit,” he continued. “It's quite natural. I see it all +now. You cut me out from the very first. You didn't mean to--you never +thought of it. But what chance had I against you? I was a young ass and +you were a brilliant man of the world. I bear you no grudge. You played +the game in that way. Then things happened--and at last you've fallen in +love with her--and now just at the critical moment she has gone off into +space. It must be devilish painful for you, if you ask me.” + +“Oh, Dale,” said I, shaking my head, “the only fitting end to the farce +would be if you wandered over Europe to find and bring her back to me.” + +“I don't know about that,” said he, “because I'm engaged, and that, as I +said, gives me occupation; but if I can do anything practicable, my dear +old Simon, you've only got to send for me.” + +He pulled out his watch. + +“My hat!” he exclaimed. “It's past two o'clock.” + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +I am a personage apart from humanity. I vary from the kindly ways of +man. A curse is on me. + +Surely no man has fought harder than I have done to convince himself of +the deadly seriousness of existence; and surely before the feet of +no man has Destiny cast such stumbling-blocks to faith. I might be an +ancient dweller in the Thebaid struggling towards dreams of celestial +habitations, and confronted only by grotesque visions of hell. No +matter what I do, I'm baffled. I look upon sorrow and say, “Lo, this is +tragedy!” and hey, presto! a trick of lightning turns it into farce. I +cry aloud, in perfervid zeal, “Life is real, life is earnest, and the +apotheosis of the fantastic is not its goal,” and immediately a grinning +irony comes to give the lie to my credo. + +Or is it that, by inscrutable decree of the Almighty Powers, I am +undergoing punishment for an old unregenerate point of view, being +doomed to wear my detested motley for all eternity, to stretch out my +hand for ever to grasp realities and find I can do nought but beat the +air with my bladder; to listen with strained ear perpetually expectant +of the music of the spheres, and catch nothing but the mocking jingle of +the bells on my fool's cap? + +I don't know. I give it up. + +Such were my thoughts on the morning after my interview with Dale, when +I had read a long, long letter from Lola, which she had despatched from +Paris. + +The letter lies before me now, many pages in a curious, half-formed +foreign hand. Many would think it an ill-written letter--for there are +faults of spelling and faults of grammar--but even now, as I look +on those faults, the tears come into my eyes. Oh, how exquisitely, +pathetically, monumentally, sublimely foolish! She had little or nothing +to do with it, poor dear; it was only the Arch-Jester again, leading her +blindly away, so as once more to leave me high and dry on the Hill of +Derision. + +“. . . My dear, you must forgive me! My heart is breaking, but I know +I'm doing right. There is nothing for it but to go out of your life for +ever. It terrifies me to think of it, but it's the only way. I know you +think you love me, dear; but you can't, you can't _really_ love a woman +so far beneath you, and I would sooner never see you again than marry +you and wake up one day and find that you hated and scorned me. . . .” + +Can you wonder that I shook my fist at Heaven and danced with rage? + + +“. . . Miss Eleanor Faversham called on me just a few minutes after you +left me that afternoon. We had a long, long talk. Simon, dear, you must +marry her. You loved her once, for you were engaged, and only broke it +off because you thought you were going to die; and she loves you, Simon, +and she is a lady with all the refinement and education that I could +never have. She is of your class, dear, and understands you, and can +help you on, whereas I could only drag you down. I am not fit to black +her boots. . . .” + + +And so forth, and so forth, in the most heartrending strain of insensate +self-sacrifice and heroic self-abasement. The vainest and most heartless +dog of a man stands abashed and helpless before such things in a woman. + +She had not seen or written to me because she would not have her +resolution weakened. After the great wrench, succeeding things were +easier. She had taken Anastasius's cats and proposed to work them in +the music-halls abroad and send the proceeds to be administered for the +little man's comfort at the Maison de Sante. As both her name and the +Papadopoulos troupe of cats were well known in the “variety” world, it +would be a simple matter to obtain engagements. She had already opened +negotiations for a short season somewhere abroad. I was not to be +anxious about her. She would have plenty of occupation. + + +“. . . I am not sending you any address, for I don't want you to know +where I am, dear. I shan't write to you again unless I scribble things +and tear them up without posting. This is final. When a woman makes such +a break she must do it once and for all. Oh, Simon, when you kissed me +two days ago you thought you loved me; but I know what the senses are +and how they deceive people, and I had only just caught your senses +on that spring afternoon, and I made you do it, for I had been aching, +aching for months for a word of love from you, and when it came I was +ashamed. But I should have been weak and shut my eyes to everything if +Miss Faversham had not come to me like God's good angel. . . .” + + +At the fourth reading of the letter I stopped short at these words. +God's good angel, indeed! Could anything have been more calculated to +put a man into a frenzy? I seized my hat and stick and went in search +of the nearest public telephone office. In less than ten minutes I had +arranged an immediate interview with Eleanor Faversham at my sister +Agatha's, and in less than half an hour I was pacing up and down +Agatha's sitting-room waiting for her. God's good angel! The sound +of the words made me choke with wrath. There are times when angelic +interference in human destinies is entirely unwarrantable. I stamped and +I fumed, and I composed a speech in which I told Eleanor exactly what I +thought of angels. + +As I had to wait a considerable time, however, before Eleanor appeared, +the raging violence of my wrath abated, and when she did enter the room +smiling and fresh, with the spring in her clear eyes and a flush on her +cheek, I just said: “How d'ye do, Eleanor?” in the most commonplace way, +and offered her a chair. + +“I've come, you see. You were rather peremptory, so I thought it must be +a matter of great importance.” + +“It is,” said I. “You went to see Madame Brandt.” + +“I did,” she replied, looking at me steadily, “and I have tried to write +to you, but it is more difficult than I thought.” + +“Well,” said I, “it's no use writing now, for you've managed to drive +her out of the country.” + +She half rose in her chair and regarded me with wide-blue eyes. + +“I've driven her out of the country?” + +“Yes; with her maid and her belongings and Anastasius Papadopoulos's +troupe of performing cats, and Anastasius Papadopoulos's late pupil and +assistant Quast. She has given up her comfortable home in London and now +proposes to be a wanderer among the music-halls of Europe.” + +“But that's not my fault! Indeed, it isn't.” + +“She says in a letter I received this morning bearing no address, that +if you hadn't come to her like God's good angel, she would have remained +in London.” + +Eleanor looked bewildered. “I thought I had made it perfectly clear to +her.” + +“Made what clear?” + +She blushed a furious red. “Can't you guess? You must be as stupid as +she is. And, of course, you're wildly angry with me. Aren't you?” + +“I certainly wish you hadn't gone to see her.” + +“Was it merely to tell me this that you ordered me to come here?” she +asked, with a touch of anger in her voice, for however much like God's +good angels young women may be, they generally have a spirit of their +own. + +I felt I had been wanting in tact; also that I had put myself--through +an impetuosity foreign to what I had thought to be my character--in a +foolish position. If I replied affirmatively to her question, she +would have served me perfectly right by tossing her head in the air and +marching indignantly out of the room. I temporised. + +“In order to understand the extraordinary consequences of your +interview, I should like to have some idea of what took place. I know, +my dear Eleanor,” I continued as gently as I could, “I know that you +went to see her out of the very great kindness of your heart--” + +“No, I didn't.” + +I made a little gesture in lieu of reply. There was a span of silence. +Eleanor played with the silky ears of Agatha's little Yorkshire terrier +which had somehow strayed into the room and taken possession of her lap. + +“Don't you see, Simon?” she said at last, half tearfully, without taking +her eyes off the dog, “don't you see that by accusing me in this way +you make it almost impossible for me to speak? And I was going to be so +loyal to you.” + +A tear fell down her cheek on to the dog's back, and convicted me of +unmitigated brutality. + +“What else could you be but loyal?” I murmured. “Your attitude all +through has shone it.” + +She flashed her hand angrily over her eyes, and looked at me. “And I +wanted to be loyal to the end. If you had waited and she had waited, you +would have seen. As soon as I could have conveyed it to you decently, I +should have shown you----Ah!” She broke off, put the Yorkshire terrier +on the sofa beside her, and rose with an impatient gesture. “You want to +know why I called on Lola Brandt? I felt I had to know for myself what +kind of woman she was. She was the woman between us--you and me. You +don't suppose I ceased to care for you just because what we thought was +a fatal illness broke off our engagement! I did care for you. I cared +for you--in a way; I say 'in a way'--I'll tell you why later on. When we +met here the last time do you think I was not moved? I knew your altered +position would not allow you to suggest a renewal of the engagement so +I offered you the opportunity. Do you remember? But I could not tell +whether you still cared for me or whether you cared for the other woman. +So I had to go and see her. I couldn't bear to think that you might feel +in honour bound to take me at my word and be caring all the time for +some one else. I went to see her, and then I realised that I didn't +count. Don't ask why. Women know these things. And I found that she +loved you with a warmth and richness I'm incapable of. I felt I had +stepped into something big and splendid, as if I had been a caterpillar +walking into the heart of a red rose. I felt prim and small and petty. +Until then I had never known what love meant, and I didn't feel it; +I couldn't feel it. I couldn't give you a millionth part of what +that woman does. And I knew that having lived in that atmosphere, you +couldn't possibly be content with me. If you had waited, I should have +found some means of telling you so. That's what I meant by saying I +was loyal to you. And I thought I had made it clear to her. It seems I +didn't. It isn't my fault.” + +“My dear,” said I, when she had come to the end of this astonishing +avowal, and stood looking at me somewhat defiantly and twisting her +fingers nervously in front of her, “I don't know what in the world to +say to you.” + +“You can tell me, at least, that my instinct was right.” + +“Which one? A woman has so many.” + +“That you love Lola Brandt.” + +I lifted my arms in a helpless gesture and let them drop to my sides. + +“One is not one's own master in these things.” + +“Then you do?” + +“Yes,” said I in a low voice. + +Eleanor drew a long breath, turned and sat down again on the sofa. + +“And she knows it?” + +“I have told her so.” + +“Then why in the world has she run away?” + +“Because you two wonderful and divinely foolish people have been too big +for each other. While you were impressed by one quality in her she was +equally impressed by another in you. She departed, burning her ships, so +as to go entirely out of my life for the simple reason, as she herself +expresses it, that she was not fit to black your boots. So,” said I, +taking her left hand in mine and patting it gently, “between you two +dear, divine angel fools, I fall to the ground.” + +A while later, just before we parted, she said in her frank way: + +“I know many people would say I've behaved with shocking +impropriety--immodestly and all that. You don't, do you? I believe half +the unhappiness in life comes from people being afraid to go straight +at things. Perhaps I've gone too straight this time--but you'll forgive +me?” + +I smiled and squeezed her hand. “My dear,” said I, “Lola Brandt was +right. You are God's good angel.” + +I went away in a chastened mood, no longer wrathful, for what could +woman do more for mortal man than what Eleanor Faversham had attempted? +She had gone to see whether she should stand against her rival, and with +a superb generosity, unprecedented in her sex, she had withdrawn. The +magnanimity of it overwhelmed me. I walked along the street exalting her +to viewless pinnacles of high-heartedness. And then, suddenly, the Devil +whispered in my ear that execrated word “eumoiriety.” It poisoned the +rest of the day. It confirmed my conviction of the ironical designs of +Destiny. Destiny, not content with making me a victim of the accursed +principle in my own person, had used these two dear women as its +instruments in dealing me fresh humiliation. Where would it end? Where +could I turn to escape such an enemy? If I had been alone in green +fields instead of Sloane Square, I should have clapped my hands to my +head and prayed God not to drive me crazy. I should have cried wild vows +to the winds and shaken my fist at the sky and rolled upon the grass +and made a genteel idiot of myself. Nature would have understood. Men +do these things in time of stress, and I was in great stress. I loved +a woman for the first time in my life--and I was a man nearly forty. I +wanted her with every quivering nerve in me. And she was gone. Lost in +the vast expanse of Europe with a parcel of performing cats. Gone out of +my life loving me as I loved her, all on account of this Hell-invented +principle. Ye gods! If the fierce, pure, deep, abiding love of a man for +a woman is not a reality, what in this world of shadows is anything but +vapour? I grasped it tight, hugged it to my bosom--and now she was gone, +and in my ears rang the derisive laughter of the enemy. + +Where would it end? What would happen next? Nothing was too +outrageously, maniacally impossible. I walked up Sloane Street, a +street for which impeccable respectability, security of life and person, +comfortable, modern, twentieth-century, prosperous smugness has no +superior in all the smug cities of the earth, and I was prepared to +encounter with a smile of recognition anything that the whirling brains +of Bedlam had ever conceived. Why should not this little lady tripping +along with gold chain-bag and anxious, shopping knit of the brow, throw +her arms round my neck and salute me as her long-lost brother? Why +should not the patient horses in that omnibus suddenly turn into +griffins and begin to snort fire from their nostrils? Why should not +that policeman, who, on his beat, was approaching me with the heavy, +measured tread, suddenly arrest me for complicity in the Pazzi +Conspiracy or the Rye House Plot? Why should not the whole of the +decorous street suddenly change into the inconsequence of an Empire +ballet? Why should not the heavens fall down and universal chaos envelop +all? + +The only possible reason I can think of now is that the Almighty Powers +did not consider it worth while to go to quite so much trouble on my +account. + +This, however, gives you some idea of my state of mind. But though it +lasted for a considerable time, I would not have you believe that I +fostered it unduly. Indeed, I repudiated it with some disgust. I took it +out, examined it, and finding it preposterous, set to work to modify it +into harmony with the circumstances of my every-day life. Even the most +sorely tried of men cannot walk abroad shedding his exasperation around +like pestilence. If he does, he is put into a lunatic asylum. + +If a man cannot immediately assuage the hunger of his heart, he must +meet starvation with a smiling face. In the meantime, he has to eat so +as to satisfy the hunger of his body, to clothe himself with a certain +discrimination, to attend to polite commerce with his fellow man and to +put to some fair use the hours of his day. I did not doubt but that +by means of intelligent inquiry which I determined to pursue in every +possible direction I should sooner or later obtain news of Lola. A lady +with a troupe of performing cats could not for long remain in obscurity. +True, I might have gone in gallant quest of her; but I had had enough of +such fool adventures. I bided my time, consulted with Dale, who took +up the work of a private detective agency with his usual zeal, writing +letters to every crony who languished in the exile of foreign embassies, +and corresponding (unknown to Lady Kynnersley) with the agencies of +the International Aid Society, did what I could on my own account, and +turned my attention seriously to the regeneration of the Judds. + +As the affairs of one drunken tailor's family could not afford me +complete occupation for my leisure hours, I began to find myself +insensibly drawn by Campion's unreflecting enthusiasm into all kinds of +small duties connected with Barbara's Building. Before I could realise +that I had consented, I discovered myself in charge of an evening class +of villainous-looking and uncleanly youths who assembled in one of the +lecture-rooms to listen to my recollections of the history of England. +I was to continue the course begun by a young Oxford man, who, for some +reason or other, had migrated from Barbara's Building to Toynbee Hall. + +“I've never done any schoolmastering in my life. Suppose,” said I, with +vivid recollections of my school days, “suppose they rag me?” + +“They won't,” said Campion, who had come to introduce me to the class. + +And they did not. I found these five and twenty youthful members of the +proletariat the most attentive, respectable, and intelligent audience +that ever listened to a lecture. Gradually I came to perceive that they +were not as villainous-looking and uncleanly as at first sight I had +imagined. A great many of them took notes. When I came to the end of +my dissertation on Henry VIII, I went among them, as I discovered the +custom to be, and chatted, answering questions, explaining difficulties, +and advising as to a course of reading. The atmosphere of trust and +friendliness compensated for the lack of material sweetness. Here were +young men pathetically eager to learn, grateful for every crumb of +information that came from my lips. They reminded me of nothing more +than the ragged class of scholars around a teacher in a mediaeval +university. Some had vague dreams of eventually presenting themselves +for examinations, the Science and Art Department, the College of +Preceptors, the Matriculation of the University of London. Others +longed for education for its own sake, or rather as a means of raising +themselves in the social scale. Others, bitten by the crude Socialism of +their class, had been persuaded to learn something of past movements +of mankind so as to obtain some basis for their opinions. All were +in deadly earnest. The magnetic attraction between teacher and taught +established itself. After one or two lectures, I looked forward to the +next with excited interest. + +Other things Campion off-handedly put into my charge. I went on tours of +inspection round the houses of his competing housewives. I acted as his +deputy at the police court when ladies and gentlemen with a good record +at Barbara's got into trouble with the constabulary. I investigated +cases for the charity of the institution. In quite a short time +I realised with a gasp that I had become part of the machinery of +Barbara's Building, and was remorselessly and helplessly whirled hither +and thither with the rest of the force of the driving wheel which was +Rex Campion. + +The amazing, the astounding, the utterly incredible thing about the +whole matter was that I not only liked it, but plunged into it heart and +soul as I had never plunged into work before. I discovered sympathies +that had hitherto lain undreamed of within me. In my electioneering days +I had, it is true, foregathered with the sons of toil. I had shaken the +horny hands of men and the soap-suddy hands of women. I had flattered +them and cajoled them and shown myself mighty affable, as a sensible and +aspiring Parliamentary candidate should do; but the way to their hearts +I had never found, I had never dreamed of seeking. And now it seemed as +if the great gift had been bestowed on me--and I examined it with a new +and almost tremulous delight. + +Also, for the first time in all my life, I had taken pain to be the +companion of my soul. All my efforts to find Lola were fruitless. I +became acquainted with the heartache, the longing for the unattainable, +the agony of spirit. The only anodyne was a forgetfulness of self, the +only compensation a glimmer of a hope and the shadow of a smile in the +grey and leaden lives around me. + + + +On Whit Monday evening I was walking along the Thames Embankment on my +way home from Waterloo Station, wet through, tired out, disappointed, +and looking forward to the dry, soft raiment, the warm, cosy room, the +excellent dinner that awaited me in my flat. I--with several others--had +been helping Campion with his annual outing of factory girls and young +hooligans. The weather, which had been perfect on Saturday, Sunday, and +when we had started, a gay and astonishing army, at seven o'clock, had +broken before ten. It had rained, dully miserable, insistently all day +long. The happy day in the New Forest had been a damp and dismal fiasco. +I was returning home, thinking I might walk off an incipient chill, +as depressed as no one but the baffled philanthropist can be, when +I perceived a tattered and dejected man sitting on a bench, a +clothes-basket between his feet, his elbows on his knees, his head in +his hands, and sobbing as if his heart would break. As the spectacle +of a grown-up man crying bitterly in a public thoroughfare was somewhat +remarkable, I paused, and then in order to see whether his distress was +genuine, and also not to arouse his suspicions, I threw myself in an +exhausted manner on the bench beside him. He continued to sob. At last I +said, raising my voice: + +“You seem to be pretty miserable. What's wrong?” + +He turned bleared, yet honest-looking eyes upon me. + +“The whole blasted show!” said he. “There's nothing right in it, s'welp +me Gawd.” + +I gave a modified assent to the proposition and drew my coat-collar over +my eyes. “Being wet through doesn't make it any better,” said I. + +“Who would ha' thought it would come down as it has to-day? Tell me +that. It's enough to make a man cut his throat!” + +I was somewhat surprised. “You're not in such a great distress just +because it has been a rainy day!” + +“Ain't I just!” he exclaimed. “It's been and gone and ruined me, this +day has. Look 'ere, guv'nor, I'll tell you all about it. I've been out +of work, see? I was in 'orspital for three months and I couldn't get +nothing regular to do when I come out. I'm a packer by trade. I did odd +jobs, see, and the wife she earned a little, too, and we managed to keep +things going and to scrape together five shillings, that's three months' +savings, against Whitsun Bank Holiday. And as the weather was so fine, +I laid it all out in paper windmills to sell to the kids on 'Amstead +'Eath. And I started out this morning with the basket full of them all +so fine and pretty, and no sooner do I get on the 'Eath than the rain +comes down and wipes out the whole blooming lot, before I could sell +one. Look 'ere!” + +He drew a bedraggled sheet of newspaper from the clothes-basket and +displayed a piteous sodden welter of sticks and gaudy pulp. At the sight +of it he broke down again and sobbed like a child. + +“And there's not a bite in the 'ouse, nor not likely to be for days; +and I daren't go home and face the missus and the kids--and I wish I was +dead.” + +I had already seen many pitiful tragedies during my brief experience +with Campion; but the peculiar pitifulness of this one wrung my heart. +It taught me as nothing had done before how desperately humble are the +aspirations of the poor. I thought of the cosy comfort that awaited me +in my own home; the despair that awaited him in his. + +I put my hand in my pocket. + +“You seem to be a good chap,” said I. + +He shrugged his shoulders. The consciousness of applauded virtue offered +no consolation. I drew out a couple of half-crowns and threw them into +the basket. + +“For the missus and the kids,” said I. + +He picked them out of the welter, and holding them in his hand, looked +at me stupidly. + +“Can you afford it, guv'nor?” + +At first I thought this remark was some kind of ill-conditioned sarcasm; +but suddenly I realised that dripping wet and covered with mud from head +to foot, with a shapeless, old, green, Homburg hat drooping forlornly +about my ears, I did not fulfil his conception of the benevolent +millionaire. I laughed, and rose from the bench. + +“Yes. Quite well. Better luck next time.” + +I nodded a good-bye, and walked away. After a minute, he came running +after me. + +“'Ere,” said he, “I ain't thanked yer. Gawd knows how I'm going to do +it. I can't! But, 'ere--would you mind if I chucked a lot of the stuff +into the river and told the missus I had sold it, and just got back my +money? She's proud, she is, and has never accepted a penny in charity in +her life. It's only because it would be better for 'er.” + +He looked at me with such earnest appeal that I saw that the saving of +his wife's pride was a serious matter. + +“Of course,” said I, “and here's a few ha'pence to add to it, so as to +give colour to the story.” + +He saw that I understood. “Thank you kindly, sir,” said he. + +“Tell me,” said I, “do you love your wife?” + +He gaped at me for a moment; obviously the question had never been put +to him either by himself or anybody else. Then, seeing that my interest +was genuine, he spat and scratched his head. + +“We've been together twenty years,” he said, in a low voice, emotion +struggling with self-consciousness, “and I've 'ad nothing agin her all +that time. She's a bloomin' wonder, I tell you straight.” + +I held out my hand. “At any rate, you've got what I haven't,” said I. “A +woman who loves you to welcome you home.” + +And I went away, longing, longing for Lola's arms and the deep love in +her voice. + +Now that I come to view my actions in some sort of perspective, it seems +to me that it was the underlying poignancy of this trumpery incident--a +poignancy which, nevertheless, bit deep into my soul, that finally +determined the current of my life. + +A short while afterwards, Campion, who for some time past had found the +organisation of Barbara's Building had far outgrown his individual +power of control, came to me with a proposal that I should undertake the +management of the institution under his general directorship. As he knew +of my financial affairs and of my praiseworthy but futile efforts to +live on two hundred a year, he offered me another two hundred by way of +salary and quarters in the Building. I accepted, moved the salvage of my +belongings from Victoria Street to Lambeth, and settled down to the work +for which a mirth-loving Providence had destined me from my cradle. + +When I told Agatha, she nearly fainted. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +No sooner had I moved into Barbara's Building and was preparing to begin +my salaried duties than I received news which sent me off post haste +to Berlin. And just as it was not I but Anastasius Papadopoulos who +discovered Captain Vauvenarde, so, in this case, it was Dale who +discovered Lola. + +He burst in upon me one day, flourishing a large visiting-card, which he +flung down on the table before my eyes. + +“Do you recognise that?” + +It was the familiar professional card of the unhappy Anastasius. + +“Yes.” + +“Do you see the last line?” + +I read “London Agents: Messrs. Conto and Blag, 172 Maiden Lane, W.C.” I +looked up. “Well?” I asked. + +“It has done the trick,” said he triumphantly. “What fools we were not +to have thought of it before. I was rooting out a drawer of papers and +came across the card. You remember he handed us one all round the +first day we met him. I put it away--I'm rather a methodical devil with +papers, as you know. When I found it, I danced a hornpipe all round the +room and went straight off to Conto and Blag. I made certain she would +work through them, as they were accustomed to shop the cats, and I found +I was right. They knew all about her. Wouldn't give her address, but +told me that she was appearing this week at the Winter Garten at Berlin. +Why that pudding-headed quagga, Bevan, at the Embassy, hasn't kept his +eyes open for me, as he promised,” he went on a while later, “I don't +know! I can understand Eugen Pattenhausen, the owl-eyed coot who +runs the International Aid Society, not doing a hand's turn to aid +anybody--but Bevan! For Heaven's sake, while you're there call at the +Embassy and kick him.” + +“You forget, my dear boy,” said I, with a laugh, for his news had +made me light-hearted, “you forget that I have entered upon a life +of self-denial, and one of the luxuries I must deny myself is that of +kicking attaches.” + +“I've a good mind to go with you and do it myself. But it'll keep. Do +you know, it's rather quaint, isn't it?” he said, after a pause, as if +struck by a luminous idea--“It's rather quaint that it should be I who +am playing the little tin god on wheels for you two, and saying 'Bless +you, my children.'” + +“I thought the humour of the situation couldn't fail to strike you at +last.” + +“Yes,” said he, knitting his brows into an air of dark reflection “it is +funny. Devilish funny!” + +I dismissed him with grateful words, and in a flutter of excitement went +in search of Campion, whom I was lucky to find in the building. + +“I'm sorry to ask for leave of absence,” said I, “before I've actually +taken up my appointment; but I must do so. I am summoned at once to +Berlin on important business.” + +Campion gave willing consent. “How long will you be away?” + +“That depends,” said I, with a smile which I meant to be enigmatic, but +assuredly must have been fatuous, “upon my powers of persuasion.” + +I had bright thoughts of going to Berlin and back in a meteoric flash, +bringing Lola with me on my return journey, to marry her out of hand +as soon as we reached London. Cats and Winter Gartens concerned me but +little, and of trifles like contracts I took no account. + +“If you're there any time,” said Campion, tugging thoughtfully at his +black beard, “you might look into what the Germans are doing with regard +to Female Rescue Work. You might pick up a practical tip or two for use +down here.” + +What a thing it is to be a man of one idea! I gave him an evasive answer +and rushed away to make the necessary preparations for my journey. I was +absurdly, boyishly happy. No doubt as to my success crossed my mind. +It was to be my final and triumphant adventure. Unless the High Powers +stove a hole in the steamer or sent another railway train to collide +with mine, the non-attainment of my object seemed impossible. I had but +to go, to be seen, to conquer. + +I arrived safely in Berlin at half-past seven in the evening, and drove +to a modest hotel in the Kaiserstrasse, where I had engaged a room. My +first inquiry was for a letter from Lola. To my disappointment nothing +awaited me. I had telegraphed to her at the Winter Garten the day +before, and I had written as well. A horrible surmise began to dance +before me. Suppose Messrs. Conto and Blag had given Dale erroneous +information! I grew sick and faint at the thought. What laughter there +would be in Olympus over my fool journey! In great agitation I clamoured +for a programme of the Winter Garten entertainment. The hotel clerk put +it into my trembling hands. There was no mention of Madame Lola Brandt, +but to my unspeakable comfort I saw the announcement: + + +“Professorin Anastasius Papadopoulos und ihre wunderbaren Katzen.” + + +Lola was working the cats under the little man's name. That was why +she had baffled the inquiries instituted by Dale and myself and had not +received my telegram. I scribbled a hasty note in which I told her of +my arrival, my love, and my impatience; that I proposed to witness the +performance that evening, and to meet her immediately afterwards at the +stage-door. This, addressed to the Professorin Anastasius Papadopoulos, +I despatched by special messenger to the Winter Garten. After a hasty +toilet and a more hurried meal, I went out, and, too impatient to walk, +I hailed a droschky, and drove through the wide, cheery streets of +Berlin. It was a balmy June evening. The pavements were thronged. +Through the vast open fronts of the cafes one saw agglutinated masses +of people just cleft here and there by white-jacketed waiters darting +to and fro with high-poised trays of beer and coffee. Save these and the +folks in theatres all Berlin was in the streets, taking the air. A sense +of gaiety pervaded the place, organised and recognised, as though it +were as much part of a Berliner's duty to himself, the Fatherland, and +the Almighty to be gay when the labours of the day are over as to be +serious during business hours. He goes through it with a grave face and +enjoys himself prodigiously. Your Latin when he fills the street with +jest and laughter obeys the ebullience of his temperament; your Teuton +always seems to be conscientiously obeying a book of regulations. + +I soon arrived at the Winter Garten and secured a stall near the stage. +The vast building was packed with a smoking and perspiring multitude. +In shape it was like a long tunnel or a long, narrow railway station, an +impression intensified by a monotonous barrel roof. This was, however, +painted blue and decorated with myriads of golden stars. Along one side +ran a gallery where those who liked to watch the performance and eat a +six-course dinner at the same time could do so in elaborate comfort. In +the centre of the opposite side was the stage, and below it, grouped in +a semi-circle, the orchestra. Beneath the starry roof hung long wisps of +smoke clouds. + +The performance had only just begun and Lola's turn was seventh on the +list. I reflected that greater deliberation in my movements would have +suited the maturity of my years, besides enabling me to eat a more +digestible dinner. I had come with the unreasoning impatience of a boy, +fully conscious that I was too early, yet desperately anxious not to be +too late. I laughed at myself indulgently and patted the boy in me +on the head. Meanwhile, I gave myself up with mild interest to the +entertainment provided. It was the same as that at any music-hall, +winter garden, or variety theatre the world over. The same brawny +gentlemen in tights made human pyramids out of themselves and played +football with the little boys and minced with their aggravating steps +down to the footlights; the same red-nosed clown tried to emulate his +dashing companion on the horizontal bars, pulling himself up, to the +eternal delight of the audience, by the seat of his baggy breeches, and +hanging his hat on the smooth steel upright; the same massive lady with +the deep chest sang sentimental ballads; the same China-man produced +warrens of rabbits and flocks of pigeons from impossible receptacles; +the same half-dozen scantily clad damsels sang the same inane chorus in +the same flat baby voices and danced the same old dance. Mankind in the +bulk is very young; it is very easily amused and, like a child, clamours +for the oft-repeated tale. + +The curtain went down on the last turn before Lola's. I felt a curious +suspense, and half wished that I had not come to see the performance. +I shrank from finding her a million miles away from me, a new, remote +creature, impersonal as those who had already appeared on the stage. +Mingled with this was a fear lest she might not please this vast +audience. Failure, I felt, would be as humiliating to me as to her. +Agatha, I remembered, confessed to the same feeling with regard to +myself when I made my first speech in the House of Commons. But then +I had an incontrovertible array of facts and arguments, drawn up by an +infallible secretary and welded into cunning verbiage by myself, which +I learned off by heart. And the House, as I knew it would, had been +half asleep. I couldn't fail. But Lola had to please three thousand +wide-awake Berlin citizens, who had paid their money for entertainment, +with no other equipment than her own personality and the tricks of a set +of wretched irresponsible cats. + +The orchestra struck up the act music. The curtains parted, and revealed +the brightly polished miniature gymnasium I had seen at Anastasius's +cattery; the row of pussies at the back, each on a velvet stand, some +white, some tabby, some long-furred, some short-furred, all sitting with +their forepaws doubled demurely under their chests, wagging their tails +comically, and blinking with feline indifference at the footlights; a +cage in a corner in which I descried the ferocious wild tomcat; +and, busily putting the last touches to the guy ropes, the pupil and +assistant Quast, neatly attired in a close fitting bottle-green uniform +with brass buttons. Almost immediately Lola appeared, in a shimmering +gold evening gown, and with a necklet of barbaric gold round her neck. +I had never seen her so magnificently, so commandingly beautiful. I +was conscious of a ripple of admiration running through the huge +assembly--and it was a queer sensation, half pride, half angry jealousy. +My immediate neighbors were emphatic in their praise. Applause greeted +her. She smiled acknowledgments and, flicking the little toy whip which +she carried in her hand, she began the act. First of all, the cats +jumped from their stands, right-turned like a military line, and walked +in procession round the stage. At a halt and a signal each pussy put its +front paws on its front neighbour and the march began again. Then Lola +did something with voice and whip, and each cat dropped on its paws, and +as if by magic there appeared a space between every animal. + +At a further word the last cat jumped over the one in front and over the +one in front of that and so on until, having cleared the first cat, +it leaped on to its stand where it began to lick itself placidly. +Meanwhile, the penultimate cat had begun the same evolution, and then +the ante-penultimate cat, until all the cats had cleared the front one +and had taken their positions on their stands. The last cat, left alone, +looked round, yawned in the face of the audience, and, turning tail, +regained its stand with the air of unutterable boredom. The audience, +delighted, applauded vehemently. I raised my hands as I clapped them, +trying vainly and foolishly to catch Lola's eye. + +At a tap of her whip a white angora and a sleek tabby jumped from +the stands and took up their positions one at each end of a miniature +tight-rope. Lola stuck a tiny Japanese umbrella in the collar of each +and sent them forth on their perilous journey. When they met in the +middle, they spat and caterwauled and argued spitefully. The audience +shrieked. Then by a miracle the cats cleared each other and pursued +their sedate and cautious ways to their respective ends of the rope. The +next act was a team of a dozen rats drawing a tiled chariot driven by +a stolid coal-black cat with green, expressionless eyes, down an aisle +formed by the other cats who sat in solemn contemplation on their tails. +There was no doubt of Lola's success. The tricks were as marvellous +in themselves as their execution was flawless. During the applause I +noticed her eagerly scanning the sea of faces. Her eyes seemed to be +turned in my direction. I waved my handkerchief, and instinct told me +that at last she recognised the point of pink and the flutter of white +as me. + +Then the stage was cleared of the gentle cats and the wire cage +containing Hephaestus was pushed forward by Quast. He showed off the +ferocious beast's quality by making it dash itself against the wires, +arch its huge back, and shoot out venomous claws. Lola commanded him +by sign to open the cage. He approached in simulated terror, Hephaestus +uttering blood-curdling howls, and every time he touched the handle of +the door Hephaestus sprang at him like a tiger with the tomcat's +hateful hiss. At last, amid the laughter of the audience (for this was +prearranged business), Quast suddenly refused to obey his mistress any +more, and went and sat on the floor in the corner of the stage. Then +Lola, with a glance of contempt at him for his poltroonery and a glance +of confidence at the audience, opened the cage door and dragged the +gigantic and malevolent brute out by the scruff of its neck and held it +up like a rabbit, as she had done in Anastasius's cattery. + +Suddenly her iron grip seemed to relax; she made one or two ineffectual +efforts to retain it and the brute dropped to the ground. She looked at +it for a second disconcerted as if she had lost her nerve, and then, +in a horrible flash, the beast sprang at her face. She uttered piercing +screams. The blood spurted from the ghastly claws. Quick as lightning +Quast leapt forward and dragged it off. Lola clapped both hands to her +eyes, and reeled and tottered to the wings, where I saw a man's two arms +receive her. The last thing I saw was Quast kneeling on the beast on the +floor mastering him by some professional clutch. Then there rang out a +sharp whistle and the curtain went down with a run. + +I rose, sick with horror, barely conscious of the gasping excitement +that prevailed around me, and blindly groped my path through the crowded +rows of folk towards the door. I had only proceeded half-way when a +sudden silence made me turn, and I saw a man addressing the audience +from the stage. Apparently it was the manager. He regretted to have +to inform the audience that Madame Papadopoulos would not be able +to conclude her most interesting performance that evening as she +had unfortunately received injuries of a very grave nature. Then he +signalled to the orchestra, who crashed into a loud and vulgar march +with clanging brass and thundering drum. It sounded so cynically and +hideously inhuman that I trampled recklessly over people in my mad rush +to the exit. + +I found the stage-door, where a knot of the performers were assembled, +talking of the horrible accident. I pushed my way shiveringly through +them, and tried to rush into the building, but was checked by a burly +porter. I explained incoherently in my rusty German. I came for news of +Madame Papadopoulos. I was her _Verlobter_ I declared, with a gush of +inspiration. Whether he believed that I was her affianced I know not, +but he bade me wait, and disappeared with my card. I became at once +the object of the curiosity of the loungers. I heard them whispering +together as they pointed me out and pitying me. The cat had torn her +face away said one woman. I put my hands over my ears so as not to hear. +Presently the porter returned with a stout person in authority, who drew +me into the stage-doorkeeper's box. + +“You are a friend of Frau Papadopoulos?” + +“Friend!” I cried. “She is to be my wife. I am in a state of horror and +despair. Tell me what has happened.” + +Seeing my condition, he laid aside his official manner and became human. +It was a dreadful accident, said he. The beast had apparently got its +claws in near her eyes; but what were her exact injuries he could not +tell, as her face was all over blood and she had fainted with the pain. +The doctor was with her. He had telephoned for an ambulance. I was to be +quite certain that she would receive every possible attention. He would +give my card to the doctor. Meanwhile I was quite at liberty to remain +in the box till the ambulance came. I thanked him. + +“In the meantime,” said I, “if you can let me have a word with Fraulein +Dawkins, her maid, should she be in the theatre, or Quast her attendant, +I should be grateful.” + +He promised and withdrew. The doorkeeper gave me a wooden chair, and +there I sat for an unconscionable time, faint and dizzy with suspense. +The chance words I had heard in the crowd, the manager's remark about +the claws, the memory of the savage spring at the beloved face made me +feel sick. Every now and then, as some doors leading to the stage swung +open, I could hear the orchestra and the laughter and applause of +the audience. Both Dawkins and Quast visited me. The former was in a +helpless state of tears and hand-wringing. As she knew no word of German +she could understand nothing that the doctors or others said. Madame was +unconscious. Her head was tightly bandaged. That was all the definite +information she had. + +“Did Madame know I was in front to-night?” I asked. + +“Oh, yes, sir! I think she had a letter from you. She was so pleased, +poor dear Madame. She told me that you would see the best performance +she had ever given.” + +Whereupon she broke down and was useless for further examination. Then +Quast came. He could not understand how the accident had occurred. +Hephaestus had never before tried to attack her. She had absolute +mastery over him, and he usually behaved with her as gently as any of +the other cats. With himself it was quite different. He was accustomed +to Hephaestus springing at him; but then he beat him hard with a great +stick until he was so sore that he could neither stand up nor lie down. + +“I have always implored Madame to carry something heavier than that +silly little whip, and now it's all over. She will never be able to +control him again. Hephaestus will have to be killed, and I will be +desolate. Ach, what a misfortune!” + +He began to weep. + +“Good God!” I cried; “you don't mean to say that you're sorry for the +brute?” + +“One can't help being fond of him. We have been for five years +inseparable companions!” + +I had no sympathy to fling away on him at that moment. + +“How do you account for his spring at Madame to-night? That's all I want +to know.” + +“She must have been thinking of something else when she grabbed him. For +she missed her grip. Then he fell and was frightened, and she must have +lost her nerve. Hephaestus knew it, and sprang. That is always the case +when wild animals turn. All accidents happen like that.” + +His words filled me with a new and sickening dread. + +_“She must have been thinking of something else.”_ Of what else but of +my presence there? That stupid, selfish wave of the handkerchief! I sat +gnawing my hands and cursing myself. + +The ambulance arrived. Men hurried past my box. I waited again in agony +of mind. At last the porter came and cleared the passage and doorway of +loungers, and I heard the tread of footsteps and gruff directions. The +manager and a man in a frock-coat and black tie, whom I recognised as +the doctor, came down the passage, followed by two great men carrying +between them a stretcher covered by a sheet on which lay all that I +loved in life. Dawkins followed, weeping, and then came several theatre +folk. I went outside and saw the stretcher put into the ambulance-van, +and then I made myself known to the doctor. + +“She has received very great injuries--chiefly the right cheek and eye. +So much so that she needs an oculist's care at once. I have telephoned +to Dr. Steinholz, of No. 4, Thiergarten, one of our ablest oculists, to +receive her now into his clinique. If you care to do so, you are welcome +to accompany me.” + +I drove through the gay, flaring streets of Berlin like a man in a +phantasmagoria of horror. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +The first time they allowed me to see her was after many days of +nerve-racking anxiety. I had indeed called at the clinique two or three +times a day for news, and I had written short letters of comfort and +received weirdly-spelt messages taken down from Lola's dictation by a +nurse with an imperfect knowledge of English. These kept the heart in +me; for the doctor's reports were invariably grave--possible loss of +sight in the injured eye and permanent disfigurement their most hopeful +prognostications. I lived, too, in a nervous agony of remorse. For +whatever happened I held myself responsible. At first they thought her +life was in danger. I passed nightmare days. Then the alarming symptoms +subsided, and it was a question of the saving of the eye and the decent +healing of the cheek torn deep by the claws of the accursed brute. When +Quast informed me of its summary execution I felt the primitive savage +arise in me, and I upbraided Quast for not having invited me to gloat +over its expiring throes. How the days passed I know not. I wandered +about the streets, looking into the windows of the great shops, buying +flowers and fruit for Lola in eccentric quantities. Or sitting in +beerhouses reading the financial pages of a German paper held upside +down. I could not return to London. Still less could I investigate +the German philanthropic methods of rescuing fallen women. I wrote to +Campion a brief account of what had happened and besought him to set a +deputy to work on the regeneration of the Judds. + +At last they brought me to where Lola lay, in a darkened room, with her +head tightly bandaged. A dark mass spread over the pillow which I knew +was her glorious hair. I could scarcely see the unbandaged half of her +face. She still suffered acute pain, and I was warned that my visit +could only be of brief duration, and that nothing but the simplest +matters could be discussed. I sat down on a chair by the left side of +the bed. Her wonderful nervous hand clung round mine as we talked. + +The first thing she said to me, in a weak voice, like the faint echo of +her deep tones, was: + +“I'm going to lose all my good looks, Simon, and you won't care to look +at me any more.” + +She said it so simply, so tenderly, without a hint of reproach in it, +that I almost shouted out my horrible remorse; but I remembered my +injunctions and refrained. I strove to comfort her, telling her mythical +tales of surgical reassurances. She shook her head sadly. + +“It was like you to stay in Berlin, Simon,” she said, after a while. +“Although they wouldn't let me see you, yet I knew you were within call. +You can't conceive what a comfort it has been.” + +“How could I leave you, dear,” said I, “with the thought of you +throbbing in my head night and day?” + +“How did you find me?” + +“Through Conto and Blag. I tried all other means, you may be sure. But +now I've found you I shan't let you go again.” + +This was not the time for elaborate explanations. She asked for +none. When one is very ill one takes the most unlikely happenings as +commonplace occurrences. It seemed enough to her that I was by her side. +We talked of her nurses, who were kind; of the skill of Dr. Steinholz, +who brought into his clinique the rigid discipline of a man-of-war. + +“He wouldn't even let me have your flowers,” she said. “And even if he +had I shouldn't have been able to see them in this dark hole.” + +She questioned me as to my doings. I told her of my move to Barbara's +Building. + +“And I'm keeping you from all that splendid work,” she said weakly. “You +must go back at once, Simon. I shall get along nicely now, and I shall +be happy now that I've seen you again.” + +I kissed her fingers. “You have to learn a lesson, my dear, which will +do you an enormous amount of good.” + +“What is that?” + +“The glorious duty of selfishness.” + +Then the minute hand of the clock marked the end of the interview, and +the nurse appeared on the click and turned me out. + +After that I saw her daily; gradually our interviews lengthened, and as +she recovered strength our talks wandered from the little incidents and +interests of the sick-room to the general topics of our lives. I told +her of all that had happened to me since her flight. And I told her that +I wanted her and her only of all women. + +“Why--oh, why, did you do such a foolish thing?” I asked. + +“I did it for your good.” + +“My dear, have you ever heard the story of the tender-hearted elephant? +No? It was told in a wonderful book published years ago and called +'The Fables of George Washington AEsop.' This is it. There was once an +elephant who accidentally trod on the mother of a brood of newly-hatched +chickens. Her tender heart filled with remorse for what she had done, +and, overflowing with pity for the fluffy orphans, she wept bitterly, +and addressed them thus: 'Poor little motherless things, doomed to face +the rough world without a parent's care, I myself will be a mother to +you.' Whereupon, gathering them under her with maternal fondness, she +sat down on the whole brood.” + +The unbandaged half of her face lit up with a wan smile. “Did I do +that?” + +“I didn't conceive it possible that you could love me except for the +outside things.” + +“You might have waited and seen,” said I in mild reproof. + +She sighed. “You'll never understand. Do you remember my saying once +that you reminded me of an English Duke?” + +“Yes.” + +“You made fun of me; but you must have known what I meant. You see, +Simon, you didn't seem to care a hang for me in that way--until quite +lately. You were goodness and kindness itself, and I felt that you +would stick by me as a friend through thick and thin; but I had given up +hoping for anything else. And I knew there was some one only waiting for +you, a real refined lady. So when you kissed me, I didn't dare believe +it. And I had made you kiss me. I told you so, and I was as ashamed as +if I had suddenly turned into a loose woman. And when Miss Faversham +came, I knew it would be best for you to marry her, for all the +flattering things she said to me, I knew--” + +“My dear,” I interrupted, “you didn't know at all. I loved you ever +since I saw you first lying like a wonderful panther in your chair at +Cadogan Gardens. You wove yourself into all my thoughts and around all +my actions. One of these days I'll show you a kind of diary I used to +keep, and you'll see how I abused you behind your back.” + +Her face--or the dear half of it that was visible--fell. “Oh, why?” + +“For making me turn aside from the nice little smooth path to the +grave which I had marked out for myself. I regarded myself as a genteel +semi-corpse, and didn't want to be disturbed.” + +“And I disturbed you?” + +“Until I danced with fury and called down on your dear head maledictions +which for fulness and snap would have made a mediaeval Pope squirm with +envy.” + +She pressed my hand. “You are making fun again. I thought you were +serious.” + +“I am. I'm telling you exactly what happened. Then, when I was rapidly +approaching the other world, it didn't matter. At last I died and came +to life again; but it took me a long time to come really to life. I was +like a tree in spring which has one bud which obstinately refuses to +burst into blossom. At last it did burst, and all the love that had +been working in my heart came to my lips; and, incidentally, my dear, to +yours.” + +This was at the early stages of her recovery, when one could only speak +of gentle things. She told me of her simple Odyssey--a period of waiting +in Paris, an engagement at Vienna and Budapest, and then Berlin. Her +agents had booked a week in Dresden, and a fortnight in Homburg, and she +would have to pay the forfeit for breach of contract. + +“I'm sorry for Anastasius's sake,” she said. “The poor little mite wrote +me rapturous letters when he heard I was out with the cats. He gave me a +long special message for each, which I was to whisper in its ear.” + +Poor little Anastasius Papadopoulos! She showed me his letters, written +in a great round, flourishing, sanguine hand. He seemed to be happy +enough at the Maison de Sante. He had formed, he said, a school for the +cats of the establishment, for which the authorities were very grateful, +and he heralded the completion of his gigantic combinations with regard +to the discovery of the assassin of the horse Sultan. Lola and I never +spoke of him without pain; for in spite of his crazy and bombastic +oddities, he had qualities that were lovable. + +“And now,” said Lola, “I must tell him that Hephaestus has been killed +and the rest are again idling under the care of the faithful Quast. It +seemed a pity to kill the poor beast.” + +“I wish to Heaven,” said I, “that he had been strangled at birth.” + +“You never liked him.” She smiled wanly. “But he is scarcely to be +blamed. I grew unaccountably nervous and lost control. All savage +animals are like that.” And, seeing that I was about to protest +vehemently, she smiled again. “Remember, I'm a lion-tamer's daughter, +and brought up from childhood to regard these things as part of the +show. There must always come a second's failure of concentration. Lots +of tamers meet their deaths sooner or later for the same reason--just a +sudden loss of magnetism. The beast gets frightened and springs.” + +Exactly what Quast had told me. Exactly what I myself had divined at +the sickening moment. I bowed my head and laid the back of her cool hand +against it, and groaned out my remorse. If I had not been there! If +I had not distracted her attention! She would not listen to my +self-reproach. It had nothing to do with me. She had simply missed her +grip and lost her head. She forbade me to mention the subject again. The +misery of thinking that I held myself to blame was unbearable. I said no +more, realising the acute distress of her generous soul, but in my heart +I made a deep vow of reparation. + +It was, however, with no such chivalrous feelings, but out of the simple +longing to fulfil my life that I asked her definitely, for the first +time, to marry me as soon as she could get about the world again. I put +before her with what delicacy I could that if she had foolish ideas of +my being above her in station, she was above me in worldly fortune, and +thus we both had to make some sacrifices to our pride. I said that my +work was found--that our lives could be regulated as she wished. + +She listened, without saying a word, until I had finished. Then she took +my hand. + +“I'm grateful,” she said, “and I'm proud. And I know that I love you +beyond all things on earth. But I won't give you an answer till I'm up +and about on my feet again.” + +“Why?” I insisted. + +“Don't ask. And don't mention the matter again. You must be good to me, +because I'm ill, and do what I say.” + +She smiled and fondled my hand, and cajoled a reluctant promise from me. + +Then came days in which, for no obvious reason, Lola received me +with anxious frightened diffidence, and spoke with constraint. The +cheerfulness which she had hitherto exhibited gave place to dull +depression. She urged me continually to leave Berlin, where, as she +said, I was wasting my time, and return to my work in London. + +“I shall be all right, Simon, perfectly all right, and as soon as I can +travel, I'll come straight to London.” + +“I'm not going to let you slip through my fingers again,” I would say +laughingly. + +“But I promise you, I'll swear to you I'll come back! Only I can't bear +to think of you idling around a woman's sick-bed, when you have such +glorious things to do at home. That's a man's work, Simon. This isn't.” + +“But it is a man's work,” I would declare, “to devote himself to the +woman he loves and not to leave her helpless, a stranger in a strange +land.” + +“I wish you would go, Simon. I do wish you would go!” she would say +wearily. “It's the only favour I've ever asked you in my life.” + +Man-like, I looked within myself to find the reason for these earnest +requests. In casting off my jester's suit had I also divested myself of +the power to be a decently interesting companion? Had I become merely a +dull, tactless, egotistical bore? Was I, in simple, naked, horrid fact, +getting on an invalid's delicate nerves? I was scared of the new picture +of myself thus presented. I became self-conscious and made particular +efforts to bring a little gaiety into our talk; but though she smiled +with her lips, the cloud, whatever it was, hung heavily on her mind, and +at the first opportunity she came back to the ceaseless argument. + +In despair I took her nurse into my confidence. + +“She is right,” said the nurse. “You are doing her more harm than good. +You had better go away and write to her daily from London.” + +“But why--but why?” I clamoured. “Can't you give me any reason?” + +The nurse glanced at me with a touch of feminine scorn. + +“The bandages will soon be removed.” + +“Well?” said I. + +“The sight of one eye may be gone.” + +“I know,” said I. “She is reconciled to it. She has the courage and +resignation of a saint.” + +“She has also the very common and natural fears of a woman.” + +“For Heaven's sake,” I cried, “tell me plainly what you mean.” + +“We don't quite know what disfigurement will result,” said the nurse +bluntly. “It is certain to be very great, and the dread of your seeing +her is making her ill and retarding her recovery. So if you have any +regard for her, pack up your things and go away.” + +“But,” I remonstrated, “I'm bound to see her sooner or later.” + +The nurse lost patience. “Ach! Can't you get it into your head that it +is essential it should be later, when she is strong enough to stand the +strain and has realised the worst and made her little preparations?” + +I accepted the rebuke meekly. The situation, when explained, was +comprehensible to the meanest masculine intelligence. + +“I will go,” said I. + +When I announced this determination to Lola she breathed a deep sigh of +relief. + +“I shall be so much happier,” she said. + +Then she raised both her arms and drew my head down until our lips met. +“Dear,” she whispered, still holding me, “if I hadn't run away from you +before I should run away now; but it would be silly to do it twice. So +I'll come to London as soon as the doctor will let me. But if you find +you don't and can't possibly love me I shan't feel hurt with you. I've +had some months, I know, of your love, and that will last me all my +life; and I know that whatever happens you'll be my very dear and +devoted friend.” + +“I shall be your lover always!” I swore. + +She shook her head and released me. A great pity welled up in my heart, +for I know now why she had forbidden me to speak of marriage, and in +some dim way I got to the depth of her woman's nature. I realised, +as far as a man can, how the sudden blasting of a woman's beauty must +revolutionise not only her own attitude towards the world, but her +conception of the world's attitude towards her. Only a few weeks before +she had gone about proudly conscious of her superb magnificence. It was +the triumphant weapon in her woman's armoury, to use when she so chose. +It had illuminated a man's journey (I knew and felt it now) through the +Valley of the Shadow. It had held his senses captive. It had brought him +to her feet. It was a charm that she could always offer to his eyes. +It was her glory and her pride to enhance it for his delectation. Her +beauty was herself. That gone, she had nothing but a worthless soul to +offer, and what woman would dream of offering a man her soul if she had +no casket in which to enshrine it? If I had presented this other aspect +of the case to Lola, she would have cried out, with perfect sincerity: + +“My soul! You get things like mine anywhere for twopence a dozen.” + +It was the blasting of her beauty that was the infinite matter. All +that I loved would be gone. She would have nothing left to give. The +splendour of the day had ceased, and now was coming the long, long, +dreary night, to meet which with dignity she was nerving her brave +heart. + +The tears were not far from my eyes when I said again softly: + +“Your lover always, dear.” + +“Make no promises,” she said, “except one.” + +“And that is?” + +“That you will write me often until I come home.” + +“Every day.” + +So we parted, and I returned to London and to my duties at Barbara's +Building. I wrote daily, and her dictated answers gave me knowledge of +her progress. To my immense relief, I heard that the oculist's skill had +saved her eyesight; but it could not obliterate the traces of the cruel +claws. + +The days, although fuller with work and interests, appeared long until +she came. I saw but little of the outside world. Dale, my sister Agatha, +Sir Joshua Oldfield, and Campion were the only friends I met. Dale was +ingenuously sympathetic when he head of the calamity. + +“What's going to happen?” he asked, after he had exhausted his +vocabulary of abuse on cats, Providence and Anastasius Papadopoulos. +“What's the poor dear going to do?” + +“If I am going to have any voice in the matter,” said I, “she is going +to marry me.” + +He wrung me by the hand enthusiastically and declared that I was the +splendidest fellow that ever lived. Then he sighed. + +“I am going about like a sheep without a leader. For Heaven's sake, +come back into politics. Form a hilarious little party of your +own--anything--so long as you're back and take me with you.” + +“Come to Barbara's Building,” said I. + +But he made a wry face, and said that he did not think Maisie would like +it. I laughed and put my hand on his shoulder. + +“My son, you have a leader already, and she has already tied a blue +riband round your woolly neck, and she is pulling you wherever she wants +to go. And it's all to the infinite advantage of your eternal soul.” + +Whereupon he grinned and departed to the sheepfold. + +At last Lola came. She begged me not to meet her at the station, but to +go round after dinner to Cadogan Gardens. + +Dawkins opened the door for me and showed me into the familiar +drawing-room. The long summer day was nearing its end, and only a dim +twilight came through the open windows. Lola was standing rigid on the +hearthrug, her hand shielding the whole of the right side of her face. +With the free hand she checked my impetuous advance. + +“Stop and look!” she said, and then dropped the shielding hand, and +stood before me with twitching lips and death in her eyes. I saw in a +flash the devastation that had been wrought; but, thank God, I pierced +beneath it to the anguish in her heart. The pity--the awful, poignant +pity--of it smote me. Everything that was man in me surged towards her. +What she saw in my eyes I know not; but in hers dawned a sudden wonder. +There was no recoil of shock, such as she had steeled herself to +encounter. I sprang forward and clasped her in my arms. Her stiffened +frame gradually relaxed and our lips met, and in that kiss all fears and +doubts were dissolved for ever. + +Some hours later she said: “If you are blind enough to care for a maimed +thing like me, I can't help it. I shall never understand it to my dying +day,” she added with a long sigh. + +“And you will marry me?” + +“I suppose I've got to,” she replied. And with the old pantherine twist +of her body she slid from her easy-chair to the ground and buried her +face on my knees. + + + +And that is the end of my story. We were quietly married three weeks +afterwards. Agatha, wishing to humour a maniac for whom she retained an +unreasonable affection, came to the wedding and treated Lola as only a +sweet lady could. But my doings passed her understanding. As for Jane, +my other sister, she cast me from her. People who did these things, she +maintained, must bear the consequences. I bore them bravely. It is only +now that my name is beginning to be noised abroad as that of one who +speaks with some knowledge on certain social questions that Jane holds +out the olive branch of fraternal peace. After a brief honeymoon Lola +insisted on joining me in Barbara's Building. A set of rooms next to +mine was vacant, and Campion, who welcomed a new worker, had the two +sets thrown into what house-agents term a commodious flat. She is now +Lady Superior of the Institution. The title is Campion's, and for some +odd feminine reason Lola is delighted with it. + +Yes, this is the end of the story which I began (it seems in a previous +incarnation) at Murglebed-on-Sea. + +The maiming of Lola's beauty has been the last jest which the +Arch-Jester has practised on me. I fancy he thought that this final +scurvy trick would wipe Simon de Gex for ever out of the ranks of his +rivals. But I flatter myself that, having snapped my fingers in his +face, the last laugh has been on my side. He has withdrawn discomfited +from the conflict and left me master of the ground. Love conquers all, +even the Arch-Jester. + +There are some who still point to me as one who has deliberately ruined +a brilliant career, who pity me as one who has gone under, who speak +with shrugged shoulders and uplifted eyebrows at my unfortunate marriage +and my obscure and cranky occupation. The world, they say, was at +my feet. So it was. But what the pitying critics lack the grace to +understand is that better than to have it under one's feet is to have +it, or that of it which matters, at one's heart. + +I sit in this tiny hotel by the sea and reflect that it is over three +years since I awoke from death and assumed a new avatar. And since my +marriage, what have been the happenings? + +Dale has just been elected for the Fensham Division of Westmoreland, and +he has already begun the line of sturdy young Kynnersleys, of which I +had eumoirous dreams long ago. Quast and the cats have passed into alien +hands. Anastasius Papadopoulos is dead. He died three months ago of +angina pectoris, and Lola was with him at the end. Eleanor Faversham has +married a Colonial bishop. Campion, too, has married--and married the +last woman in the world to whom one would have thought of mating him--a +frivolous butterfly of a creature who drags him to dinner-parties and +Ascot and suppers at the Savoy, and holds Barbara's Building and all +it connotes in vixenish detestation. He roars out the agony of his +philanthropic spirit to Lola and myself, who administer consolation and +the cold mutton that he loves. The story of his marriage is a little +lunatic drama all to itself and I will tell it some day. But now I +can only rough-sketch the facts. He works when he can at the beloved +creation of his life and fortune; but the brain that would be inadequate +to the self-protecting needs of a ferret controls the action of this +masterful enthusiast, and his one awful despair in life is to touch a +heart that might beat in the bosom of a vicious and calculating haddock. +I only mention this to explain how it has come to pass that Lola and I +are now all-powerful in Barbara's Building. It has become the child of +our adoption and we love it with a deep and almost fanatic affection. +Before Lola my influence and personality fade into nothingness. She is +the power, the terror, the adoration of Lambeth. If she chose she +could control the Parliamentary vote of the borough. Her great, direct, +large-hearted personality carries all before it. And with it there is +something of the uncanny. A feat of hers in the early days is by way of +becoming legendary. + +A woman, on the books of the Building, was about to bring a hopeless +human fragment into a grey world. Lola went to see what aid the Building +could provide. In front of the door lounged the husband, a hulking +porter in a Bermondsey factory. Glowering at his feet lay a vicious +mongrel dog--bull-terrier, Irish-terrier, mastiff--so did Lola with +her trained eye distinguish the strains. When she asked for his wife in +travail the chivalrous gentleman took his pipe from his mouth, spat, and +after the manner of his kind referred to the disfigurement of her face +in terms impossible to transcribe. She paid no attention. + +“I'm coming upstairs to see your wife.” + +“If you pass that door, s'welp me Gawd, I'll set the dog on yer.” + +She paused. He urged the dog, who bristled and growled and showed his +teeth. Lola picked the animal up, as she would have picked up a sofa +cushion, and threw him across the street. She went to where he had +fallen, ordered him to his feet, and the dog licked her hand. She came +back with a laugh. + +“I'll do the same to you if you don't let me in!” + +She pushed the hulking brute aside. He resisted and laid hands on her. +By some extraordinary tamer's art of which she had in vain tried to +explain to me the secret, and with no apparent effort, she glided away +from him and sent him cowering and subdued some feet beyond the lintel +of the door. The street, which was watching, went into a roar of +laughter and applause. Lola mounted the stairs and attended to the +business in hand. When she came down the man was still standing at the +threshold smoking an obfusticated pipe. He blinked at her as if she had +been a human dynamo. + +“Come round to Barbara's Building at six o'clock and tell me how she +is.” + +He came on the stroke of six. + +The fame of Lola spread through the borough, and now she can walk +feared, honoured, unmolested by night or by day through the streets +of horror and crime, which neither I nor any other man--no matter how +courageous--dare enter at certain hours without the magical protection +of a policeman. + +Sunshine has come at last, both into this little backwater of the world +by the sea and into my own life, and it is time I should end this futile +record. + +Yesterday as we lay on the sands, watching the waves idly lap the shore, +Lola brought herself nearer to me with a rhythmic movement as no other +creature form of woman is capable of, and looked into my eyes. And she +whispered something to me which led to an infinite murmuring of foolish +things. I put my arms round her and kissed her on the lips and on her +cheek--whether the beautiful or the maimed I knew not--and she sank into +a long, long silence. At last she said: + +“What are you thinking of?” + +I said, “I'm thinking that not a single human being on the face of the +earth has a sense of humour.” + +“What do you mean?” she asked. + +“Simply this,” said I, “that what has occurred billions of billions of +millions of times on the earth we are now regarding as the only thing +that ever happened.” + +“Well,” said Lola, “so it is--for us--the only thing that ever +happened.” + +And the astounding woman was right. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Simon the Jester, by William J. Locke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIMON THE JESTER *** + +***** This file should be named 3828-0.txt or 3828-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/2/3828/ + +Produced by Dagny; John Bickers; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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Locke + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Simon the Jester, by William J. Locke + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Simon the Jester + +Author: William J. Locke + +Release Date: April 13, 2006 [EBook #3828] +Last Updated: March 12, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIMON THE JESTER *** + + + + +Produced by Dagny; John Bickers; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + SIMON THE JESTER + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By William J. Locke + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + I met Renniker the other day at the club. He is a man who knows everything—from + the method of trimming a puppy's tail for a dog-show, without being + disqualified, to the innermost workings of the mind of every European + potentate. If I want information on any subject under heaven I ask + Renniker. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me,” said I, “the most God-forsaken spot in England?” + </p> + <p> + Renniker, being in a flippant mood, mentioned a fashionable watering-place + on the South Coast. I pleaded the seriousness of my question. + </p> + <p> + “What I want,” said I, “is a place compared to which Golgotha, Aceldama, + the Dead Sea, the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and the Bowery would be leafy + bowers of uninterrupted delight.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Murglebed-on-Sea is what you're looking for,” said Renniker. “Are + you going there at once?” + </p> + <p> + “At once,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “It's November,” said he, “and a villainous November at that; so you'll + see Murglebed-on-Sea in the fine flower of its desolation.” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him, went home, and summoned my excellent man Rogers. + </p> + <p> + “Rogers,” said I, “I am going to the seaside. I heard that Murglebed is a + nice quiet little spot. You will go down and inspect it for me and bring + back a report.” + </p> + <p> + He went blithe and light-hearted, though he thought me insane; he returned + with the air of a serving-man who, expecting to find a well-equipped + pantry, had wandered into a charnel house. + </p> + <p> + “It's an awful place, sir. It's sixteen miles from a railway station. The + shore is a mud flat. There's no hotel, and the inhabitants are like + cannibals.” + </p> + <p> + “I start for Murglebed-on-Sea to-morrow,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Rogers started at me. His loose mouth quivered like that of a child + preparing to cry. + </p> + <p> + “We can't possibly stay there, sir,” he remonstrated. + </p> + <p> + “<i>We</i> are not going to try,” I retorted. “I'm going by myself.” + </p> + <p> + His face brightened. Almost cheerfully he assured me that I should find + nothing to eat in Murglebed. + </p> + <p> + “You can amuse yourself,” said I, “by sending me down a daily hamper of + provisions.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't even a church,” he continued. + </p> + <p> + “Then you can send me down a tin one from Humphreys'. I believe they can + supply one with everything from a tin rabbit-hutch to a town hall.” + </p> + <p> + He sighed and departed, and the next day I found myself here, in + Murglebed-on-Sea. + </p> + <p> + On a murky, sullen November day Murglebed exhibits unimagined horrors of + scenic depravity. It snarls at you malignantly. It is like a bit of waste + land in Gehenna. There is a lowering, soap-suddy thing a mile away from + the more or less dry land which local ignorance and superstition call the + sea. The interim is mud—oozy, brown, malevolent mud. Sometimes it + seems to heave as if with the myriad bodies of slimy crawling eels and + worms and snakes. A few foul boats lie buried in it. + </p> + <p> + Here and there, on land, a surly inhabitant spits into it. If you address + him he snorts at you unintelligibly. If you turn your back to the sea you + are met by a prospect of unimagined despair. There are no trees. The + country is flat and barren. A dismal creek runs miles inland—an + estuary fed by the River Murgle. A few battered cottages, a general shop, + a couple of low public-houses, and three perky red-brick villas all in a + row form the city, or town, or village, or what you will, of + Murglebed-on-Sea. Renniker is a wonderful man. + </p> + <p> + I have rented a couple of furnished rooms in one of the villas. It has a + decayed bit of front garden in which a gnarled, stunted stick is planted, + and it is called The Laburnums. My landlord, the owner of the villas, is a + builder. What profits he can get from building in Murglebed, Heaven alone + knows; but, as he mounts a bicycle in the morning and disappears for the + rest of the day, I presume he careers over the waste, building as he goes. + In the evenings he gets drunk at the Red Cow; so I know little of him, + save that he is a red-faced man, with a Moustache like a tooth-brush and + two great hands like hams. + </p> + <p> + His wife is taciturn almost to dumbness. She is a thick-set, black-haired + woman, and looks at me disapprovingly out of the corner of her eye as if I + were a blackbeetle which she would like to squash under foot. She + tolerates me, however, on account of the tongues and other sustenance sent + by Rogers from Benoist, of which she consumes prodigious quantities. She + wonders, as far as the power of wonder is given to her dull brain, what on + earth I am doing here. I see her whispering to her friends as I enter the + house, and I know they are wondering what I am doing here. The whole + village regards me as a humorous zoological freak, and wonders what I am + doing here among normal human beings. + </p> + <p> + And what am I doing here—I, Simon de Gex, M.P., the spoilt darling + of fortune, as my opponent in the Labour interest called me during the + last electoral campaign? My disciple and secretary, young Dale Kynnersley, + the only mortal besides Rogers who knows my whereabouts, trembles for my + reason. In the eyes of the excellent Rogers I am horn-mad. What my + constituents would think did they see me taking the muddy air on a soggy + afternoon, I have no conception. Dale keeps them at bay. He also baffles + the curiosity of my sisters, and by his diplomacy has sent Eleanor + Faversham on a huffy trip to Sicily. She cannot understand why I bury + myself in bleak solitude, instead of making cheerful holiday among the + oranges and lemons of the South. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor is a girl with a thousand virtues, each of which she expects to + find in counterpart in the man to whom she is affianced. Until a week or + two ago I actually thought myself in love with Eleanor. There seemed a + whimsical attraction in the idea of marrying a girl with a thousand + virtues. Before me lay the pleasant prospect of reducing them—say, + ten at a time—until I reached the limit at which life was possible, + and then one by one until life became entertaining. I admired her + exceedingly—a strapping, healthy English girl who looked you + straight in the eyes and gripped you fearlessly by the hand. + </p> + <p> + My friends “lucky-dog'd” me until I began to smirk to myself at my own + good fortune. She visited the constituency and comported herself as if she + had been a Member's wife since infancy, thereby causing my heart to swell + with noble pride. This unparalleled young person compelled me to take my + engagement almost seriously. If I shot forth a jest, it struck against a + virtue and fell blunted to the earth. Indeed, even now I am sorry I can't + marry Eleanor. But marriage is out of the question. + </p> + <p> + I have been told by the highest medical authorities that I may manage to + wander in the flesh about this planet for another six months. After that I + shall have to do what wandering I yearn for through the medium of my + ghost. There is a certain humourousness in the prospect. Save for an + occasional pain somewhere inside me, I am in the most robust health. + </p> + <p> + But this same little pain has been diagnosed by the Faculty as the symptom + of an obscure disease. An operation, they tell me, would kill me on the + spot. What it is called I cannot for the life of me remember. They gave it + a kind of lingering name, which I wrote down on my shirt-cuff. + </p> + <p> + The name or characteristics of the thing, however, do not matter a fig. I + have always hated people who talked about their insides, and I am not + going to talk about mine, even to myself. Clearly, if it is only going to + last me six months, it is not worth talking about. But the quaint fact of + its brief duration is worth the attention of a contemplative mind. + </p> + <p> + It is in order perfectly to focus this attention that I have come to + Murglebed-on-Sea. Here I am alone with the murk and the mud and my own + indrawn breath of life. There are no flowers, blue sky, smiling eyes, and + dainty faces—none of the adventitious distractions of the earth. + There are no Blue-books. Before the Faculty made their jocular + pronouncement I had been filling my head with statistics on pauper lunacy + so as to please my constituency, in which the rate has increased + alarmingly of late years. Perhaps that is why I found myself their + representative in Parliament. I was to father a Bill on the subject next + session. Now the labour will fall on other shoulders. I interest myself in + pauper lunacy no more. A man requires less flippant occupation for the + premature sunset of his days. Well, in Murglebed I can think, I can weigh + the <i>pros</i> and <i>cons</i> of existence with an even mind, I can + accustom myself to the concept of a Great Britain without Simon de Gex. + M.P. + </p> + <p> + Of course, when I go I shall “cast one longing, lingering look behind.” I + don't particularly want to die. In fact, having otherwise the prospect of + an entertaining life, I regard my impending dissolution in the light of a + grievance. But I am not afraid. I shall go through the dismal formality + with a graceful air and as much of a smile on my face as the pain in my + inside will physically permit. + </p> + <p> + My dear but somewhat sober-sided friend Marcus Aurelius says: “Let death + surprise me when it will, and where it will, I may be <i>eumoiros</i>, or + a happy man, nevertheless. For he is a happy man who in his lifetime + dealeth unto himself a happy lot and portion. A happy lot and portion in + good inclinations of the soul, good desires, good actions.” + </p> + <p> + The word <i>eumoiros</i> according to the above definition, tickles my + fancy. I would give a great deal to be eumoirous. What a thing to say: “I + have achieved eumoiriety,”—namely the quintessence of + happy-fatedness dealt unto oneself by a perfect altruism! + </p> + <p> + I don't think that hitherto my soul has been very evilly inclined, my + desires base, or my actions those of a scoundrel. Still, the negatives do + not qualify one for eumoiriety. One wants something positive. I have an + idea, therefore, of actively dealing unto myself a happy lot or portion + according to the Marcian definition during the rest of the time I am + allowed to breathe the upper air. And this will be fairly easy; for no + matter how excellently a man's soul may be inclined to the performance of + a good action, in ninety cases out of a hundred he is driven away from it + by dread of the consequences. Your moral teachers seldom think of this—that + the consequences of a good action are often more disastrous than those of + an evil one. But if a man is going to die, he can do good with impunity. + He can simply wallow in practical virtue. When the boomerang of his + beneficence comes back to hit him on the head—<i>he won't be there + to feel it</i>. He can thus hoist Destiny with its own petard, and, + besides, being eumoirous, can spend a month or two in a peculiarly + diverting manner. The more I think of the idea the more am I in love with + it. I am going to have a seraph of a time. I am going to play the + archangel. + </p> + <p> + I shall always have pleasant memories of Murglebed. Such an idea could not + have germinated in any other atmosphere. In the scented groves of sunny + lands there would have been sown Seeds of Regret, which would have + blossomed eventually into Flowers of Despair. I should have gone about the + world, a modern Admetus, snivelling at my accursed luck, without even the + chance of persuading a soft-hearted Alcestis to die for me. I should have + been a dismal nuisance to society. + </p> + <p> + “Bless you,” I cried this afternoon, waving, as I leaned against a post, + my hand to the ambient mud, “Renniker was wrong! You are not a + God-forsaken place. You are impregnated with divine inspiration.” + </p> + <p> + A muddy man in a blue jersey and filthy beard who occupied the next post + looked at me and spat contemptuously. I laughed. + </p> + <p> + “If you were Marcus Aurelius,” said I, “I would make a joke—a short + life and an eumoiry one—and he would have looked as pained as you.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” he bawled. He was to windward of me. + </p> + <p> + I knew that if I repeated my observation he would offer to fight me. I + approached him suavely. + </p> + <p> + “I was wondering,” I said, “as it's impossible to strike a match in this + wind, whether you would let me light my pipe from yours.” + </p> + <p> + “It's empty,” he growled. + </p> + <p> + “Take a fill from my pouch,” said I. + </p> + <p> + The mud-turtle loaded his pipe, handed me my pouch without acknowledgment, + stuck his pipe in his breeches pocket, spat again, and, deliberately + turning his back, on me, lounged off to another post on a remoter and less + lunatic-ridden portion of the shore. Again I laughed, feeling, as the poet + did with the daffodils, that one could not but be gay in such a jocund + company. + </p> + <p> + There are no amenities or urbanities of life in Murglebed to choke the + growth of the Idea. This evening it flourishes so exceedingly that I think + it safe to transplant it in the alien soil of Q 3, The Albany, where the + good Rogers must be leading an idle existence peculiarly deleterious to + his morals. + </p> + <p> + This gives one furiously to think. One of the responsibilities of + eumoiriety must be the encouragement and development of virtue in my + manservant. + </p> + <p> + Also in my young friend and secretary, Dale Kynnersley. He is more to me + than Rogers. I may confess that, so long as Rogers is a sober, honest, + me-fearing valet, in my heart of hearts I don't care a hang about Rogers's + morals. But about those of Dale Kynnersley I do. I care a great deal for + his career and happiness. I have a notion that he is erring after strange + goddesses and neglecting the little girl who is in love with him. He must + be delivered. He must marry Maisie Ellerton, and the two of them must + bring lots of capable, clear-eyed Kynnersleys into the world. I long to be + their ghostly godfather. + </p> + <p> + Then there's Eleanor Faversham—but if I begin to draw up a programme + I shall lose that spontaneity of effort which, I take it, is one of the + chief charms of dealing unto oneself a happy lot and portion. No; my soul + abhors tabulation. It would make even six months' life as jocular as + Bradshaw's Railway Guide or the dietary of a prison. I prefer to look on + what is before me as a high adventure, and with that prospect in view I + propose to jot down my experiences from time to time, so that when I am + wandering, a pale shade by Acheron, young Dale Kynnersley may have not + only documentary evidence wherewith to convince my friends and relations + that my latter actions were not those of a lunatic, but also, at the same + time, an up-to-date version of Jeremy Taylor's edifying though + humour-lacking treatise on the act of dying, which I am sorely tempted to + label “The Rule and Example of Eumoiriety.” I shall resist the temptation, + however. Dale Kynnersley—such is the ignorance of the new generation—would + have no sense of the allusion. He would shake his head and say, “Dotty, + poor old chap, dotty!” I can hear him. And if, in order to prepare him, I + gave him a copy of the “Meditations,” he would fling the book across the + room and qualify Marcus Aurelius as a “rotter.” + </p> + <p> + Dale is a very shrewd fellow, and will make an admirable legislator when + his time comes. Although his highest intellectual recreation is reiterated + attendance at the musical comedy that has caught his fancy for the moment + and his favourite literature the sporting pages of the daily papers, he + has a curious feline pounce on the salient facts of a political situation, + and can thread the mazes of statistics with the certainty of a Hampton + Court guide. His enthusiastic researches (on my behalf) into pauper lunacy + are remarkable in one so young. I foresee him an invaluable chairman of + committee. But he will never become a statesman. He has too passionate a + faith in facts and figures, and has not cultivated a sense of humour at + the expense of the philosophers. Young men who do not read them lose a + great deal of fun. + </p> + <p> + Well, to-morrow I leave Murglebed for ever; it has my benison. Democritus + returns to London. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + I was at breakfast on the morning after my arrival in London, when Dale + Kynnersley rushed in and seized me violently by the hand. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, here you are at last!” + </p> + <p> + I smoothed my crushed fingers. “You have such a vehement manner of + proclaiming the obvious, my dear Dale.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, rot!” he said. “Here, Rogers, give me some tea—and I think I'll + have some toast and marmalade.” + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you breakfasted?” + </p> + <p> + A cloud overspread his ingenuous countenance. + </p> + <p> + “I came down late, and everything was cold and mother was on edge. The + girls are always doing the wrong things and I never do the right ones—you + know the mater—so I swallowed a tepid kidney and rushed off.” + </p> + <p> + “Save for her worries over you urchins,” said I, “I hope Lady Kynnersley + is well?” + </p> + <p> + He filled his mouth with toast and marmalade, and nodded. He is a + good-looking boy, four-and-twenty—idyllic age! He has sleek black + hair brushed back from his forehead over his head, an olive complexion, + and a keen, open, clean-shaven face. He wore a dark-brown lounge suit and + a wine-coloured tie, and looked immaculate. I remember him as the + grubbiest little wretch that ever disgraced Harrow. + </p> + <p> + He swallowed his mouthful and drank some tea. + </p> + <p> + “Recovered your sanity?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “The dangerous symptoms have passed over,” I replied. “I undertake not to + bite.” + </p> + <p> + He regarded me as though he were not quite certain, and asked in his + pronounless way whether I was glad to be back in London. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I. “Rogers is the only human creature who can properly wax the + ends of my moustache. It got horribly limp in the air of Murglebed. That + is the one and only disadvantage of the place.” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn't seem to have done you much good,” he remarked, scanning me + critically. “You are as white as you were before you went away. Why the + blazes you didn't go to Madeira, or the South of France, or South Africa I + can't imagine.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't suppose you can,” said I. “Any news?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think I have! But first let me go through the appointments.” + </p> + <p> + He consulted a pocket-book. On December 2nd I was to dine with Tanners' + Company and reply to the toast of “The House of Commons.” On the 4th my + constituency claimed me for the opening of a bazaar at Wymington. A little + later I was to speak somewhere in the North of England at a by-election in + support of the party candidate. + </p> + <p> + “It will be fought on Tariff Reform, about which I know nothing,” I + objected. + </p> + <p> + “I know everything,” he declared. “I'll see you through. You must buck up + a bit, Simon, and get your name better known about the country. And this + brings me to my news. I was talking to Raggles the other day—he + dropped a hint, and Raggles's hints are jolly well worth while picking up. + Just come to the front and show yourself, and there's a place in the + Ministry.” + </p> + <p> + “Ministry?” + </p> + <p> + “Sanderson's going.” + </p> + <p> + “Sanderson?” I queried, interested, in spite of myself, at these + puerilities. “What's the matter with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Swelled head. There have been awful rows—this is confidential—and + he's got the hump. Thinks he ought to be the Chancellor of the Exchequer, + or at least First Lord, instead of an Under Secretary. So he's going to + chuck it, before he gets the chuck himself—see?” + </p> + <p> + “I perceive,” said I, “that your conversational English style is + abominable.” + </p> + <p> + He lit a cigarette and continued, loftily taking no notice of my rebuke. + </p> + <p> + “There's bound to be a vacancy. Why shouldn't you fill it? They seem to + want you. You're miles away over the heads of the average solemn duffers + who get office.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed acknowledgment of his tribute. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you will buck up and try for it, won't you? I'm awfully proud of + you already, but I should go off my head with joy if you were in the + Ministry.” + </p> + <p> + I met his honest young eyes as well as I could. How was I going to convey + to his candid intelligence the fact of my speedy withdrawal from political + life without shattering his illusions? Besides, his devotion touched me, + and his generous aspirations were so futile. Office! It was in my grasp. + Raggles, with his finger always on the pulse of the party machine, was the + last man in the world to talk nonsense. I only had to “buck up.” Yet by + the time Sanderson sends in his resignation to the King of England, I + shall have sent in mine to the King of Hosts. I moved slightly in my + chair, and a twinge of the little pain inside brought a gasp to my throat. + But I felt grateful to it. It was saving me from an unconscionable deal of + worry. Fancy going to a confounded office every morning like a clerk in + the City! I was happier at peace. I rose and warmed myself by the fire. + Dale regarded me uncomprehendingly. + </p> + <p> + “You look as if the prospect bored you to tears. I thought you would be + delighted.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Vanitas vanitatum</i>,” said I. “<i>Omnia vanitas</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Rot!” said Dale. + </p> + <p> + “It's true.” + </p> + <p> + “I must fetch Eleanor Faversham back from Sicily,” said Dale. + </p> + <p> + “Don't,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I give you up,” he declared, pushing his chair from the table and + swinging one leg across the other. I leaned forward and scrutinised his + ankles. + </p> + <p> + “What are you looking at?” + </p> + <p> + “There must be something radically wrong with you, Dale,” I murmured + sympathetically. “It is part of the religion of your generation to wear + socks to match your tie. To-day your tie is wine-coloured and your socks + are green——” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord,” he cried, “so they are! I dressed myself anyhow this + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “What's wrong with you?” + </p> + <p> + He threw his cigarette impatiently into the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Every infernal thing that can possibly be. Everything's rotten—but + I've not come here to talk about myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't the game. I'm here on your business, which is ever so much more + important than mine. Where are this morning's letters?” + </p> + <p> + I pointed to an unopened heap on a writing-table at the end of the room. + He crossed and sat down before them. Presently he turned sharply. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't looked through the envelopes. Here is one from Sicily.” + </p> + <p> + I took the letter from him, and sighed to myself as I read it. Eleanor was + miserable. The Sicilians were dirty. The Duomo of Palermo did not come up + to her expectations. The Mobray-Robertsons, with whom she travelled, + quarrelled with their food. They had never even heard of Theocritus. She + had a cold in her head, and was utterly at a loss to explain my attitude. + Therefore she was coming back to London. + </p> + <p> + I wish I could find her a nice tame husband who had heard of Theocritus. + It would be such a good thing for everybody, husband included. For, I + repeat, Eleanor is a young woman of fine character, and the man to whom + she gives her heart will be a fortunate fellow. + </p> + <p> + While I was reading the letter and meditating on it, with my back to the + fire, Dale plunged into the morning's correspondence with an air of + enjoyment. That is the astonishing thing about him. He loves work. The + more I give him to do the better he likes it. His cronies, who in raiment, + manners, and tastes differ from him no more than a row of pins differs + from a stray brother, regard a writing-chair as a mediaeval instrument of + torture, and faint at the sight of ink. They will put themselves to all + kinds of physical and pecuniary inconvenience in order to avoid regular + employment. They are the tramps of the fashionable world. But in vain do + they sing to Dale of the joys of silk-hatted and patent-leather-booted + vagabondage and deride his habits of industry; Dale turns a deaf ear to + them and urges on his strenuous career. Rogers, coming in to clear away + the breakfast things, was despatched by my young friend to fetch a + portfolio from the hall. It contained, he informed me, the unanswered + letters of the past fortnight with which he had found himself unqualified + to deal. He grasped the whole bundle of correspondence, and invited me to + follow him to the library and start on a solid morning's work. I obeyed + meekly. He sat down at the big table, arranged the pile in front of him, + took a pencil from the tray, and began: + </p> + <p> + “This is from Finch, of the <i>Universal Review</i>.” + </p> + <p> + I put my hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him, my boy, that it's against my custom to breakfast at afternoon + tea, and that I hope his wife is well.” + </p> + <p> + At his look of bewilderment I broke into a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “He wants me to write a dull article for his stupid paper, doesn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, on Poor Law Administration.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to do anything these people ask me. + Say 'No, no, no, no,' to everybody.” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven's name, Simon,” he cried, laying down his pencil, “what has + come over you?” + </p> + <p> + “Old age,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He uttered his usual interjection, and added that I was only thirty-seven. + </p> + <p> + “Age is a relative thing,” I remarked. “Babes of five have been known to + die of senile decay, and I have seen irresponsible striplings of seventy.” + </p> + <p> + “I really think Eleanor Faversham had better come back from Sicily.” + </p> + <p> + I tapped the letter still in my hand. “She's coming.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm jolly glad to hear it. It's all my silly fault that she went away. I + thought she was getting on your nerves. But you want pulling together. + That confounded place you've been to has utterly upset you.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” said I, “it has steadied and amplified my conception of + sublunary affairs. It has shown me that motley is much more profitable + wear than the edged toga of the senator—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, for God's sake, dry up,” cried young England, “and tell me what + answers I'm to give these people!” + </p> + <p> + He seemed so earnest about it that I humoured him; and my correspondents + seemed so earnest that I humoured them. But it was a grim jest. Most of + the matters with which I had to deal appeared so trivial. Only here and + there did I find a chance for eumoiriety. The Wymington Hospital applied + for their annual donation. + </p> + <p> + “You generally give a tenner,” said Dale. + </p> + <p> + “This time I'll give them a couple of hundred,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Dale earmarked the amount wonderingly; but when I ordered him to send five + pounds apiece to the authors of various begging letters he argued + vehemently and quoted the Charity Organisation Society. + </p> + <p> + “They're frauds, all of them,” he maintained. + </p> + <p> + “They're poor necessitous devils, at any rate,” said I, “and they want the + money more than I do.” + </p> + <p> + This was a truth whose significance Dale was far from realising. Of what + value, indeed, is money to me? There is none to whom I can usefully + bequeath my little fortune, my sisters having each married rich men. I + shall not need even Charon's obolus when I am dead, for we have ceased to + believe in him—which is a pity, as the trip across the Styx must + have been picturesque. Why, then, should I not deal myself a happy lot and + portion by squandering my money benevolently during my lifetime? + </p> + <p> + It behooves me, however, to walk warily in this as in other matters, for + if my actions too closely resemble those of a lunatic at large, trustees + may be appointed to administer my affairs, which would frustrate my plans + entirely. + </p> + <p> + When my part in the morning's work was over, I informed my secretary that + I would go out and take the air till lunch-time. + </p> + <p> + “If you've nothing better to do,” said he, “you might run round to + Eccleston Square and see my mother.” + </p> + <p> + “For any particular reason?” + </p> + <p> + “She wants to see you. Home for inebriate parrots or something. Gave me a + message for you this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wait,” said I, “on Lady Kynnersley with pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + I went out and walked down the restful covered way of the Albany to the + Piccadilly entrance, and began my taking of the air. It was a soft + November day, full of blue mist, and invested with a dying grace by a pale + sunshine struggling through thin, grey rain-cloud. It was a faded lady of + a day—a lady of waxen cheeks, attired in pearl-grey and old lace, + her dim eyes illumined by a last smile. It gave an air of unreality to the + perspective of tall buildings, and treated with indulgent irony the + passing show of humans—on foot, on omnibuses, in cabs and motors—turning + them into shadow shapes tending no whither. I laughed to myself. They all + fancied themselves so real. They all had schemes in their heads, as if + they were going to live a thousand years. I walked westwards past the + great clubs, moralising as I went, and feeling the reaction from the + excitement of Murglebed-on-Sea. I looked up at one of my own clubs, a + comfortable resting-place, and it struck me as possessing more attractions + than the family vault in Highgate Cemetery. An acquaintance at the window + waved his hand at me. I thought him a lucky beggar to have that window to + stand by when the street will be flooded with summer sunshine and the + trees in the green Park opposite wave in their verdant bravery. A little + further a radiant being, all chiffons and millinery, on her way to Bond + Street for more millinery and chiffons, smiled at me and put forth a + delicately-gloved hand. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. de Gex, you're the very man I was longing to see!” + </p> + <p> + “How simply are some human aspirations satisfied!” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Farfax”—that's her husband, Farfax Glenn, a Member on my side of + the House—“Farfax and I are making plans already for the Easter + recess. We are going to motor to Athens, and you must come with us. You + can tell us all about everything as we pass by.” + </p> + <p> + I looked grave. “Easter is late next year.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter? Say you'll come.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! my dear Mrs. Glenn,” I said, with a smile, “I have an engagement at + Easter—a very important one.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought the wedding was not to take place till June.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't the wedding,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Then break the engagement.” + </p> + <p> + “It's beyond human power,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She held up her bracelet, from which dangled some charms. + </p> + <p> + “I think you're a ——” And she pointed to a little golden pig. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not,” I retorted. + </p> + <p> + “What are you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a gentleman in a Greek tragedy.” + </p> + <p> + We laughed and parted, and I went on my way cheered by the encounter. I + had spoken the exact truth, and found amusement in doing so. One has often + extracted humour from the contemplation of the dissolution of others—that + of the giant in “Jack the Giant-killer” for instance, and the demise of + the little boy with the pair of skates in the poem. Why not extract it + from the contemplation of one's own? + </p> + <p> + The only disadvantage of my position is that it give me, in spite of + myself, an odd sense of isolation from my kind. They are looking forward + to Easters and Junes and summers, and I am not. I also have a fatuous + feeling of superiority in being in closer touch than they with eternal + verities. I must take care that I do not play too much to the gallery, + that I do not grow too conceited over the singularity of my situation, and + arrive at the mental attitude of the criminal whose dominant solicitude in + connection with his execution was that he should be hanged in his dress + clothes. These reflections brought me to Eccleston Square. + </p> + <p> + Lady Kynnersley is that type of British matron who has children in fits of + absent-mindedness, and to whom their existence is a perpetual shock. Her + main idea in marrying the late Sir Thomas Kynnersley was to associate + herself with his political and philanthropic schemes. She is the born + committee woman, to whom a home represents a place where one sleeps and + eats in order to maintain the strength required for the performance of + committee duties. Her children have always been outside the sphere of her + real interests, but, afflicted, as such women are, with chronic + inflammation of the conscience, she had devoted the most scrupulous care + to their upbringing. She formed herself into a society for the protection + of her own children, and managed them by means of a committee, which + consisted of herself, and of which she was the honorary secretary. She + drew up articles of association and regulations. If Dale contracted + measles, she applied by-law 17. If Janet slapped Dorothy, by-law 32 was + brought into play. When Dale clamoured for a rocking-horse, she found that + the articles of association did not provide for imaginative equitation. As + the children grew up, the committee had from time to time to revise the + articles and submit them to the general body for approval. There were many + meetings before the new sections relating to a University career for the + boy and the coming out for the girls were satisfactorily drafted. Once + given the effect of law, however, there was no appeal against these + provisions. Both committee and general body were powerless. Dale certainly + owed his methodical habits to his mechanical training, but whence he + derived and how he maintained his exuberance and spontaneity has often + puzzled me. He himself accounts for it on the score of heredity, in that + an ancestress of his married a highwayman who was hanged at Tyburn under + William and Mary. + </p> + <p> + In person Lady Kynnersley is lean and blanched and grey-haired. She wears + gold spectacles, which stand out oddly against the thin whiteness of her + face; she is still a handsome, distinguished woman, who can have, when she + chooses, a most gracious manner. As I, worldling and jester though I am, + for some mysterious reason have found favour in the lady's eyes, she + manifests this graciousness whenever we foregather. Ergo, I like Lady + Kynnersley, and would put myself to much inconvenience in order to do her + a service. + </p> + <p> + She kept me waiting in the drawing-room but a minute before she made her + appearance, grasped my hand, proclaimed my goodness in responding so soon + to her call, bade me sit down on the sofa by her side, inquired after my + health, and, the gods of politeness being propitiated, plunged at once + into the midst of matters. + </p> + <p> + Dale was going downhill headlong to Gadarene catastrophe. He had no eyes + or ears or thoughts for any one in the world but for a certain Lola + Brandt, a brazen creature from a circus, the shape of whose limbs was the + common knowledge of mankind from Dublin to Yokohama, and whose path by sea + and land, from Yokohama to Dublin, was strewn with the bodies of her + victims. With this man-eating tigress, declared Lady Kynnersley, was Dale + infatuated. He scorched himself morning, noon, and night in her + devastating presence. Had cut himself adrift from home, from society. Had + left trailing about on his study table a jeweller's bill for a diamond + bracelet. Was committing follies that made my brain reel to hear. Had + threatened, if worried much longer, to marry the Scarlet One + incontinently. Heaven knew, cried Lady Kynnersley, how many husbands she + had already—scattered along the track between Dublin and Yokohama. + There was no doubt about it. Dale was hurtling down to everlasting + bonfire. She looked to me to hold out the restraining hand. + </p> + <p> + “You have already spoken to Dale on the subject?” I asked, mindful of the + inharmonious socks and tie. + </p> + <p> + “I can talk to him of nothing else,” said Lady Kynnersley desperately. + </p> + <p> + “That's a pity,” said I. “You should talk to him of Heaven, or pigs, or + Babylonic cuneiform—anything but Lola Brandt. You ought to go to + work on a different system.” + </p> + <p> + “But I haven't a system at all,” cried the poor lady. “How was I to + foresee that my only son was going to fall in love with a circus rider? + These are contingencies in life for which one, with all the thought in the + world, can make no provision. I had arranged, as you know, that he should + marry Maisie Ellerton, as charming a girl as ever there was. Isn't she? + And an independent fortune besides.” + </p> + <p> + “A rosebud wrapped in a gold leaf,” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Now he's breaking the child's heart——” + </p> + <p> + “There was never any engagement between them, I am sure of that,” I + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “There wasn't. But I gave her to understand it was a settled affair—merely + a question of Dale speaking. And, instead of speaking, he will have + nothing to do with her, and spends all his time—and, I suppose, + though I don't like to refer to it, all his money—in the society of + this unmentionable woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she really so—so red as she is painted?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “She isn't painted at all. That's where her artful and deceitful devilry + comes in——” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose Dale,” said I, “declares her to be an angel of light and + purity?” + </p> + <p> + “An angel on horseback! Whoever heard of such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + “It's the name of a rather fiery savoury,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “In a circus!” she continued. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “the ring of a circus is not essentially one of the + circles in Dante's Inferno.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, my dear Simon,” she said, with some impatience, “if you defend + him—” + </p> + <p> + I hastened to interrupt her. “I don't. I think he is an egregious young + idiot; but before taking action it's well to get a clear idea of the + facts. By the way, how do you know she's not painted?” + </p> + <p> + “I've seen her—seen her with my own eyes in Dale's company—at + the Savoy. He's there supping with her every night. General Lamont told + me. I wouldn't believe it—Dale flaunting about in public with her. + The General offered to take me there after the inaugural meeting of the + International Aid Society at Grosvenor House. I went, and saw them + together. I shall never forget the look in the boy's eyes till my dying + day. She has got him body and soul. One reads of such things in the poets, + one sees it in pictures; but I've never come across it in real life—never, + never. It's dreadful, horrible, revolting. To think that a son of mine, + brought up from babyhood to calculate all his actions with mathematical + precision, should be guilty of this profligacy! It's driving me mad, + Simon; it really is. I don't know what to do. I've come to the end of my + resources. It's your turn now. The boy worships you.” + </p> + <p> + A wild appeal burned in her eyes and was refracted oddly through her + near-sighted spectacles. I had never seen her betray emotion before during + all the years of our friendship. The look and the tone of her voice moved + me. I expressed my sympathy and my readiness to do anything in my power to + snatch the infatuated boy from the claw and fang of the syren and hale him + to the forgiving feet of Maisie Ellerton. Indeed, such a chivalrous + adventure had vaguely passed through my mind during my exalted mood at + Murglebed-on-Sea. But then I knew little beyond the fact that Dale was + fluttering round an undesirable candle. Till now I had no idea of the + extent to which his wings were singed. + </p> + <p> + “Hasn't Dale spoken to you about this creature?” his mother asked. + </p> + <p> + “Young men of good taste keep these things from their elders, my dear Lady + Kynnersley,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “But you knew of it?” + </p> + <p> + “In a dim sort of way.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Simon—” + </p> + <p> + “The baby boys of Dale's set regard taking out the chorus to supper as a + solemn religious rite. They wouldn't think themselves respectable if they + didn't. I've done it myself—in moderation—when I was very + young.” + </p> + <p> + “Men are mysteries,” sighed Lady Kynnersley. + </p> + <p> + “Please regard them as such,” said I, with a laugh, “and let Dale alone. + Allow him to do whatever irrational thing he likes, save bringing the lady + here to tea. If you try to tear him away from her he'll only cling to her + the closer. If you trumpet abroad her infamy he'll proclaim her a + slandered and martyred saint. Leave him to me for the present.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do so gladly,” said Lady Kynnersley, with surprising meekness. “But + you <i>will</i> bring him back, Simon? I've arranged for him to marry + Maisie. I can't have my plans for the future upset.” + </p> + <p> + By-law 379! Dear, excellent, but wooden-headed woman! + </p> + <p> + “I have your promise, haven't I?” she said, her hand in mine. + </p> + <p> + “You have,” said I nobly. + </p> + <p> + But how in the name of Astaroth I'm going to keep it I haven't the + remotest conception. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + Some letters in Dale's round handwriting lay on the library table awaiting + my signature. Dale himself had gone. A lady had called for him, said + Rogers, in an electric brougham. As my chambers are on the second floor + and the staircase half-way down the arcade, Rogers's detailed information + surprised me. I asked him how he knew. + </p> + <p> + “A chauffeur in livery, sir, came to the door and said that the brougham + was waiting for Mr. Kynnersley.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see how the lady came in,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “She didn't, sir. She remained in the brougham,” said Rogers. + </p> + <p> + So Lola Brandt keeps an electric brougham. + </p> + <p> + I lunched at the club, and turned up the article “Lola Brandt” in the + living encyclopaedia—that was my friend Renniker. The wonderful man + gave me her history from the cradle to Cadogan Gardens, where she now + resides. I must say that his details were rather vague. She rode in a + circus or had a talking horse—he was not quite sure; and concerning + her conjugal or extra-conjugal heart affairs he admitted that his + information was either unauthenticated or conjectural. At any rate, she + had not a shred of reputation. And she didn't want it, said Renniker; it + would be as much use to her as a diving suit. + </p> + <p> + “She has young Dale Kynnersley in tow,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “So I gather,” said I. “And now can you tell me something else? What is + the present state of political parties in Guatemala?” + </p> + <p> + I was not in the least interested in Guatemala; but I did not care to + discuss Dale with Renniker. When he had completed his sketch of affairs in + that obscure republic, I thanked him politely and ordered coffee. + </p> + <p> + Feeling in a gregarious, companionable humour—I have had enough + solitude at Murglebed to last me the rest of my short lifetime—I + went later in the afternoon to Sussex Gardens to call on Mrs. Ellerton. It + was her day at home, and the drawing-room was filled with chattering + people. I stayed until most of them were gone, and then Maisie dragged me + to the inner room, where a table was strewn with the wreckage of tea. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't had any,” she said, grasping the teapot and pouring a treacly + liquid into a cup. “You must have some more. Do you like it black, or with + milk?” + </p> + <p> + She is a dainty slip of a girl, with deep grey eyes and wavy brown hair + and a sea-shell complexion. I absently swallowed the abomination she + handed me, for I was looking at her over the teacup and wondering how an + exquisite-minded gentleman like Dale could forsake her for a Lola Brandt. + It was not as if Maisie were an empty-headed, empty-natured little girl. + She is a young person of sense, education, and character. She also adores + musical comedy and a band at dinner: an excellent thing in woman—when + she is very young. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Because, my dear Maisie,” said I, “you are good to look upon. You are + also dropping a hairpin.” + </p> + <p> + She hastily secured the dangling thing. “I did my hair anyhow to-day,” she + explained. + </p> + <p> + Again I thought of Dale's tie and socks. The signs of a lover's “careless + desolation,” described by Rosalind so minutely, can still be detected in + modern youth of both sexes. I did not pursue the question, but alluded to + autumn gaieties. She spoke of them without enthusiasm. Miss Somebody's + wedding was very dull, and Mrs. Somebody Else's dance manned with vile and + vacuous dancers. At the Opera the greatest of German sopranos sang false. + All human institutions had taken a crooked turn, and her cat could not be + persuaded to pay the commonest attention to its kittens. Then she asked me + nonchalantly: + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen anything of Dale lately?” + </p> + <p> + “He was working with me this morning. I've been away, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I forgot.” + </p> + <p> + “When did you last see him?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ages ago! He has not been near us for weeks. We used to be such + friends. I don't think it's very polite of him, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll order him to call forthwith,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please don't! If he won't come of his own accord—I don't want + to see him particularly.” + </p> + <p> + She tossed her shapely head and looked at me bravely. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right,” said I. “Dale's a selfish, ill-mannered young cub.” + </p> + <p> + “He isn't!” she flashed. “How dare you say such things about him!” + </p> + <p> + I smiled and took both her hands—one of them held a piece of brown + bread-and-butter. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said I, “model yourself on Little Bo-Peep. I don't know who + gave her the famous bit of advice, but I think it was I myself in a + pastoral incarnation. I had a woolly cloak and a crook, and she was like a + Dresden china figure—the image of you.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes swam, but she laughed and said I was good to her. I said: + </p> + <p> + “The man who wouldn't be good to you is an unhung villain.” + </p> + <p> + Then her mother joined us, and our little confidential talk came to an + end. It was enough, however, to convince me that my poor little Ariadne + was shedding many desperate tears in secret over her desertion. + </p> + <p> + On my way home I looked in on my doctor. His name is Hunnington. He + grasped me by the hand and eagerly inquired whether my pain was worse. I + said it was not. He professed delight, but looked disappointed. I ought to + have replied in the affirmative. It is so easy to make others happy. + </p> + <p> + I dined, read a novel, and went to sleep in the cheerful frame of mind + induced by the consciousness of having made some little progress on the + path of eumoiriety. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Dale made his customary appearance. He wore a morning + coat, a dark tie, and patent-leather boots. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “have you dressed more carefully today?” + </p> + <p> + He looked himself anxiously over and inquired whether there was anything + wrong. I assured him of the impeccability of his attire, and commented on + its splendour. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to take Maisie out to lunch?” + </p> + <p> + He started and reddened beneath his dark skin. Before he could speak I + laid my hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I'm an old friend, Dale. You mustn't be angry with me. But don't you + think you're treating Maisie rather badly?” + </p> + <p> + “You've no right to say so,” he burst out hotly. “No one has the right to + say so. There was never a question of an engagement between Maisie and + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there ought to have been,” I said judicially. “No decent man plays + fast and loose with a girl and throws her over just at the moment when he + ought to be asking her to marry him.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose my mother's been at you. That's what she wanted to see you + about yesterday. I wish to God she would mind her own business.” + </p> + <p> + “And that I would mind mine?” + </p> + <p> + Dale did not reply. For some odd reason he is devotedly attached to me, + and respects my opinion on worldly matters. He walked to the window and + looked out. Presently, without turning round, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she has been rubbing it in about Lola Brandt?” + </p> + <p> + “She did mention the lady's name,” said I. “So did Renniker at the club. I + suppose every one you know and many you don't are mentioning it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what if they are?” + </p> + <p> + “They're creating an atmosphere about your name which is scarcely that in + which to make an entrance into public life.” + </p> + <p> + Still with his back turned, he morosely informed me in his vernacular that + he contemplated public life with feelings of indifference, and was + perfectly prepared to abandon his ambitions. I took up my parable, the + same old parable that wise seniors have preached to the deluded young from + time immemorial. I have seldom held forth so platitudinously even in the + House of Commons. I spoke as impressively as a bishop. In the midst of my + harangue he came and sat by the library table and rested his chin on his + palm, looking at me quietly out of his dark eyes. His mildness encouraged + me to further efforts. I instanced cases of other young men of the world + who had gone the way of the flesh and had ended at the devil. + </p> + <p> + There was Paget, of the Guards, eaten to the bone by the Syren—not + even the gold lace on his uniform left. There was Merridew, once the hope + of the party, now living in ignoble obscurity with an old and painted + mistress, whom he detested, but to whom habit and sapped will-power kept + him in thrall. There was Bullen, who blew his brains out. In a generous + glow I waxed prophetic and drew a vivid picture of Dale's moral, mental, + physical, financial, and social ruin, and finished up in a masterly + peroration. + </p> + <p> + Then, without moving, he calmly said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear Simon, you are talking through your hat!” + </p> + <p> + He had allowed me to walk backwards and forwards on the hearthrug before a + blazing fire, pouring out the wealth of my wisdom, experience, and + rhetoric for ten minutes by the clock, and then coolly informed me that I + was talking through my hat. + </p> + <p> + I wiped my forehead, sat down, and looked at him across the table in + surprise and indignation. + </p> + <p> + “If you can point out one irrelevant or absurd remark in my homily, I'll + eat the hat through which you say I'm talking.” + </p> + <p> + “The whole thing is rot from beginning to end!” said he. “None of you good + people know anything at all about Lola Brandt. She's not the sort of woman + you think. She's quite different. You can't judge her by ordinary + standards. There's not a woman like her in the wide world!” + </p> + <p> + I made a gesture of discouragement. The same old parable of the wise had + evoked the same old retort from the deluded young. She was quite different + from other women. She was misunderstood by the cynical and gross-minded + world. A heart of virgin purity beat beneath her mercenary bosom. Her + lurid past had been the reiterated martyrdom of a noble nature. O Golden + Age! O unutterable silliness of Boyhood! + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven's sake, don't talk in that way!” he cried (I had been talking + in that way), and he rose and walked like a young tiger about the room. “I + can't stand it. I've gone mad about her. She has got into my blood + somehow. I think about her all day long, and I can't sleep at night. I + would give up any mortal thing on earth for her. She is the one woman in + the world for me! She's the dearest, sweetest, tenderest, most beautiful + creature God ever made!” + </p> + <p> + “And you honour and respect her—just as you would honour and respect + Maisie?” I asked quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do!” he flashed. “Don't I tell you that you know nothing + whatever about her? She is the dearest, sweetest——” etc., etc. + And he continued to trumpet forth the Olympian qualities of the Syren and + his own fervent adoration. I was the only being to whom he had opened his + heart, and, the floodgates being set free, the torrent burst forth in this + tempestuous and incoherent manner. I let him go on, for I thought it did + him good; but his rhapsody added very little to my information. + </p> + <p> + The lady who had “houp-la'd” her way from Dublin to Yokohama was the + spotless queen of beauty, and Dale was frenziedly, idiotically in love + with her. That was all I could gather. When he had finished, which he did + somewhat abruptly, he threw himself into a chair and took out his + cigarette-case with shaky fingers. + </p> + <p> + “There. I suppose I've made a damn-fool exhibition of myself,” he said, + defiantly. “What have you got to say about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” I replied, “what I said before. I'll repeat it, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, what more was there to say for the present about the lunatic + business? I had come to the end of my arguments. + </p> + <p> + He reflected for a moment, then rose and came over to the fireplace. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Simon, you must let me go my own way in this. In matters of + politics and worldly wisdom and social affairs and honourable dealing and + all that sort of thing I would follow you blindly. You're my chief, and a + kind of elder brother as well. I would do any mortal thing for you. You + know that. But you've no right to try to guide me in this matter. You know + no more about it than my mother. You've had no experience. You've never + let yourself go about a woman in your life. Lord of Heaven, man, you have + never begun to know what it means!” + </p> + <p> + Oh, dear me! Here was the situation as old as the return of the Prodigal + or the desertion of the trusting village maiden, or any other cliche in + the melodrama of real life. “You are making a fool of yourself,” says + Mentor. “Ah,” shrieks Telemachus, “but you never loved! You don't know + what love is.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him whimsically. + </p> + <p> + “Don't I?” + </p> + <p> + My thoughts sped back down the years to a garden in France. Her name was + Clothilde. We met in a manner outrageous to Gallic propriety, as I used to + climb over the garden wall to the peril of my epidermis. We loved. We were + parted by stern parents—not mine—and Clothilde was packed off + to the good Sisters who had previously had care of her education. Now she + is fat and happy, and the wife of a banker and the mother of children. + </p> + <p> + But the romance was sad and bad and mad enough while it lasted; and when + Clothilde was (figuratively) dragged from my arms I cursed and swore and + out-Heroded Herod, played Termagant, and summoned the heavens to fall down + and crush me miserable beneath their weight. And then her brother + challenged me to fight a duel, whereupon, as the most worshipped of all + She's had not received a ha'porth of harm at my hands, I called him a + silly ass and threatened to break his head if he interfered any more in my + legitimate despair. I smile at it now; but it was real at two-and-twenty—as + real, I take it, as Dale's consuming passion for the lady of the circus. + </p> + <p> + There was also, I remembered, a certain —— But this had + nothing to do with Dale. Neither had the tragedy of my lost Clothilde. The + memories, however, brought a wistful touch of sympathy into my voice. + </p> + <p> + “You soberly think, my dear old Dale,” said I, “that I know nothing of + love and passion and the rest of the divine madness?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure you don't,” he cried, with an impatient gesture. “If you did, + you wouldn't—” + </p> + <p> + He came to an abrupt and confused halt. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't—what?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. I forgot what I was going to say. Let us talk of something + else.” + </p> + <p> + “It was on the tip of your impulsive tongue,” said I cheerfully, “to refer + to my attitude towards Miss Faversham.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm desperately sorry,” said he, reddening. “It was unpardonable. But how + did you guess?” + </p> + <p> + I laughed and quoted the Latin tag about the ingenuous boy of the + ingenuous visage and ingenuous modesty. + </p> + <p> + “Because I don't feverishly search the postbag for a letter from Miss + Faversham you conclude I'm a bloodless automaton?” + </p> + <p> + “Please don't say any more about it, Simon,” he pleaded in deep distress. + </p> + <p> + A sudden idea struck me. I reflected, walked to the window, and, having + made up my mind, sat down again. I had a weapon to hand which I had + overlooked, and with the discovery came a weak craving for the boy's + sympathy. I believe I care more for him than for any living creature. I + decided to give him some notion of my position. + </p> + <p> + Sooner or later he would have to learn it. + </p> + <p> + “I would rather like to tell you something,” said I, “about my engagement—in + confidence, of course. When Eleanor Faversham comes back I propose to ask + her to release me from it.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a long breath. “I'm glad. She's an awfully nice girl, but she's no + more in love with you than my mother is. But it'll be rather difficult, + won't it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so,” I replied, shaking my head. “It's a question of + health. My doctors absolutely forbid it.” + </p> + <p> + A look of affectionate alarm sprang into his eyes. He broke into sympathy. + My health? Why had I not told him before? In Heaven's name, what was the + matter with me? + </p> + <p> + “Something silly,” said I. “Nothing you need worry about on my account. + Only I must go <i>piano</i> for the rest of my days. Marriage isn't to be + thought of. There is something else I must tell you. I must resign my + seat.” + </p> + <p> + “Resign your seat? Give up Parliament? When?” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me aghast, as if the world were coming to an end. + </p> + <p> + “We had better concoct an epistle to Raggles this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “But you can't be serious?” + </p> + <p> + “I can sometimes, my dear Dale. This is one of the afflicting occasions.” + </p> + <p> + “You out of Parliament? You out of public life? It's inconceivable. It's + damnable. But you're just coming into your own—what Raggles said, + what I told you yesterday. But it can't be. You can hold on. I'll do all + the drudgery for you. I'll work night and day.” + </p> + <p> + And he tramped up and down the room, uttering the disconnected phrases + which an honest young soul unaccustomed to express itself emotionally + blurts out in moments of deep feeling. + </p> + <p> + “It's no use, Dale,” said I, “I've got my marching orders.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should they come just now?” + </p> + <p> + “When the sweets of office are dangling at my lips? It's pretty simple.” I + laughed. “It's one of the little ironies that please the high gods so + immensely. They have an elementary sense of humour—like that of the + funny fellow who pulls your chair from under you and shrieks with laughter + when you go wallop on to the floor. Well, I don't grudge them their + amusement. They must have a dull time settling mundane affairs, and a + little joke goes a long way with them, as it does in the House of Commons. + Fancy sitting on those green benches legislating for all eternity, with + never a recess and never even a dinner hour! Poor high gods! Let us pity + them.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him and smiled, perhaps a little wearily. One can always + command one's eyes, but one's lips sometimes get out of control. He could + not have noticed my lips, however, for he cried: + </p> + <p> + “By George, you're splendid! I wish I could take a knock-out blow like + that!” + </p> + <p> + “You'll have to one of these days. It's the only way of taking it. And + now,” said I, in a businesslike tone, “I've told you all this with a + purpose. At Wymington it will be a case of 'Le Roi est mort. Vive le Roi!' + The vacancy will have to be filled up at once. We'll have to find a + suitable candidate. Have you one in your mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a soul.” + </p> + <p> + “I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “You.” + </p> + <p> + “Me?” He nearly sprang into the air with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “They'd never adopt me.” + </p> + <p> + “I think they would,” I said. “There are men in the House as young as you. + You're well known at Wymington and at headquarters as my right-hand man. + You've done some speaking—you do it rather well; it's only your + private conversational style that's atrocious. You've got a name familiar + in public life up and down the country, thanks to your father and mother. + It's a fairly safe seat. I see no reason why they shouldn't adopt you. + Would you like it?” + </p> + <p> + “Like it?” he cried. “Why I'd give my ears for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said I, playing my winning card, “let us hear no more about Lola + Brandt.” + </p> + <p> + He gave me a swift glance, and walked up and down the room for a while in + silence. Presently he halted in front of me. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Simon, you're a beast, but”—he smiled frankly at the + quotation—“you're a just beast. You oughtn't to rub it in like that + about Lola until you have seen her yourself. It isn't fair.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak now in language distinctly approaching that of reason,” I + remarked. “What do you want me to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Come with me this afternoon and see her.” + </p> + <p> + My young friend had me nicely in the trap. I could not refuse. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said I. “But on the distinct understanding—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, on any old understanding you like!” he cried, and darted to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “To ring her up on the telephone and tell her you're coming.” + </p> + <p> + That's the worst of the young. They have such a disconcerting manner of + clinching one's undertakings. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + My first impression of Lola Brandt in the dimness of the room was that of + a lithe panther in petticoats rising lazily from the depths of an easy + chair. A sinuous action of the arm, as she extended her hand to welcome + me, was accompanied by a curiously flexible turn of the body. Her hand as + it enveloped, rather than grasped, mine seemed boneless but exceedingly + powerful. An indoor dress of brown and gold striped Indian silk clung to + her figure, which, largely built, had an appearance of great strength. + Dark bronze hair and dark eyes, that in the soft light of the room glowed + with deep gold reflections, completed the pantherine suggestion. She + seemed to be on the verge of thirty. A most dangerous woman, I decided—one + to be shut up in a cage with thick iron bars. + </p> + <p> + “It's charming of you to come. I've heard so much of you from Mr. + Kynnersley. Do sit down.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was lazy and languorous and caressing like the purr of a great + cat; and there was something exotic in her accent, something seductive, + something that ought to be prohibited by the police. She sank into her low + chair by the fire, indicating one for me square with the hearthrug. Dale, + so as to leave me a fair conversational field with the lady, established + himself on the sofa some distance off, and began to talk with a Chow dog, + with whom he was obviously on terms of familiarity. Madame Brandt make a + remark about the Chow dog's virtues, to which I politely replied. She put + him through several tricks. I admired his talent. She declared her + affections to be divided between Adolphus (that was the Chow dog's name) + and an ouistiti, who was confined to bed for the present owing to the evil + qualities of the November air. For the first time I blessed the English + climate. I hate little monkeys. I also felt a queer disappointment. A + woman like that ought to have caught an ourang-outang. + </p> + <p> + She guessed my thought in an uncanny manner, and smiled, showing strong, + white, even teeth—the most marvellous teeth I have ever beheld—so + even as to constitute almost a deformity. + </p> + <p> + “I'm fonder of bigger animals,” she said. “I was born among them. My + father was a lion tamer, so I know all the ways of beasts. I love bears—I + once trained one to drive a cart—but”—with a sigh—“you + can't keep bears in Cadogan Gardens.” + </p> + <p> + “You may get hold of a human one now and then,” said Dale. + </p> + <p> + “I've no doubt Madame Brandt could train him to dance to whatever tune she + played,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She turned her dark golden eyes lazily, slumberously on me. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say that, Mr. de Gex?” + </p> + <p> + This was disconcerting. Why had I said it? For no particular reason, save + to keep up a commonplace conversation in which I took no absorbing + interest. It was a direct challenge. Young Dale stopped playing with the + Chow dog and grinned. It behooved me to say something. I said it with a + bow and a wave of my hand: + </p> + <p> + “Because, though your father was a lion-tamer, your mother was a woman.” + </p> + <p> + She appeared to reflect for a moment; then addressing Dale: + </p> + <p> + “The answer doesn't amount to a ha'porth of cats'-meat, but you couldn't + have got out of it like that.” + </p> + <p> + I was again disconcerted, but I remarked that he would learn in time when + my mentorship was over and I handed him, a finished product, to society. + </p> + <p> + “How long will that be?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Are you anxious for his immediate perfecting?” + </p> + <p> + Her shoulders gave what in ordinary women would have been a shrug: with + her it was a slow ripple. I vow if her neck had been bare one could have + seen it undulate beneath the skin. + </p> + <p> + “What is perfection?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you ask?” laughed Dale. “Behold!” And he pointed to me. + </p> + <p> + “That's cheap,” said the lady. “I've heard Auguste say cleverer things.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's Auguste?” asked Dale. + </p> + <p> + “Auguste,” said I, “is the generic name of the clown in the French + Hippodrome.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the Circus!” cried Dale. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be glad if you'll teach him to call it the Hippodrome, Mr. de Gex,” + she remarked, with another of her slumberous glances. + </p> + <p> + “That will be one step nearer perfection,” said I. + </p> + <p> + The short November twilight had deepened into darkness; the fire, which + was blazing when we entered, had settled into a glow, and the room was lit + by one shaded lamp. To me the dimness was restful, but Dale, who, with the + crude instincts of youth, loves glare, began to fidget, and presently + asked whether he might turn on the electric light. Permission was given. + My hostess invited me to smoke and, to hand her a box of cigarettes which + lay on the mantelpiece, I rose, bent over her while she lit her cigarette + from my match, and resuming an upright position, became rooted to the + hearthrug. + </p> + <p> + With the flood of illumination, disclosing everything that hitherto had + been wrapped in shadow and mystery, came a shock. + </p> + <p> + It was a most extraordinary, perplexing room. The cheap and the costly, + the rare and the common, the exquisite and the tawdry jostled one another + on walls and floor. At one end of the Louis XVI sofa on which Dale had + been sitting lay a boating cushion covered with a Union Jack, at the other + a cushion covered with old Moorish embroidery. The chair I had vacated I + discovered to be of old Spanish oak and stamped Cordova leather bearing + traces of a coat-of-arms in gold. My hostess lounged in a low + characterless seat amid a mass of heterogeneous cushions. There were many + flowers in the room—some in Cloisonne vases, others in gimcrack + vessels such as are bought at country fairs. On the mantelpiece and on + tables were mingled precious ivories from Japan, trumpery chalets from the + Tyrol, choice bits of Sevres and Venetian glass, bottles with ladders and + little men inside them, vulgar china fowls sitting on eggs, and a thousand + restless little objects screeching in dumb agony at one another. + </p> + <p> + The more one looked the more confounded became confusion. Lengths of + beautifully embroidered Chinese silk formed curtains for the doors and + windows; but they were tied back with cords ending in horrible little + plush monkeys in lieu of tassels. A Second Empire gilt mirror hung over + the Louis XVI sofa, and was flanked on the one side by a villainous German + print of “The Huntsman's Return” and on the other by a dainty + water-colour. Myriads of photographs, some in frames, met the eye + everywhere—on the grand piano, on the occasional tables, on the + mantelpiece, stuck obliquely all round the Queen Anne mirror above it, on + the walls. Many of them represented animals—bears and lions and + pawing horses. Dale's photograph I noticed in a silver frame on the piano. + There was not a book in the place. But in the corner of the room by a + further window gleamed a large marble Venus of Milo, charmingly executed, + who stood regarding the welter with eyes calm and unconcerned. + </p> + <p> + I was aroused from the momentary shock caused by the revelation of this + eccentric apartment by an unknown nauseous flavour in my mouth. I realised + it was the cigarette to which I had helped myself from the beautifully + chased silver casket I had taken from the mantelpiece. I eyed the thing + and concluded it was made of the very cheapest tobacco, and was what the + street urchin calls a “fag.” I learned afterwards that I was right. She + purchased them at the rate of six for a penny, and smoked them in enormous + quantities. For politeness' sake I continued to puff at the unclean thing + until I nearly made myself sick. Then, simulating absentmindedness, I + threw it into the fire. + </p> + <p> + Why, in the sacred name of Nicotine, does a luxurious lady like Lola + Brandt smoke such unutterable garbage? + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, the tea which she offered us a few minutes later, and + begged us to drink without milk, was the most exquisite I have tasted + outside Russia. She informed us that she got it direct from Moscow. + </p> + <p> + “I can't stand your black Ceylon tea,” she remarked, with a grimace. + </p> + <p> + And yet she could smoke “fags.” I wondered what other contradictious + tastes she possessed. No doubt she could eat blood puddings with relish + and had a discriminating palate for claret. Truly, a perplexing lady. + </p> + <p> + “You must find leisure in London a great change after your adventurous + career,” said I, by way of polite conversation. + </p> + <p> + “I just love it. I'm as lazy as a cat,” she said, settling with her + pantherine grace among the cushions. “Do you know what has been my + ambition ever since I was a kid?” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever of woman's ambitions you had you must have attained,” said I, + with a bow. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” she said. “You mean that I can have crowds of men falling in love + with me. That's rubbish.” She was certainly frank. “I meant something + quite different. I wonder whether you can understand. The world used to + seem to me divided into two classes that never met—we performing + people and the public, the thousand white faces that looked at us and went + away and talked to other white faces and forgot all about performing + animals till they came next time. Now I've got what I wanted. See? I'm one + of the public.” + </p> + <p> + “And you love Philistia better than Bohemia?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + She knitted her brows and looked at me puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “If you want to talk to me,” she said, “you must talk straight. I've had + no more education than a tinker's dog.” + </p> + <p> + She made this peculiar announcement, not defiantly, not rudely, but + appealingly, graciously. It was not a rebuke for priggishness; it was the + unpresentable statement of a fact. I apologized for a lunatic habit of + speech and paraphrased my question. + </p> + <p> + “In a word,” cried Dale, coming in on my heels with an elucidation of my + periphrasis, “what de Gex is driving at is—Do you prefer + respectability to ramping round?” + </p> + <p> + She turned slowly to him. “My dear boy, when do you think I was not + respectable?” + </p> + <p> + He jumped from the sofa as if the Chow dog had bitten him. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens, I never meant you to take it that way!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed, stretched up a lazy arm to him, and looked at him somewhat + quizzically in the face as he kissed her finger-tips. Although I could + have boxed the silly fellow's ears, I vow he did it in a very pretty + fashion. The young man of the day, as a general rule, has no more notion + how to kiss a woman's hand than how to take snuff or dance a pavane. + Indeed, lots of them don't know how to kiss a girl at all. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” she said. “I was much more respectable sitting on the stage at + tea with my horse, Sultan, than supping with you at the Savoy. You don't + know the deadly respectability of most people in the profession, and the + worst of it is that while we're being utterly dull and dowdy, the public + think we're having a devil of a time. So we don't even get the credit of + our virtues. I prefer the Savoy—and this.” She turned to me. “It is + nice having decent people to tea. Do you know what I should love? I should + love to have an At Home day—and receive ladies, real ladies. And I + have such a sweet place, haven't I?” + </p> + <p> + “You have many beautiful things around you,” said I truthfully. + </p> + <p> + She sighed. “I should like more people to see them.” + </p> + <p> + “In fact,” said I, “you have social ambitions, Madame Brandt?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me for a moment out of the corner of her eye. + </p> + <p> + “Are you skinning me?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Where she had picked up this eccentric metaphor I know not. She had many + odd turns of language as yet not current among the fashionable classes. I + gravely assured her that I was not sarcastic. I commended her praiseworthy + aspirations. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said I innocently, “don't you miss the hard training, the physical + exercise, the delight of motion, the excitement, the——?”—my + vocabulary failing me, I sketched with a gesture the equestrienne's + classical encouragement to her steed. + </p> + <p> + She looked at me uncomprehendingly. + </p> + <p> + “The what?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “What are you playing at?” inquired Dale. + </p> + <p> + “I was referring to the ring,” said I. + </p> + <p> + They both burst out laughing, to my discomfiture. + </p> + <p> + “What do you take me for? A circus rider? Performing in a tent and living + in a caravan? You think I jump through a hoop in tights?” + </p> + <p> + “All I can say,” I murmured, by way of apology, “is that it's a mendacious + world. I'm deeply sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Why had I been misled in this shameful manner? + </p> + <p> + Madame Brandt with lazy good nature accepted my excuses. + </p> + <p> + “I'm what is professionally known as a <i>dompteuse</i>,” she explained. + “Of course, when I was a kid I was trained as an acrobat, for my father + was poor; but when he grew rich and the owner of animals, which he did + when I was fourteen, I joined him and worked with him all over the world + until I went on my own. Do you mean to say you never heard of me?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Brandt,” said I, “the last thing to be astonished at is human + ignorance. Do you know that 30 per cent of the French army at the present + day have never heard of the Franco-Prussian War?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Simon,” cried Dale, “the two things don't hang together. The + Franco-Prussian War is not advertised all over France like Beecham's + Pills, whereas six years ago you couldn't move two steps in London without + seeing posters of Lola Brandt and her horse Sultan.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the horse!” said I. “That's how the wicked circus story got about.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the last act I ever did,” said Madame Brandt. “I taught Sultan—oh, + he was a dear, beautiful thing—to count and add up and guess + articles taken from the audience. I was at the Hippodrome. Then at the + Nouveau Cirque at Paris; I was at St. Petersburg, Vienna, Berlin—all + over Europe with Sultan.” + </p> + <p> + “And where is Sultan now?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “He is dead. Somebody poisoned him,” she replied, looking into the fire. + After a pause she continued in a low voice, singularly like the growl of a + wrathful animal, “If ever I meet that man alive it will go hard with him.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the door opened and the servant announced: + </p> + <p> + “Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos!” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the shortest creature that ever bore so lengthy a name, a dwarf + not more than four feet high, wearing a frock coat and bright yellow + gloves, entered the room, and crossing it at a sort of trot fell on his + knees by the side of Madame Brandt's chair. + </p> + <p> + <i>“Ah! Carissima, je vous vois enfin, Ach liebes Herz! Que j'ai envie de + pleurer!”</i> + </p> + <p> + Madame Brandt smiled, took the creature's head between her hands and + kissed his forehead. She also caressed his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Anastasius, how good it is to see you. Where have you been this + long time? Why didn't you write and let me know you were in England? But, + see, Anastasius, I have visitors. Let me introduce you.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke in French fluently, but with a frank British accent, which + grated on a fastidious ear. The dwarf rose, made two solemn bows, and + declared himself enchanted. Although his head was too large for his body, + he was neither ill-made nor repulsive. He looked about thirty-five. A high + forehead, dark, mournful eyes, and a black moustache and imperial gave him + an odd resemblance to Napoleon the Third. + </p> + <p> + “I arrived from New York this morning, with my cats. Oh, a mad success. I + have one called Phoebus, because he drives a chariot drawn by six rats. + Phoebus Apollo was the god of the sun. I must show him to you, Madonna. + You would love him as I love you. And I also have an angora, my beautiful + Santa Bianca. And you, gentlemen”—he turned to Dale and myself and + addressed us in his peculiar jargon of French, German, and Italian—“you + must come and see my cats if I can get a London engagement. At present I + must rest. The artist needs repose sometimes. I will sun myself in the + smiles of our dear lady here, and my pupil and assistant, Quast, can look + after my cats. Meanwhile the brain of the artist,” he tapped his brow, + “needs to lie fallow so that he can invent fresh and daring combinations. + Do such things interest you, messieurs?” + </p> + <p> + “Vastly,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He pulled out of his breast pocket an enormous gilt-bound pocket-book, + bearing a gilt monogram of such size that it looked like a cartouche on an + architectural panel, and selected therefrom three cards which he gravely + distributed among us. They bore the legend: + </p> + <p> + PROFESSOR ANASTASIUS PAPADOPOULOS GOLD AND SILVER MEDALLIST THE CAT KING + LE ROI DES CHATS DER KATZEN KONIG + </p> + <p> + London Agents: MESSRS. CONTO & BLAG, + </p> + <p> + 172 Maiden Lane, W.C. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said he, “I am always to be found, should you ever require my + services. I have a masterpiece in my head. I come on to the scene like + Bacchus drawn by my two cats. How are the cats to draw my heavy weight? + I'll have a noiseless clockwork arrangement that will really propel the + car. You must come and see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Delighted, I'm sure,” said Dale, who stood looking down on the Liliputian + egotist with polite wonder. Lola Brandt glanced at him apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't mind him, Dale. He has only two ideas in his head, his cats + and myself. He's devoted to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I shall be jealous,” said Dale in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Foolish boy!” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + During the love scene, which was conducted in English, a language which + Mr. Papadopoulos evidently did not understand, the dwarf scowled at Dale + and twirled his moustache fiercely. In order to attract Madame Brandt's + attention he fetched a packet of papers from his pocket and laid them with + a flourish on the tea-table. + </p> + <p> + “Here are the documents,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “What documents?” + </p> + <p> + “A full inquiry into the circumstances attending the death of Madame + Brandt's horse Sultan.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you found out anything, Anastasius?” she asked, in the indulgent + tone in which one addresses an eager child. + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly,” said he. “But I have a conviction that by this means the + murderer will be brought to justice. To this I have devoted my life—in + your service.” + </p> + <p> + He put his hand on the spot of his tightly buttoned frock-coat that + covered his heart, and bowed profoundly. It was obvious that he resented + our presence and desired to wipe us out of our hostess's consideration. I + glanced ironically at Dale's disgusted face, and smiled at the imperfect + development of his sense of humour. Indeed, to the young, humour is only a + weapon of offence. It takes a philosopher to use it as defensive armour. + Dale burned to outdo Mr. Papadopoulos. I, having no such ambition, laid my + hand on his arm and went forward to take my leave. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Brandt,” said I, “old friends have doubtless much to talk over. I + thank you for the privilege you have afforded me of making your + acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + She rose and accompanied us to the landing outside the flat door. After + saying good-bye to Dale, who went down with his boyish tread, she detained + me for a second or two, holding my hand, and again her clasp enveloped it + like some clinging sea-plant. She looked at me very wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “The next time you come, Mr. de Gex, do come as a friend and not as an + enemy.” + </p> + <p> + I was startled. I thought I had conducted the interview with peculiar + suavity. + </p> + <p> + “An enemy, dear lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Can't I see it?” she said in her languorous, caressing voice. “And I + should love to have you for a friend. You could be such a good one. I have + so few.” + </p> + <p> + “I must argue this out with you another time,” said I diplomatically. + </p> + <p> + “That's a promise,” said Lola Brandt. + </p> + <p> + “What's a promise?” asked Dale, when I joined him in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “That I will do myself the pleasure of calling on Madame again.” + </p> + <p> + The porter whistled for a cab. A hansom drove up. As my destination was + the Albany, and as I knew Dale was going home to Eccleston Square, I held + out my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Dale. I'll see you to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “But aren't you going to tell me what you think of her?” he cried in great + dismay. + </p> + <p> + The pavement was muddy, the evening dark, and a gusty wind blew the + drizzle into our faces. It is only the preposterously young who expect a + man to rhapsodise over somebody else's inamorata at such a moment. I + turned up the fur collar of my coat. + </p> + <p> + “She is good-looking,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Any idiot can see that!” he burst out impatiently. “I want to know what + opinion you formed of her.” + </p> + <p> + I reflected. If I could have labelled her as the Scarlet Woman, the + Martyred Saint, the Jolly Bohemian, or the Bold Adventuress, my task would + have been easy. But I had an uncomfortable feeling that Lola Brandt was + not to be classified in so simple a fashion. I took refuge in a negative. + </p> + <p> + “She would hardly be a success,” said I, “in serious political circles.” + </p> + <p> + With that I made my escape. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + I wish I had not called on Lola Brandt. She disturbs me to the point of + nightmare. In a fit of dream paralysis last night I fancied myself stalked + by a panther, which in the act of springing turned into Lola Brandt. What + she would have done I know not, for I awoke; but I have a haunting + sensation that she was about to devour me. Now, a woman who would devour a + sleeping Member of Parliament is not a fit consort for a youth about to + enter on a political career. + </p> + <p> + The woman worries me. I find myself speculating on her character while I + ought to be minding my affairs; and this I do on her own account, without + any reference to my undertaking to rescue Dale from her clutches. Her + obvious attributes are lazy good nature and swift intuition, which are as + contrary as her tastes in tobacco and tea; but beyond the obvious lurks a + mysterious animal power which repels and attracts. Were not her + expressions rather melancholy than sensuous, rather benevolent than cruel, + one might take her as a model for Queen Berenice or the estimable lady + monarchs who yielded themselves adorably to a gentleman's kisses in the + evening and saw to it that his head was nicely chopped off in the morning. + I can quite understand Dale's infatuation. She may be as worthless as you + please, but she is by no means the vulgar syren I was led to expect. I + wish she were. My task would be easier. Why hasn't he fallen in love with + one of the chorus whom his congeners take out to supper? He is an + aggravating fellow. + </p> + <p> + I have declined to discuss her merits or demerits with him. I could + scarcely do that with dignity, said I; a remark which seemed to impress + him with a sense of my honesty. I asked what were his intentions regarding + her. I discovered that they were still indefinite. In his exalted moments + he talked of marriage. + </p> + <p> + “But what has become of her husband?” I inquired, drawing a bow at a + venture. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he's dead,” said Dale. + </p> + <p> + “But suppose he isn't?” + </p> + <p> + He informed me in his young magnificence that Lola and himself would be + above foolish moral conventions. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Don't pretend to be a Puritan,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I don't pretend to like the idea, anyhow,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders. It was not the time for a lecture on morality. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that the lady returns your passion?” I asked, watching + him narrowly. + </p> + <p> + He grew red. “Is that a fair question?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I. “You invited me to call on her and judge the affair for + myself. I'm doing it. How far have things gone up to now?” + </p> + <p> + He flashed round on me. Did I mean to insinuate that there was anything + wrong? There wasn't. How could I dream of such a thing? He was vastly + indignant. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear boy,” said I, “you've just this minute been scoffing at + foolish moral conventions. If you want to know my opinion,” I continued, + after a pause, “it is this—she doesn't care a scrap for you.” + </p> + <p> + Of course I was talking nonsense. + </p> + <p> + I did not condescend to argue. Neither did I dwell upon the fact that her + affection had not reached the point of informing him whether she had a + husband, and if so, whether he was alive or dead. This gives me an idea. + Suppose I can prove to him beyond a shadow of doubt that the lady, + although flattered by the devotion of a handsome young fellow of birth and + breeding, does not, as I remarked, care a scrap for him. Suppose I exhibit + her to him in the arms, figuratively speaking, of her husband (providing + one is lurking in some back-alley of the world), Mr. Anastasius + Papadopoulos, a curate, or a champion wrestler. He would do desperate + things for a month or two; but then he would wake up sane one fine morning + and seek out Maisie Ellerton in a salutary state of penitence. I wish I + knew a curate who combined a passion for bears and a yearning for ladylike + tea-parties. I would take him forthwith to Cadogan Gardens. Lola Brandt + and himself would have tastes in common and would fall in love with each + other on the spot. + </p> + <p> + Of course there is the other time-honoured plan which I have not yet tried—to + arm myself with diplomacy, call on Madame Brandt, and, working on her + feelings, persuade her in the name of the boy's mother and sweetheart to + make a noble sacrifice in the good, old-fashioned way. But this seems such + an unhumourous proceeding. If I am to achieve eumoiriety I may as well do + it with some distinction. + </p> + <p> + “Who doth Time gallop withal?” asks Orlando. + </p> + <p> + “With a thief to the gallows,” says Rosalind. It is true. The days have an + uncanny way of racing by. I see my little allotted span of life shrinking + visibly, like the <i>peau de chagrin</i>. I must bestir myself, or my last + day will come before I have accomplished anything. + </p> + <p> + When I jotted down the above not very original memorandum I had passed a + perfectly uneumoirous week among my friends and social acquaintances. I + had stood godfather to my sister Agatha's fifth child, taking upon myself + obligations which I shall never be able to perform; I had dined amusingly + at my sister Jane's; I had shot pheasants at Farfax Glenn's place in + Hampshire; and I had paid a long-promised charming country-house visit to + old Lady Blackadder. + </p> + <p> + When I came back to town, however, I consulted my calendar with some + anxiety, and set out to clear my path. + </p> + <p> + I have now practically withdrawn from political life. Letters have passed; + complimentary and sympathetic gentlemen have interviewed me and tried to + weaken my decision. The great Raggles has even called, and dangled the + seals of office before my eyes. I said they were very pretty. He thought + he had tempted me. + </p> + <p> + “Hang on as long as you can, for the sake of the Party.” + </p> + <p> + I spoke playfully of the Party (a man in my position, with one eye on Time + and the other on Eternity, develops an acute sense of values) and Raggles + held up horrified hands. To Raggles the Party is the Alpha and Omega of + things human and divine. It is the guiding principle of the Cosmos. I + could have spoken disrespectfully of the British Empire, of which he has a + confused notion; I could have dismissed the Trinity, on which his ideas + are vaguer, with an airy jest; in the expression of my views concerning + the Creator, whom he believes to be under the Party's protection, I could + have out-Pained Tom Paine, out-Taxiled Leo Taxil, and he would not have + winced. But to blaspheme against the Party was the sin for which there was + no redemption. + </p> + <p> + “I always thought you a serious politician!” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” I cried. “In my public utterances have I been as dull as that? + Ill-health or no, it is time for me to quit the stage.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed politely, because he conjectured I was speaking humourously—he + is astute in some things—and begged me to explain. + </p> + <p> + I replied that I did not regard mustard poultices as panaceas, the <i>vox + populi</i> as the <i>Vox Dei</i>, or the policy of the other side as the + machinations of the Devil; that politics was all a game of guess-work and + muddle and compromise at the best; that, at the worst, as during a General + Election, it was as ignoble a pastime as the wit of man had devised. To + take it seriously would be the course of a fanatic, a man devoid of the + sense of proportion. Were such a man, I asked, fitted to govern the + country? + </p> + <p> + He did not stop to argue, but went away leaving me the conviction that he + thanked his stars on the Government's providential escape from so maniacal + a minister. I hope I did not treat him with any discourtesy; but, oh! it + was good to speak the truth after all the dismal lies I have been forced + to tell at the bidding of Raggle's Party. Now that I am no longer bound by + the rules of the game, it is good to feel a free, honest man. + </p> + <p> + Never again shall I stretch forth my arms and thunder invectives against + well-meaning people with whom in my heart I secretly sympathise. Never + again shall I plead passionately for principles which a horrible instinct + tells me are fundamentally futile. Never again shall I attempt to make + mountains out of mole-hills or bricks without straw or sunbeams out of + cucumbers. + </p> + <p> + I shall conduct no more inquiries into pauper lunacy, thank Heaven! And as + for the public engagements which Dale Kynnersley made for me during my + Thebaid existence on Murglebed-on-Sea, the deuce can take them all—I + am free. + </p> + <p> + I only await the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds, for which quaint + post under the Crown I applied, to cease to be a Member of Parliament. And + yet, in spite of all my fine and superior talk, I am glad I am giving up + in the recess. I should not like to be out of my seat were the House in + session. + </p> + <p> + I should hate to think of all the fascinating excitement over nothing + going on in the lobbies without me, while I am still hale and hearty. When + Parliament meets in February I shall either be comfortably dead or so + uncomfortably alive that I shall not care. + </p> + <p> + <i>Ce que c'est que de nous!</i> I wonder how far Simon de Gex and I are + deceiving each other? + </p> + <p> + There is no deception about my old friend Latimer, who called on me a day + or two ago. He is on the Stock Exchange, and, muddle-headed creature that + he is, has been “bearing” the wrong things. They have gone up sky-high. + Settling-day is drawing near, and how to pay for the shares he is bound to + deliver he has not the faintest notion. + </p> + <p> + He stamped up and down the room, called down curses on the prying fools + who came across the unexpected streak of copper in the failing mine, drew + heart-rending pictures of his wife and family singing hymns in the street, + and asked me for a drink of prussic acid. I rang the bell and ordered + Rogers to give him a brandy and soda. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said I, “talk sense. How much can you raise?” + </p> + <p> + He went into figures and showed me that, although he stretched his credit + to the utmost, there were still ten thousand pounds to be provided. + </p> + <p> + “It's utter smash and ruin,” he groaned. “And all my accursed folly. I + thought I was going to make a fortune. But I'm done for now.” Latimer is + usually a pink, prosperous-looking man. Now he was white and flabby, a + piteous spectacle. “You are executor under my will,” he continued. “Heaven + knows I've nothing to leave. But you'll see things straight for me, if + anything happens? You will look after Lucy and the kids, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + I was on the point of undertaking to do so, in the event of the + continuance of his craving for prussic acid, when I reflected upon my own + approaching bow and farewell to the world where Lucy and the kids would + still be wandering. I am always being brought up against this final + fireproof curtain. Suddenly a thought came which caused me to exult + exceedingly. + </p> + <p> + “Ten thousand pounds, my dear Latimer,” said I, “would save you from being + hammered on the Stock Exchange and from seeking a suicide's grave. It + would also enable you to maintain Lucy and the kids in your luxurious + house at Hampstead, and to take them as usual to Dieppe next summer. Am I + not right?” + </p> + <p> + He begged me not to make a jest of his miseries. It was like asking a + starving beggar whether a dinner at the Carlton wouldn't set him up again. + </p> + <p> + “Would ten thousand set you up?” I persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But I might as well try to raise ten million.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” I cried, slapping him on the shoulder. “I myself will lend you + the money.” + </p> + <p> + He leaped to his feet and stared at me wildly in the face. He could not + have been more electrified if he had seen me suddenly adorned with wings + and shining raiment. I experienced a thrill of eumoiriety more exquisite + than I had dreamed of imagining. + </p> + <p> + “You?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand. I can give you no security whatsoever.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want security and I don't want interest,” I exclaimed, feeling + more magnanimous than I had a right to be, seeing that the interest would + be of no use to me on the other side of the Styx. “Pay me back when and + how you like. Come round with me to my bankers and I'll settle the matter + at once.” + </p> + <p> + He put out his hands; I thought he was about to fall at my feet; he + laughed in a silly way and, groping after brandy and soda, poured half the + contents of the brandy decanter on to the tray. I took him in a cab, a + stupefied man, to the bank, and when he left me at the door with my draft + in his pocket, there were tears in his eyes. He wrung my hand and murmured + something incoherent about Lucy. + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven's sake, don't tell her anything about it,” I entreated. “I + love Lucy dearly, as you know; but I don't want to have her weeping on my + door-mat.” + </p> + <p> + I walked back to my rooms with a springing step. So happy was I that I + should have liked to dance down Piccadilly. If the Faculty had not made + their pronouncement, I could have no more turned poor Latimer's earth from + hell to heaven than I could have changed St. Paul's Cathedral into a + bumblebee. The mere possibility of lending him the money would not have + occurred to me. + </p> + <p> + A man of modest fortune does not go about playing Monte Cristo. He gives + away a few guineas in charity; but he keeps the bulk of his fortune to + himself. The death sentence, I vow, has compensations. It enables a man to + play Monte Cristo or any other avatar of Providence with impunity, and + to-day I have discovered it to be the most fascinating game in the world. + </p> + <p> + When Latimer recovers his equilibrium and regards the transaction in the + dry light of reason, he will diagnose a sure symptom of megalomania, and + will pity me in his heart for a poor devil. + </p> + <p> + I have seen Eleanor Faversham, and she has released me from my engagement + with such grace, dignity, and sweet womanliness that I wonder how I could + have railed at her thousand virtues. + </p> + <p> + “It's honourable of you to give me this opportunity of breaking it off, + Simon,” she said, “but I care enough for you to be willing to take my + chance of illness.” + </p> + <p> + “You do care for me?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + She raised astonished eyes. “If I didn't, do you suppose I should have + engaged myself to you? If I married you I should swear to cherish you in + sickness and in health. Why won't you let me?” + </p> + <p> + I was in a difficulty. To say that I was in ill-health and about to resign + my seat in Parliament and a slave to doctor's orders was one thing; it was + another to tell her brutally that I had received my death warrant. She + would have taken it much more to heart than I do. + </p> + <p> + The announcement would have been a shock. It would have kept the poor girl + awake of nights. She would have been for ever seeing the hand of Death at + my throat. Every time we met she would have noted on my face, in my gait, + infallible signs of my approaching end. I had not the right to inflict + such intolerable pain on one so near and dear to me. + </p> + <p> + Besides, I am vain enough to want to walk forth somewhat gallantly into + eternity; and while I yet live I particularly desire that folks should not + regard me as half-dead. I defy you to treat a man who is only going to + live twenty weeks in the same pleasant fashion as you would a man who has + the run of life before him. + </p> + <p> + There is always an instinctive shrinking from decay. I should think that + corpses must feel their position acutely. + </p> + <p> + It was entirely for Eleanor's sake that I refrained from taking her into + my confidence. To her question I replied that I had not the right to tie + her for life to a helpless valetudinarian. “Besides,” said I, “as my + health grows worse my jokes will deteriorate, until I am reduced to + grinning through a horse-collar at the doctor. And you couldn't stand + that, could you?” + </p> + <p> + She upbraided me gently for treating everything as a jest. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't that you want to get rid of me, Simon?” she asked tearfully, but + with an attempt at a smile. + </p> + <p> + I took both hands and looked into her eyes—they are brave, truthful + eyes—and through my heart shot a great pain. Till that moment I had + not realised what I was giving up. The pleasant paths of the world—I + could leave them behind with a shrug. Political ambition, power, I could + justly estimate their value and could let them pass into other hands + without regret. But here was the true, staunch woman, great of heart and + wise, a helper and a comrade, and, if I chose to throw off the jester and + become the lover in real earnest and sweep my hand across the hidden + chords, all that a woman can become towards the man she loves. I realised + this. + </p> + <p> + I realised that if she did not love me passionately now it was only + because I, in my foolishness, had willed it otherwise. For the first time + I longed to have her as my own; for the first time I rebelled. I looked at + her hungeringly until her cheeks grew red and her eyelids fluttered. I had + a wild impulse to throw my arms around her, and kiss her as I had never + kissed her before and bid her forget all that I had said that day. Her + faltering eyes told me that they read my longing. I was about to yield + when the little devil of a pain inside made itself sharply felt and my + madness went from me. I fetched a thing half-way between a sigh and a + groan, and dropped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Need I answer your question?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + She turned her head aside and whispered “No.” + </p> + <p> + Presently she said, “I am glad I came back from Sicily. I shouldn't have + liked you to write this to me. I shouldn't have understood.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you now?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so.” She looked at me frankly. “Until just now I was never quite + certain whether you really cared for me.” + </p> + <p> + “I never cared for you so much as I do now, when I have to lose you.” + </p> + <p> + “And you must lose me?” + </p> + <p> + “A man in my condition would be a scoundrel if he married a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is very, very serious—your illness?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I, “very serious. I must give you your freedom whether you + want it or not.” + </p> + <p> + She passed one hand over the other on her knee, looking at the engagement + ring. Then she took it off and presented it to me, lying in the palm of + her right hand. + </p> + <p> + “Do what you like with it,” she said very softly. + </p> + <p> + I took the ring and slipped it on one of the right-hand fingers. + </p> + <p> + “It would comfort me to think that you are wearing it,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Then her mother came into the room and Eleanor went out. I am thankful to + say that Mrs. Faversham who is a woman only guided by sentiment when it + leads to a worldly advantage, applauded the step I had taken. As a + sprightly Member of Parliament, with an assured political and social + position, I had been a most desirable son-in-law. As an obscure invalid, + coughing and spitting from a bath-chair at Bournemouth (she took it for + granted that I was in the last stage of consumption), I did not take the + lady's fancy. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Simon,” replied my lost mother-in-law, “you have behaved + irreproachably. Eleanor will feel it for some time no doubt; but she is + young and will soon get over it. I'll send her to the Drascombe-Prynnes in + Paris. And as for yourself, your terrible misfortune will be as much as + you can bear. You mustn't increase it by any worries on her behalf. In + that way I'll do my utmost to help you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are kindness itself, Mrs. Faversham,” said I. + </p> + <p> + I bowed over the delighted lady's hand and went away, deeply moved by her + charity and maternal devotion. + </p> + <p> + But perhaps in her hardness lies truth. I have never touched Eleanor's + heart. No romance had preceded or accompanied our engagement. The deepest, + truest incident in it has been our parting. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + Dale's occupation, like Othello's, being gone, as far as I am concerned, + Lady Kynnersley has despatched him to Berlin, on her own business, + connected, I think, with the International Aid Society. He is to stay + there for a fortnight. + </p> + <p> + How he proposes to bear the separation from the object of his flame I have + not inquired; but if forcible objurgations in the vulgar tongue have any + inner significance, I gather that Lady Kynnersley has not employed an + enthusiastic agent. + </p> + <p> + Being thus free to pursue my eumoirous schemes without his intervention, + for you cannot talk to a lady for her soul's good when her adorer is + gaping at you, I have taken the opportunity to see something of Lola + Brandt. + </p> + <p> + I find I have seen a good deal of her; and it seems not improbable that I + shall see considerably more. Deuce take the woman! + </p> + <p> + On the first afternoon of Dale's absence I paid her my promised visit. It + was a dull day, and the room, lit chiefly by the firelight, happily did + not reveal its nerve-racking tastelessness. Lola Brandt, supple-limbed and + lazy-voiced, talked to me from the cushioned depths of her chair. + </p> + <p> + We lightly touched on Dale's trip to Berlin. She would miss him terribly. + It was so kind of me to come and cheer her lonely hour. Politeness forbade + my saying that I had come to do nothing of the sort. To my vague + expression of courtesy she responded by asking me with a laugh how I liked + Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos. + </p> + <p> + I replied that I considered it urbane on his part to invite me to see his + cats perform. + </p> + <p> + “If you were to hurt one of his cats he'd murder you,” she informed me. + “He always carries a long, sharp knife concealed somewhere about him on + purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “What a fierce little gentleman,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “He looks on me as one of his cats, too,” she said with a low laugh, “and + considers himself my protector. Once in Buda-Pesth he and I were driving + about. I was doing some shopping. As I was getting into the cab a man + insulted me, on account, I suppose, of my German name. Anastasius sprang + at him like a wild beast, and I had to drag him off bodily and lift him + back into the cab. I'm pretty strong, you know. It must have been a funny + sight.” She turned to me quickly. “Do you think it wrong of me to laugh?” + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn't you laugh at the absurd?” + </p> + <p> + “Because in devotion like that there seems to be something solemn and + frightening. If I told him to kill his cats, he would do it. If I ordered + him to commit Hari-Kari on the hearthrug, he would whip out his knife and + obey me. When you have a human soul at your mercy like that, it's a kind + of sacrilege to laugh at it. It makes you feel—oh, I can't express + myself. Look, it doesn't make tears come into your eyes exactly, it makes + them come into your heart.” + </p> + <p> + We continued the subject, divagating as we went, and had a nice little + sentimental conversation. There are depths of human feeling I should never + have suspected in this lazy panther of a woman, and although she openly + avows having no more education than a tinker's dog, she can talk with + considerable force and vividness of expression. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, when one comes to think of it, a tinker's dog has a fine education + if he be naturally a shrewd animal and takes advantage of his + opportunities; and a fine education, too, of its kind was that of the + vagabond Lola, who on her way from Dublin to Yokohama had more profitably + employed her time than Lady Kynnersley supposed. She had seen much of the + civilised places of the earth in her wanderings from engagement to + engagement, and had been an acute observer of men and things. + </p> + <p> + We exchanged travel pictures and reminiscences. I found myself floating + with her through moonlit Venice, while she chanted with startling + exactness the cry of the gondoliers. To my confusion be it spoken, I + forgot all about Dale Kynnersley and my mission. The lazy voice and rich + personality fascinated me. When I rose to go I found I had spent a couple + of hours in her company. She took me round the room and showed me some of + her treasures. + </p> + <p> + “This is very old. I think it is fifteenth century,” she said, picking up + an Italian ivory. + </p> + <p> + It was. I expressed my admiration. Then maliciously I pointed to a + horrible little Tyrolean chalet and said: + </p> + <p> + “That, too, is very pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't. And you know it.” + </p> + <p> + She is a most disconcerting creature. I accepted the rebuke meekly. What + else could I do? + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, do you have it here?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a present from Anastasius,” she said. “Every time he comes to see me + he brings what he calls an <i>'offrande''</i>. All these things”—she + indicated, with a comprehensive sweep of the arm, the Union Jack cushion, + the little men mounting ladders inside bottles, the hen sitting on her + nest, and the other trumpery gimcracks—“all these things are + presents from Anastasius. It would hurt him not to see them here when he + calls.” + </p> + <p> + “You might have a separate cabinet,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “A chamber of horrors?” she laughed. “No. It gives him more pleasure to + see them as they are—and a poor little freak doesn't get much out of + life.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed, and picking up “A Present from Margate” kind of mug, fingered + it very tenderly. + </p> + <p> + I went away feeling angry. Was the woman bewitching me? And I felt angrier + still when I met Lady Kynnersley at dinner that evening. Luckily I had + only a few words with her. Had I done anything yet with regard to Dale and + the unmentionable woman? If I had told her that I had spent a most + agreeable afternoon with the enchantress, she would not have enjoyed her + evening. Like General Trochu of the Siege of Paris fame, I said in my most + mysterious manner, “I have my plan,” and sent her into dinner comforted. + </p> + <p> + But I had no plan. My next interview with Madame Brandt brought me no + further. We have established telephonic communications. Through the medium + of this diabolical engine of loquacity and indiscretion, I was prevailed + on to accompany her to a rehearsal of Anastasius's cats. + </p> + <p> + Rogers, with a face as imperturbable as if he was announcing the visit of + an archbishop, informed me at the appointed hour that Madame Brandt's + brougham was at the door. I went down and found the brougham open, as the + day was fine, and Lola Brandt, smiling under a gigantic hat with an + amazing black feather, and looking as handsome as you please. + </p> + <p> + We were blocked for a few minutes at the mouth of the courtyard, and I had + the pleasure of all Piccadilly that passed staring at us in admiration. + Lola Brandt liked it; but I didn't, especially when I recognised one of + the starers as the eldest Drascombe-Prynne boy whose people in Paris are + receiving Eleanor Faversham under their protection. A nice reputation I + shall be acquiring. My companion was in gay mood. Now, as it is no part of + dealing unto oneself a happy life and portion to damp a fellow creature's + spirits, I responded with commendable gaiety. + </p> + <p> + I own that the drive to Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos's cattery in + Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, was distinctly enjoyable. I forgot all about + the little pain inside and the Fury with the abhorred shears, and talked a + vast amount of nonsense which the lady was pleased to regard as wit, for + she laughed wholeheartedly, showing her strong white, even teeth. But why + was I going? + </p> + <p> + Was it because she had requested me through the telephone to give + unimagined happiness to a poor little freak who would be as proud as Punch + to exhibit his cats to an English Member of Parliament? Was it in order to + further my designs—Machiavellian towards the lady, but eumoirous + towards Dale? Or was it simply for my own good pleasure? + </p> + <p> + Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos, resplendently raimented, with the + shiniest of silk hats and a flower in the buttonhole of his frock-coat, + received us at the door of a small house, the first-floor windows of which + announced the tenancy of a maker of gymnastic appliances; and having + kissed Madame Brandt's hand with awful solemnity and bowed deeply to me, + he preceded us down the passage, out into the yard, and into a ramshackle + studio at the end, where his cats had their being. + </p> + <p> + There were fourteen of them, curled up in large cages standing against the + walls. The place was lit by a skylight and warmed by a stove. The floor, + like a stage, was fitted up with miniature acrobatic paraphernalia and + properties. There were little five-barred gates, and trapezes, and + tight-ropes, and spring-boards, and a trestle-table, all the metal work + gleaming like silver. A heavy, uncouth German lad, whom the professor + introduced as his pupil and assistant, Quast, was in attendance. Mr. + Papadopoulos polyglotically acknowledged the honour I had conferred upon + him. He is very like the late Emperor of the French; but his forehead is + bulgier. + </p> + <p> + With a theatrical gesture and the remark that I should see, he opened some + cages and released half a dozen cats—a Persian, a white Angora, and + four commonplace tabbies, who all sprang on to the table with military + precision. Madame Brand began to caress them. I, wishing to show interest + in the troupe, prepared to do the same; but the dwarf scurried up with a + screech from the other end of the room. + </p> + <p> + <i>“Ne touchez pas—ne touchez pas!”</i> + </p> + <p> + I refrained, somewhat wonderingly, from touching. Madame Brandt explained. + </p> + <p> + “He thinks you would spoil the magnetic influence. It is a superstition of + his.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are touching.” + </p> + <p> + “He believes I have his magnetism—whatever that may be,” she said, + with a smile. “Would you like to see an experiment? Anastasius!” + </p> + <p> + “Carissima.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that the untamed Persian you were telling me of?” she asked, pointing + to a cage from which a ferocious gigantic animal more like a woolly tiger + than a tom-cat looked out with expressionless yellow eyes. “Will you let + Mr. de Gex try to make friends with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Your will is law, meine Konigin,” replied Professor Papadopoulos, bowing + low. “But Hephaestus is as fierce as the flames of hell.” + </p> + <p> + “See what he'll do,” laughed Lola Brandt. + </p> + <p> + I approached the cage with an ingratiating, “Puss, puss!” and a hideous + growl welcomed me. I ventured my hand towards the bars. The beast bristled + in demoniac wrath, spat with malignant venom, and shot out its claws. If I + had touched it my hand would have been torn to shreds. I have never seen a + more malevolent, fierce, spiteful, ill-conditioned brute in my life. My + feelings being somewhat hurt, and my nerves a bit shaken, I retreated + hastily. + </p> + <p> + “Now look,” said Lola Brandt. + </p> + <p> + With absolute fearlessness she went up to the cage, opened it, took the + unresisting thing out by the scruff of its neck, held it up like a + door-mat, and put it on her shoulder, where it forthwith began to purr + like any harmless necessary cat and rub its head against her cheek. She + put it on the floor; it arched its back and circling sideways rubbed + itself against her skirts. + </p> + <p> + She sat down, and taking the brute by its forepaws made it stand on its + hind legs. She pulled it on to her lap and it curled round lazily. Then + she hoisted it on to her shoulder again, and, rising, crossed the room and + bowed to the level of the cage, when the beast leaped in purring + thunderously in high good humour. Mr. Papadopoulos sang out in breathless + delight: + </p> + <p> + “If I am the King of Cats, you, Carissima, are the Queen. Nay, more, you + are the Goddess!” + </p> + <p> + Lola Brandt laughed. I did not. It was uncanny. It seemed as if some + mysterious freemasonic affinity existed between her and the evil beast. + During her drive hither she had entered my own atmosphere. She had been + the handsome, unconventional woman of the world. Now she seemed as remote + from me as the witches in “Macbeth.” + </p> + <p> + If I had seen her dashing Paris hat rise up into a point and her umbrella + turn into a broomstick, and herself into one of the buxom carlines of “Tam + O'Shanter,” I should not have been surprised. The feats of the mild + pussies which the dwarf began forthwith to exhibit provoked in me but a + polite counterfeit of enthusiasm. Lola Brandt had discounted my interest. + Even his performance with the ferocious Persian lacked the diabolical + certainty of Lola's handling. He locked all the other cats up and enticed + it out of the cage with a piece of fish. He guided it with a small whip, + as it jumped over gates and through blazing hoops, and he stood tense and + concentrated, like a lion-tamer. + </p> + <p> + The act over, the cat turned and snarled and only jumped into its cage + after a smart flick of the whip. The dwarf did not touch it once with his + hands. I applauded, however, and complimented him. He laid his hand on his + heart and bent forward in humility. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, monsieur, I am but a neophyte where Madame is an expert. I know the + superficial nature of cats. Now and then without vainglory I can say I + know their hearts; but Madame penetrates to and holds commune with their + souls. And a cat's soul, monsieur, is a wonderful thing. Once it was + divine—in ancient Egypt. Doubtless monsieur has heard of Pasht? Holy + men spent their lives in approaching the cat-soul. Madame was born to the + privilege. Pasht watches over her.” + </p> + <p> + “Pasht,” I said politely in French, in reply to this clotted nonsense, + “was a great divinity. And for yourself, who knows but what you may have + been in a previous incarnation the keeper of the Sacred Cats in some + Egyptian temple.” + </p> + <p> + “I was,” he said, with staggering earnestness. “At Memphis.” + </p> + <p> + “One of these days,” I returned, with equal solemnity, “I hope for the + privilege of hearing some of your reminiscences. They would no doubt be + interesting.” + </p> + <p> + On the way back Lola thanked me for pretending to take the little man + seriously, and not laughing at him. + </p> + <p> + “If I hadn't,” said I, “he would have stuck his knife into me.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “You did it naturally. I was watching you. It is + because you are a generous-hearted gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + Said I: “If you talk like that I'll get out and walk.” + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, what right had she to characterise the moral condition of my + heart? I asked her. She laughed her low, lazy laugh, but made no reply. + Presently she said: + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you like my making friends with the cat?” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know I didn't like it?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I felt it.” + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't feel things like that,” I remarked. “It isn't good for you.” + </p> + <p> + She insisted on my telling her. I explained as well as I could. She + touched the sleeve of my coat with her gloved hand. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad, because it shows you take an interest in me. And I wanted to + let you see that I could do something besides loll about in a drawing-room + and smoke cigarettes. It's all I can do. But it's something.” She said it + with the humility of the Jongleur de Notre Dame in Anatole Frances's + story. + </p> + <p> + In Eaton Square, where I had a luncheon engagement, she dropped me, and + drove off smiling, evidently well pleased with herself. My hostess was + standing by the window when I was shown into the drawing-room. I noted the + faintest possible little malicious twinkle in her eye. + </p> + <p> + During the afternoon I had a telephonic message from my doctor, who asked + me why I had neglected him for a fortnight and urged me to go to Harley + Street at once. To humour him I went the next morning. Hunnington is a + bluff, hearty fellow who feeds himself into pink floridity so as to give + confidence to his patients. In answer to his renewed inquiry as to my + neglect, I remarked that a man condemned to be hanged doesn't seek + interviews with the judge in order to learn how the rope is getting on. I + conveyed to him politely, although he is an old friend, that I desired to + forget his well-fed existence. In his chatty way he requested me not to be + an ass, and proceeded to put to me the usual silly questions. + </p> + <p> + Remembering the result of my last visit, I made him happy by answering + them gloomily; whereupon he seized his opportunity and ordered me out of + England for the winter. I must go to a warm climate—Egypt, South + Africa, Madeira—I could take my choice. I flatly refused to obey. I + had my duties in London. He was so unsympathetic as to damn my duties. My + duty was to live as long as possible, and my wintering in London would + probably curtail my short life by two months. Then I turned on him and + explained the charitable disingenuousness of my replies to his questions. + He refused to believe me, and we parted with mutual recriminations. I sent + him next day, however, a brace of pheasants, a present from Farfax Glenn. + After all, he is one of God's creatures. + </p> + <p> + The next time I called on Lola Brandt I went with the fixed determination + to make some progress in my mission. I vowed that I would not be seduced + by trumpery conversation about Yokohama or allow my mind to be distracted + by absurd adventures among cats. I would clothe myself in the armour of + eumoiriety, and, with the sword of duty in my hand, would go forth to + battle with the enchantress. All said and done, what was she but a + bold-faced, strapping woman without an idea in her head save the + enslavement of an impressionable boy several years her junior? It was + preposterous that I, Simon de Gex, who had beguiled and fooled an + electorate of thirty thousand hard-headed men into choosing me for their + representative in Parliament, should not be a match for Lola Brandt. As + for her complicated feminine personality, her intuitiveness, her + magnetism, her fascination, all the qualities in fact which my poetical + fancy had assigned to her, they had no existence in reality. She was the + most commonplace person I had ever encountered, and I had been but a + sentimental lunatic. + </p> + <p> + In this truly admirable frame of mind I entered her drawing-room. She + threw down the penny novel she was reading, and with a little cry of joy + sprang forward to greet me. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so glad you've come. I was getting the blind hump!” + </p> + <p> + Did I not say she was commonplace? I hate this synonym for boredom. It may + be elegant in the mouth of a duchess and pathetic in that of an + oyster-wench, but it falls vulgarly from intermediate lips. + </p> + <p> + “What has given it to you?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “My poor little ouistiti is dead. It is this abominable climate.” + </p> + <p> + I murmured condolences. I could not exhibit unreasonable grief at the + demise of a sick monkey which I had never seen. + </p> + <p> + “I'm also out of books,” she said, after having paid her tribute to the + memory of the departed. “I have been forced to ask the servants to lend me + something to read. Have you ever tried this sort of thing? You ought to. + It tells you what goes on in high society.” + </p> + <p> + I was sure it didn't. Not a duchess in its pages talked about having a + blind hump. I said gravely: + </p> + <p> + “I will ask you to lend it to me. Since Dale has been away I've had no one + to make out my library list.” + </p> + <p> + “Do turn Adolphus out of that chair and sit down,” she said, sinking into + her accustomed seat. Adolphus was the Chow dog before mentioned, an + accomplished animal who could mount guard with the poker and stand on his + head, and had been pleased to favour me with his friendship. + </p> + <p> + “I miss Dale greatly,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you do. You are very fond of him?” + </p> + <p> + “Very,” said I. “By the by, how did you first come across Dale?” + </p> + <p> + She threw me a swift glance and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in the most respectable way. I was dining at the Carlton with Sir + Joshua Oldfield, the famous surgeon, you know. He performed a silly little + operation on me last year, and since then we've been great friends. Dale + and some sort of baby boy were dining there, too, and afterwards, in the + lounge, Sir Joshua introduced them to me. Dale asked me if he could call. + I said 'Yes.' Perhaps I was wrong. Anyhow, <i>voila</i>! Do you know Sir + Joshua?” + </p> + <p> + “I sat next to him once at a public dinner. He's a friend of the + Kynnersleys. A genial old soul.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a dear!” said Lola. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know many of Dale's friends?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Hardly any,” she replied. “It's rather lonesome.” Then she broke into a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I was so terrified at meeting you the first time. Dale can talk of no one + else. He makes a kind of god of you. I felt I was going to hate you like + the devil. I expected quite a different person.” + </p> + <p> + The diplomatist listens to much and says little. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. “I thought you would be a big beefy man with a red face, you + know. He gave me the idea somehow by calling you a 'splendid chap.' You + see, I couldn't think of a 'splendid chap' with a white face and a waxed + moustache and your way of talking.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” said I, “not to come up to your idea of the heroic.” + </p> + <p> + “But you do!” she cried, with one of her supple twists of the body. “It + was I that was stupid. And I don't hate you at all. You can see that I + don't. I didn't even hate you when you came as an enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said I. “What made you think that? We agreed to argue it out, if you + remember.” + </p> + <p> + She drew out of a case beside her one of her unspeakable cigarettes. “Do + you suppose,” she said, lighting it, and pausing to inhale the first two + or three puffs of smoke, “do you suppose that a woman who has lived among + wild beasts hasn't got instinct?” + </p> + <p> + I drew my chair nearer to the fire. She was beginning to be uncanny again. + </p> + <p> + “I expected you were going to be horrified at the dreadful creature your + friend had taken up with. Oh, yes, I know in the eyes of your class I'm a + dreadful creature. I'm like a cat in many ways. I'm suspicious of + strangers, especially strangers of your class, and I sniff and sniff until + I feel it's all right. After the first few minutes I felt you were all + right. You're true and honourable, like Dale, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + Like a panther making a sudden spring, she sat bolt upright in her chair + as she launched this challenge at me. Now, it is disconcerting to a man to + have a woman leap at his throat and ask him whether he is true and + honourable, especially when his attitude towards her approaches the + Machiavellian. + </p> + <p> + I could only murmur modestly that I hoped I could claim these + qualifications. + </p> + <p> + “And you don't think me a dreadful woman?” + </p> + <p> + “So far from it, Madame Brandt,” I replied, “that I think you a remarkable + one.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if I am,” she said, sinking back among her cushions. “I should + like to be for Dale's sake. I suppose you know I care a great deal for + Dale?” + </p> + <p> + “I have taken the liberty of guessing it,” said I. “And since you have + done me the honour of taking me so far into your confidence,” I added, + playing what I considered to be my master-card, “may I venture to ask + whether you have contemplated”—I paused—“marriage?” + </p> + <p> + Her brow grew dark, as she looked involuntarily at her bare left hand. + </p> + <p> + “I have got a husband already,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + As I expected. Ladies like Lola Brandt always have husbands unfit for + publication; and as the latter seem to make it a point of honour never to + die, widowed Lolas are as rare as blackberries in spring. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive my rudeness,” I said, “but you wear no wedding ring.” + </p> + <p> + “I threw it into the sea.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to hear about him?” she asked suddenly. “If we are to be + friends, perhaps you had better know. Somehow I don't like talking to Dale + about it. Do you mind putting some coals on the fire?” + </p> + <p> + I busied myself with the coal-scuttle, lit a cigarette, and settled down + to hear the story. If it had not been told in the twilight hour by a woman + with a caressing, enveloping voice like Lola Brandt's I should have yawned + myself out of the house. + </p> + <p> + It was a dismal, ordinary story. Her husband was a gentleman, a Captain + Vauvenarde in the French Army. He had fallen in love with her when she had + first taken Marseilles captive with the prodigiosities of her horse + Sultan. His proposals of manifold unsanctified delights met with + unqualified rejection by the respectable and not too passionately + infatuated Lola. When he nerved himself to the supreme sacrifice of + offering marriage she accepted. + </p> + <p> + She had dreams of social advancement, yearned to be one of the white faces + of the audience in the front rows. The civil ceremony having been + performed, he pleaded with her for a few weeks' secrecy on account of his + family. The weeks grew into months, during which, for the sake of a + livelihood, she fulfilled her professional engagements in many other + towns. At last, when she returned to Marseilles, it became apparent that + Captain Vauvenarde had no intention whatever of acknowledging her openly + as his wife. Hence many tears. Moreover, he had little beyond his pay and + his gambling debts, instead of the comfortable little fortune that would + have assured her social position. Now, officers in the French Army who + marry ladies with performing horses are not usually guided by reason; and + Captain Vauvenarde seems to have been the most unreasonable being in the + world. It was beneath the dignity of Captain Vauvenarde's wife to make a + horse do tricks in public, and it was beneath Captain Vauvenarde's dignity + to give her his name before the world. She must neither be Lola Brandt nor + Madame Vauvenarde. She must give up her fairly lucrative profession and + live in semi-detached obscurity up a little back street on an allowance of + twopence-halfpenny a week and be happy and cheerful and devoted. Lola + refused. Hence more tears. + </p> + <p> + There were scenes of frantic jealousy, not on account of any human being, + but on account of the horse. If she loved him as much as she loved that + abominable quadruped whose artificial airs and graces made him sick every + time he looked at it, she would accede to his desire. Besides, he had the + husband's right—a powerful privilege in France. She pointed out that + he could only exercise it by declaring her to be his wife. Relations were + strained. They led separate lives. From Marseilles she went to Genoa, + whither he followed her. Eventually he went away in a temper and never + came back. She had not heard from him since, and where he was at the + present moment she had not the faintest idea. + </p> + <p> + “So you went cheerfully on with your profession?” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I returned to Marseilles, and there I lost my horse Sultan. Then my + father died and left me pretty well off, and I hadn't the heart to train + another animal. So here I am. Ah!” + </p> + <p> + With one of her lithe movements she rose to her feet, and, flinging out + her arms in a wide gesture, began to walk about the room, stopping here + and there to turn on the light and draw the flaring chintz curtains. I + rose, too, so as to aid her. Suddenly as we met, by the window, she laid + both her hands on my shoulders and looked into my face earnestly and + imploringly, and her lips quivered. I wondered apprehensively what she was + going to do next. + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake, be my friend and help me!” + </p> + <p> + The cry, in her rich, low notes, seemed to come from the depths of the + woman's nature. It caused some absurd and unnecessary chord within me to + vibrate. + </p> + <p> + For the first time I realised that her strong, handsome face could look + nobly and pathetically beautiful. Her eyes swam in an adorable moisture + and grew very human and appealing. In a second all my self-denying + ordinances were forgotten. The witch had me in her power again. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Madame Brandt,” said I, “how can I do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't take Dale from me. I've lived alone, alone, alone all these years, + and I couldn't bear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you care for him so very much?” + </p> + <p> + She withdrew her hands and moved slightly. “Who else in the wide world + have I to care for?” + </p> + <p> + This was very pathetic, but I had the sense to remark that compromising + the boy's future was not the best way of showing her devotion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how could I do that?” she asked. “I can't marry him. And if I do what + I've never done before for any man—become his mistress—who + need know? I could stay in the background.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to forget, dear lady,” said I, “that Captain Vauvenarde is + probably alive.” + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you I've lost sight of him altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite so sure,” I asked, regaining my sanity by degrees, “that + Captain Vauvenarde has lost sight of you?” + </p> + <p> + She turned quickly. “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “You have given him no chance as yet of recovering his freedom.” + </p> + <p> + She passed her hand over her face, and sat down on the sofa. “Do you mean—divorce?” + </p> + <p> + “It's an ugly word, dear Madame Brandt,” said I, as gently as I could, + “but you and I are strong people and needn't fear uttering it. Don't you + think such a scandal would ruin Dale at the very beginning of his career?” + </p> + <p> + There was a short silence. I was glad to see she was feminine enough to + twist and tear her handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “What am I to do?” she asked at last. “I can't live this awful lonely life + much longer. Sometimes I get the creeps.” + </p> + <p> + I might have given her the sound advice to find healthy occupation in + training crocodiles to sit up and beg; but an idea which advanced thinkers + might classify as more suburban was beginning to take shape in my mind. + </p> + <p> + “Has it occurred to you,” I said, “that now you have assumed the + qualifications imposed by Captain Vauvenarde for bearing his name?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand.” + </p> + <p> + “You no longer perform in public. He would have no possible grievance + against you.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you suggesting that I should go back to my husband?” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said I, feeling mighty diplomatic. + </p> + <p> + She looked straight in front of her, with parted lips, fingering her + handkerchief and evidently pondering the entirely new suggestion. I + thought it best to let her ponder. As a general rule, people will do + anything in the world rather than think; so, when one sees a human being + wrapped in thought, one ought to regard wilful disturbance of the process + as sacrilege. I lit a cigarette and wandered about the room. + </p> + <p> + Eventually I came to a standstill before the Venus of Milo. But while I + was admiring its calm, mysterious beauty, the development of a former idea + took the shape of an inspiration which made my heart sing. Fate had put + into my hands the chance of complete eumoiriety. + </p> + <p> + If I could effect a reconciliation between Lola Brandt and her husband, + Dale would be cured almost automatically of his infatuation, and I should + be the Deputy Providence bringing happiness to six human beings—Lola + Brandt, Captain Vauvenarde, Lady Kynnersley, Maisie Ellerton, Dale, and + Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos, who could not fail to be delighted at the + happiness of his goddess. + </p> + <p> + There also might burst joyously on the earth a brood of gleeful little + Vauvenardes and merry little Kynnersleys, who might regard Simon de Gex as + their mythical progenitor. It might add to the gaiety of regiments and the + edification of parliaments. Acts should be judged, thought I, not + according to their trivial essence, but by the light of their far-reaching + consequences. + </p> + <p> + Lola Brandt broke the silence. She did not look at me. She said: + </p> + <p> + “I can't help feeling that you're my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” I cried, in the exultation of my promotion to the role of Deputy + Providence. “I am indeed. And a most devoted one.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me think over what you've said for a day or two—and + then come for an answer?” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “And you won't——?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I know you won't.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell Dale?” I said, guessing. “No, of course not.” + </p> + <p> + She rose and put out both her hands to me in a very noble gesture. I took + them and kissed one of them. + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with parted lips. + </p> + <p> + “You are the best man I have ever met,” she said. + </p> + <p> + At the moment of her saying it I believed it; such conviction is induced + by the utterances of this singular woman. But when I got outside the + drawing-room door my natural modesty revolted. I slapped my thigh + impatiently with what I thought were my gloves. They made so little sound + that I found there was only one. I had left the other inside. I entered + and found Lola Brandt in front of the fire holding my glove in her hand. + She started in some confusion. + </p> + <p> + “Is this yours?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Now whose could it have been but mine? The ridiculous question worried me, + off and on, all the evening. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + The murder is out. A paragraph has appeared in the newspapers to the + effect that the marriage arranged between Mr. Simon de Gex and Miss + Eleanor Faversham will not take place. It has also become common knowledge + that I am resigning my seat in Parliament on account of ill-health. That + is the reason rightly assigned by my acquaintances for the rupture of my + engagement. I am being rapidly killed by the doleful kindness of my + friends. They are so dismally sympathetic. Everywhere I go there are long + faces and solemn hand-shakes. In order to cheer myself I gave a little + dinner-party at the club, and the function might have been a depressed + wake with my corpse in a coffin on the table. My sisters, dear, kind + souls, follow me with anxious eyes as if I were one of their children + sickening for chicken-pox. They upbraid me for leaving them in ignorance, + and in hushed voices inquire as to my symptoms. They both came this + morning to the Albany to see what they could do for me. I don't see what + they can do, save help Rogers put studs in my shirts. They expressed such + affectionate concern that at last I cried out: + </p> + <p> + “My dear girls, if you don't smile, I'll sit upon the hearthrug and howl + like a dog.” + </p> + <p> + Then they exchanged glances and broke into hectic gaiety, dear things, + under the impression that they were brightening me up. I am being deluged + with letters. I had no idea I was such a popular person. They come from + high placed and lowly, from constituents whom my base and servile flattery + have turned into friends, from Members of Parliament, from warm-hearted + dowagers and from little girls who have inveigled me out to lunch for the + purpose of confiding to me their love affairs. I could set up as a general + practitioner of medicine on the advice that is given me. I am recommended + cod-liver oil, lung tonic, electric massage, abdominal belts, warm water, + mud baths, Sandow's treatment, and every patent medicament save rat + poison. I am urged to go to health resorts ranging geographically from the + top of the Jungfrau to Central Africa. All kinds of worthy persons have + offered to nurse me. Old General Wynans writes me a four-page letter to + assure me that I have only to go to his friend Dr. Eustace Adams, of + Wimpole Street, to be cured like a shot. I happen to know that Eustace + Adams is an eminent gynecologist. + </p> + <p> + And the worst of it all is that these effusions written in the milk of + human kindness have to be answered. Dale is not here. I have to sit down + at my desk and toil like a galley slave. I am being worn to a shadow. + </p> + <p> + Lola Brandt, too, has heard the news, Dale in Berlin, and the London + newspapers being her informants. Tears stood in her eyes when I called to + learn her decision. Why had I not told her I was so ill? Why had I let her + worry me with her silly troubles? Why had I not consulted her friend, Sir + Joshua Oldfield? She filled up my chair with cushions (which, like most + men, I find stuffy and comfortless), and if I had given her the slightest + encouragement, would have stuck my feet in hot mustard and water. Why had + I come out on such a dreadful day? It was indeed a detestable day of raw + fog. She pulled the curtains close, and, insisting upon my remaining among + my cushions, piled the grate with coal half-way up the chimney. Would I + like some eucalyptus? + </p> + <p> + “My dear Madame Brandt,” I cried, “my bronchial tubes and lungs are as + strong as a hippopotamus's.” + </p> + <p> + I wish every one would not conclude that I was going off in a rapid + decline. + </p> + <p> + Lola Brandt prowled about me in a wistful, mothering way, showing me a + fresh side of her nature. She is as domesticated as Penelope. + </p> + <p> + “You're fond of cooking, aren't you?” I asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “I adore it. How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “I guessed,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I'm what the French call a <i>vraie bourgeoise</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to hear it,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Are you? I thought your class hated the <i>bourgeoisie</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “The <i>bourgeoisie</i>,” I said, “is the nation's granary of the virtues. + But for God's sake, don't tell any one that I said so!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “If it found its way into print it would ruin my reputation for epigram.” + </p> + <p> + She drew a step or two towards me in her slow rhythmic way, and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “When you say or do a beautiful thing you always try to bite off its + tail.” + </p> + <p> + Then she turned and drew some needlework—plain sewing I believe they + call it—from beneath the Union Jack cushion and sat down. + </p> + <p> + “I'll make a confession,” she said. “Until now I've stuffed away my work + when I heard you coming. I didn't think it genteel. What do you think?” + </p> + <p> + I scanned the shapeless mass of linen or tulle or whatever it was on her + lap. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know whether it's genteel,” I remarked, “but at present it looks + like nothing on God's earth.” + </p> + <p> + My masculine ignorance of such mysteries made her laugh. She is readily + moved to mild mirth, which makes her an easy companion. Besides, little + jokes are made to be laughed at, and I like women who laugh at them. There + was a brief silence. I smoked and made Adolphus stand up on his hind legs + and balance sugar on his nose. His mistress sewed. Presently she said, + without looking up from her work: + </p> + <p> + “I've made up my mind.” + </p> + <p> + I rose from my cushioned seat, into which Adolphus, evidently thinking me + a fool, immediately snuggled himself, and I stood facing her with my back + to the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I am ready to go back to my husband, if he can be found, and, of course, + if he will have me.” + </p> + <p> + I commended her for a brave women. She smiled rather sadly and shook her + head. + </p> + <p> + “Those are two gigantic 'ifs.'” + </p> + <p> + “Giants before now have been slain by the valiant,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “How is Captain Vauvenarde to be found?” + </p> + <p> + “An officer in the French Army is not like a lost sparrow in London. His + whereabouts could be obtained from the French War Office. What is his + regiment?” + </p> + <p> + “The Chasseurs d'Afrique. Yes,” she added thoughtfully. “I see, it isn't + difficult to trace him. I make one condition, however. You can't refuse + me.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Until things are fixed up everything must go on just as at present + between Dale and me. He is not to be told anything. If nothing comes of it + then I'll have him all to myself. I won't give him up and be left alone. + As long as I care for him, I swear to God, I won't!” she said, in her low, + rich voice—and I saw by her face that she was a woman of her word. + “Besides, he would come raving and imploring—and I'm not quite a + woman of stone. It isn't all jam to go back to my husband. Goodness knows + why I am thinking of it. It's for your sake. Do you know that?” + </p> + <p> + I did not. I was puzzled. Why in the world should Lola Brandt, whom I have + only met three or four times, revolutionise the whole of her life for my + sake? + </p> + <p> + “I should have thought it was for Dale's,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you would, being a man,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + I retorted, with a smile: “Woman is the eternal conundrum to which the + wise man always leaves her herself to supply the answer. Doubtless one of + these days you'll do it. Meanwhile, I'll wait in patience.” + </p> + <p> + She gave me one of her sidelong, flashing glances and sewed with more + vigour than appeared necessary. I admired the beautiful curves of her neck + and shoulders as she bent over her work. She seemed too strong to wield + such an insignificant weapon as a needle. + </p> + <p> + “That's neither here nor there,” she said in reference to my last remark. + “I say, I don't look forward to going back to my husband—though why + I should say 'going back' I don't know, as he left me—not I him. + Anyhow, I'm ready to do it. If it can be managed, I'll cut myself adrift + suddenly from Dale. It will be more merciful to him. A man can bear a + sudden blow better than lingering pain. If it can't be managed, well, Dale + will know nothing at all about it, and both he and I will be saved a + mortal deal of worry and unhappiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose” said I, “it can't be managed? Do you propose to keep Dale + ignorant of the danger he is running in keeping up a liaison with a + married woman living apart from her husband?” + </p> + <p> + She reflected. “If my husband says he'll see me damned first before he'll + come back to me, then I'll tell Dale everything, and you can say what you + like to him. He'll be able to judge for himself; but in the meanwhile + you'll let me have what happiness I can.” + </p> + <p> + I accepted the compromise, and, dispossessing Adolphus, sat down again. I + certainly had made progress. Feeling in a benevolent mood, I set forth the + advantages she would reap by assuming her legal status; how at last she + would shake the dust of Bohemia from off her feet, and instead of standing + at the threshold like a disconsolate Peri, she would enter as a right the + Paradise of Philistia which she craved; how her life would be one + continual tea-party, and how, as her husband had doubtless by this time + obtained his promotion, she would be authorised to adopt high and mighty + airs in her relations with the wives of all the captains and lieutenants + in the regiment. She sighed and wondered whether she would like it, after + all. + </p> + <p> + “Here in England I can say 'damn' as often as I choose. I don't say it + very often, but sometimes I feel I must say it or explode.” + </p> + <p> + “There are its equivalents in French,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + She laughed outright. “Fancy my coming out with a <i>sacre nom de Dieu</i> + in a French drawing-room!” + </p> + <p> + “Fancy you shouting 'damn' in an English one.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true,” she said. “I suppose drawing-rooms are the same all the + world over. I do try to talk like a lady—at least, what I imagine + they talk like, for I've never met one.” + </p> + <p> + “You see one every time you look in the glass,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Her olive face flushed. “You mustn't say such things to me if you don't + mean them. I like to think all you say to me is true.” + </p> + <p> + “Why in the world,” I cried, “should you not be a lady? You have the + instincts of one. How many of my fair friends in Mayfair and Belgravia + would have made their drawing-rooms unspeakable just for the sake of not + hurting the feelings of Anastasius Papadopoulos?” + </p> + <p> + She put aside her work and, leaning over the arm of the chair, her chin in + her hands, looked at me gratefully. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so glad you've said that. Dale can't understand it. He wants me to + clear the trash away.” + </p> + <p> + “Dale,” said I, “is young and impetuous. I am a battered old philosopher + with one foot in the grave.” + </p> + <p> + Quick moisture gathered in her eyes. “You hurt me,” she said. “You'll soon + get well and strong again. You must!” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Ce que femme veut, Dieu le veut</i>,” I laughed. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Eh bien, je le veux</i>,” she said with an odd expression in her eyes + which burned golden. They fascinated me, held mine. For some seconds + neither of us moved. Just consider the picture. There among the cushions + of her chair she sprawled beneath the light of a shaded lamp on the + further side, and in front of the leaping flames, a great, powerful, + sinuous creature of sweeping curves, clad in a clinging brown dress, her + head crowned with superb bronze hair, two warm arms bare to the elbow, at + which the sleeve ended in coffee-coloured lace falling over the side of + the chair, and her leopard eyes fixed on me. About her still hung the echo + of her last words spoken in deep tones whose register belongs less to + human habitations than to the jungle. And from her emanated like a + captivating odour—but it was not an odour—a strange magnetic + influence. + </p> + <p> + I have done my best to write her down in my mind a commonplace, vulgar, + good-natured mountebank. But I can do so no longer. + </p> + <p> + There is something deep down in the soul of Lola Brandt which sets her + apart from the kindly race of womankind; whether it is the devil or a + touch of pre-Adamite splendour or an ancestral catamount, I make no + attempt to determine. At any rate, she is too grand a creature to fritter + her life away on a statistic-hunting and pheasant-shooting young Briton + like Dale Kynnersley. He would never begin to understand her. I will save + her from Dale for her own sake. + </p> + <p> + All this, ladies and gentlemen, because her eyes fascinated me, and caused + me to hold my breath, and made my heart beat. + </p> + <p> + And will Captain Vauvenarde understand her? Of course he won't. But then + he is her husband, and husbands are notoriously and <i>cum privilegio</i> + dunder-headed. I make no pretensions to understand her, but as I am + neither her lover nor her husband it does not matter. She says nothing + diabolical or eerie or fantastic or feline or pre-Adamite or uncanny or + spiritual; and yet she <i>is</i>, in a queer, indescribable way, all these + things. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Je le veux</i>,” she said, and we drank in each other's souls, or + gaped at each other like a pair of idiots just as you please. I had a + horrible, yet pleasurable consciousness that she had gripped hold of my + nerves of volition. She was willing me to live. I was a puppet in her + hands like the wild tom-cat. At that moment I declare I could have purred + and rubbed my head against her knee. I would have done anything she bade + me. If she had sent me to fetch the Cham of Tartary's cap or a hair of the + Prester John's beard, I would have telephoned forthwith to Rogers to pack + a suit-case and book a seat in the Orient express. + </p> + <p> + What would have happened next Heaven alone knows—for we could not + have gone on gazing at each other until I backed myself out at the door by + way of leave-taking—had not Anticlimax arrived in the person of Mr. + Anastasius Papadopoulos in his eternal frock-coat. But his gloves were + black. + </p> + <p> + As usual he fell on his knees and kissed his lady's hand. Then he rose and + greeted me with solemn affability. + </p> + <p> + “<i>C'est un privilege de rencontrer den gnadigsten Herrn</i>,” said he. + </p> + <p> + Confining myself to one language, I responded by informing him that it was + an honour always to meet so renowned a professor, and inquired politely + after the health of Hephaestus. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Signore!” he cried. “Do not ask me. It is a tragedy from which I + shall never recover.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down on a footstool by the side of Madame Brandt and burst into + tears, which coursed down his cheeks and moustache and hung like drops of + dew from the point of his imperial. + </p> + <p> + “Is he dead?” asked Madame. + </p> + <p> + “I wish he were! No. It is only the iron self-restraint that I possess + which prevented me from slaying him on the spot. But poor Santa Bianca! My + gentle and accomplished Angora. He has killed her. I can scarcely raise my + head through grief.” + </p> + <p> + Lola put her great arm round the little man's neck and patted him like a + child, while he sobbed as if his heart would break. + </p> + <p> + When he recovered he gave us the details of the tragic end of Santa + Bianca, and wound up by calling down the most ingeniously complicated and + passionate curses on the head of the murderer. Lola Brandt strove to + pacify him. + </p> + <p> + “We all have our sorrows, Anastasius. Did I not lose my beautiful horse + Sultan?” + </p> + <p> + The professor sprang to his full height of four feet and dashed away his + tears with a noble gesture of his black-gloved hand. + </p> + <p> + Base slave that he was to think of his own petty bereavement in the face + of her eternal affliction. He turned to me and bade me mark her serene + nobility. It was a model and an example for him to follow. He, too, would + be brave and present a smiling face to evil fortune. + </p> + <p> + “Behold! I smile, carissima!” he cried dramatically. + </p> + <p> + We beheld—and saw his features (smudged with tearstains and the dye + from the black gloves which he obviously wore out of respect for the + deceased Santa Bianca) contorted into a grimace of hideous imbecility. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said he, assuming his natural expression which was one of + pensive melancholy, “let us change the conversation. You are a great + statesman. Will you kindly let me know your opinion on the foreign policy + of Germany?” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon he sat down again upon his stool and regarded me with earnest + attention. + </p> + <p> + “Germany,” said I, with the solemnity of a Sir Oracle in the smoking-room + of one of the political clubs, “has dreams of an empire beyond her + frontiers, and with a view to converting the dream into a reality, is + turning out battleships nineteen to the dozen.” + </p> + <p> + The Professor nodded his head sagaciously, and looked up at Lola. + </p> + <p> + “Very profound,” said he, “very profound. I shall remember it. I am a + Greek, Monsieur, and the Greeks, as you know, are a nation of + diplomatists.” + </p> + <p> + “Ever since the days of Xenophon,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “You're both too clever for me,” exclaimed our hostess. “Where did you get + your knowledge from, Anastasius?” + </p> + <p> + The Professor, flattered, passed his hand over his bulgy forehead. + </p> + <p> + “I was a great student in my youth,” said he. “Once I could tell you all + the kings of Rome and the date of the battle of Actium. But pressure of + weightier concerns has driven my erudition from me. Pardon me. I have not + yet asked after your health. You are looking sad and troubled. What is the + matter?” + </p> + <p> + He sat bolt upright, fingering his imperial and regarding her with the + keen solicitude of a family physician. To my amazement, Lola Brandt told + him quite simply: + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking of living with my husband again.” + </p> + <p> + “Has the traitor been annoying you?” he asked with a touch of fierceness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! It's my own idea. I'm tired of living alone. I don't even know + where he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to know where he is?” + </p> + <p> + “How can I communicate with him unless I do?” + </p> + <p> + Anastasius Papadopoulos rose, struck an attitude, and thumped his breast. + </p> + <p> + “I will seek him for you at the ends of the earth, and will bring him to + prostrate himself at your feet.” + </p> + <p> + “That's very kind of you, Anastasius,” said Lola gently; “but what will + become of your cats?” + </p> + <p> + The dwarf raised his hand impressively. + </p> + <p> + “The Almighty will have them in His keeping. I have also my pupil and + assistant, Quast.” + </p> + <p> + Lola smiled indulgently from her cushions, showing her curious even teeth. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't do anything so mad, Anastasius, I forbid you.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said he in a most stately manner, “when I devote myself, it is + to the death. I have the honour to salute you!”—he bowed over her + hand and kissed it. “Monsieur.” He bowed to me with the profundity of a + hidalgo, and trotted magnificently out of the room. + </p> + <p> + It was all so sudden that it took my breath away. + </p> + <p> + “Well I'm——” I didn't know what I was, so I stopped. Lola + Brandt broke into low laughter at my astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “That's Anastasius's way,” she explained. + </p> + <p> + “But the little man surely isn't going to leave his cats and start on a + wild-goose chase over Europe to find your husband?” + </p> + <p> + “He thinks he is, but I shan't let him.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you won't,” said I. “And will you tell me why you made so + hot-headed a person your confidant?” + </p> + <p> + I confess that I was wrathful. Here had I been using the wiles of a Balkan + chancery to bring the lady to my way of thinking, and here was she, to my + face, making a joke of it with this caricature of a Paladin. + </p> + <p> + “My dearest friend,” she replied earnestly, “don't be angry with me. I've + given the poor little man something to think of besides the death of his + cat. It will do him good. And why shouldn't I tell him? He's a dear old + friend, and in his way was so good to me when I was unhappy. He knows all + about my married life. You may think he's half-witted; but he isn't. In + ordinary business dealings he's as shrewd as they make 'em. The manager + who beats Anastasius over a contract is yet to be born.” + </p> + <p> + By some extraordinary process of the contortionist's art, she curled + herself out of her chair on to the hearthrug and knelt before me, her + hands clasped on my knee. + </p> + <p> + “You're not angry with me, are you?” she asked in her rich contralto. + </p> + <p> + I took both her hands, rose, and assisted her to rise. I was not going to + be mesmerised again. + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” I laughed. Indeed my wrath had fallen from me. + </p> + <p> + Her bosom heaved with a sigh. “I'm so glad,” she said. Her breath fanned + my cheek. It was aromatic, intoxicating. Her lips are ripe and full. + </p> + <p> + “You had better find your husband as soon as possible,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do. And it strikes me I had better go and find him myself.” + </p> + <p> + She started. “You?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said. “The Chasseurs d'Afrique are probably in Africa, and the + doctors have ordered me to winter in a hot climate, and I shall go on + writing a million letters a day if I stay here, which will kill me off in + no time with brain fag and writer's cramp. Your husband will be what the + newspapers call an objective. Good-bye!” said I, “I'll bring him to you + dead or alive.” + </p> + <p> + And without knowing it at the time, I made an exit as magnificent as that + of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + I do not know whether I ought to laugh or rail. Judged by the ordinary + canons that regulate the respectable life to which I have been accustomed, + I am little short of a lunatic. The question is: Does the recognition of + lunacy in oneself tend to amusement or anger? I compromise with myself. I + am angry at having been forced on an insane adventure, but the prospect of + its absurdity gives me a considerable pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Let me set it down once and for all. I resent Lola Brandt's existence. + When I am out of her company I can contemplate her calmly from my vantage + of social and intellectual superiority. I can pooh-pooh her fascinations. + I can crack jokes on her shortcomings. I can see perfectly well that I am + Simon de Gex, M.P. (I have not yet been appointed to the stewardship of + the Chiltern Hundreds), of Eton and Trinity College, Cambridge, a + barrister of the Inner Temple (though a brief would cause me as much + dismay as a command to conduct the orchestra at Covent Garden), formerly + of the Foreign Office, a man of the world, a diner-out, a hardened jester + at feminine wiles, a cynical student of philosophy, a man of birth, and, I + believe, breeding with a cultivated taste in wine and food and furniture, + one also who, but for a little pain inside, would soon become a Member of + His Majesty's Government, and eventually drop the “Esquire” at the end of + his name and stick “The Right Honourable” in front of it—in fact, a + most superior, wise and important person; and I can also see perfectly + well that Lola Brandt is an uneducated, lowly bred, vagabond female, with + a taste, as I have remarked before, for wild beasts and tea-parties, with + whom I have as much in common as I have with the feathered lady on a + coster's donkey-cart or the Fat Woman at the Fair. I can see all this + perfectly well in the calm seclusion of my library. But when I am in her + presence my superiority, like Bob Acres's valour, oozes out through my + finger-tips; I become a besotted idiot; the sense and the sight and the + sound of her overpower me; I proclaim her rich and remarkable personality; + and I bask in her lazy smiles like any silly undergraduate whose knowledge + of women has hitherto been limited to his sisters and the common little + girl at the tobacconist's. + </p> + <p> + I say I resent it. I resent the low notes in her voice. I resent the + cajolery of the supple twists of her body. I resent her putting her hands + on my shoulders, and, as the twopenny-halfpenny poets say, fanning my + cheek with her breath. If it had not been for that I should never have + promised to go in search of her impossible husband. At any rate, it is + easy to discover his whereabouts. A French bookseller has telegraphed to + Paris for the <i>Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise</i>, the French + Army List. It locates every officer in the French army, and as the + Chasseurs d'Afrique generally chase in Africa, it will tell me the station + in Algeria or Tunisia which Captain Vauvenarde adorns. I can go straight + to him as Madame Brandt's plenipotentiary, and if the unreasonable and + fire-eating warrior does not run me through the body for impertinence + before he has time to appreciate the delicacy of my mission, I may be able + to convince him that a well-to-do wife is worth the respectable + consideration of a hard-up captain of Chasseurs. I say I may be able to + convince him; but I shrink from the impudence of the encounter. I am to + accost a total stranger in a foreign army and tell him to return to his + wife. This is the pretty little mission I have undertaken. It sounded + glorious and eumoirous and quixotic and deucedly funny, during the noble + moment of inspiration, when Lola's golden eyes were upon me; but now—well, + I shall have to persuade myself that it is funny, if I am to carry it out. + It is very much like wagering that one will tweak by the nose the first + gentleman in gaiters and shovel-hat one meets in Piccadilly. This by some + is considered the quintessence of comedy. I foresee a revision of my sense + of humour. + </p> + <p> + This afternoon I met Lady Kynnersley again—at the Ellertons'. I was + talking to Maisie, who has grown no happier, when I saw her sailing across + to me with questions hoisted in her eyes. Being particularly desirous not + to report progress periodically to Lady Kynnersley, I made a desperate + move. I went forward and greeted her. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Kynnersley,” said I, “somebody was telling me that you are in urgent + need of funds for something. With my usual wooden-headedness I have + forgotten what it is—but I know it is a deserving organisation.” + </p> + <p> + The philanthropist, as I hoped, ousted the mother. She exclaimed at once: + </p> + <p> + “It must have been the Cabmen and Omnibus Drivers' Rheumatic Hospital.” + </p> + <p> + “That was it!” said I, hearing of the institution for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “They are martyrs to rheumatic gout, and of course have no means of + obtaining proper treatment; so we have secured a site at Harrogate and are + building a comfortable place, half hospital, half hotel, where they can be + put up for a shilling a day and have all the benefits of the waters just + as if they were staying at the Hotel Majestic. Do you want to become a + subscriber?” + </p> + <p> + “I am eager to,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Then come over here and I'll tell you all about it.” + </p> + <p> + I sat with her in a corner of the room and listened to her fairy-tale. She + wrung my heart to such a pitch of sympathy that I rose and grasped her by + the hand. + </p> + <p> + “It is indeed a noble project,” I cried. “I love the London cabby as my + brother, and I'll post you a cheque for a thousand pounds this evening. + Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + I left her in a state of joyous stupefaction and made my escape. If it had + not fallen in with my general scheme of good works I should regard it as + an expensive method of avoiding unpleasant questions. + </p> + <p> + Another philanthropist, by the way, of quite a different type from Lady + Kynnersley, who has lately benefited by my eleemosynary mania is Rex + Campion. I have known him since our University days and have maintained a + sincere though desultory friendship with him ever since. He is also a + friend of Eleanor Faversham, whom he now and then inveigles into weird + doings in the impossible slums of South Lambeth. He has tried on many + occasions to lure me into his web, but hitherto I have resisted. Being the + possessor of a large fortune, he has been able to gratify a devouring + passion for philanthropy, and has squandered most of his money on an + institution—a kind of club, school, labour-bureau, dispensary, + soup-kitchen, all rolled into one—in Lambeth; and there he lives + himself, perfectly happy among a hungry, grubby, scarecrow, tatterdemalion + crowd. At a loss for a defining name, he has called it “Barbara's + Building,” after his mother. His conception of the cosmos is that sun, + moon and stars revolve round Barbara's Building. How he learned that I + was, so to speak, standing at street corners and flinging money into the + laps of the poor and needy, I know not. But he came to see me a day or two + ago, full of Barbara's Building, and departed in high feather with a + cheque for a thousand pounds in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + I may remark here on the peculiar difficulty there is in playing Monte + Cristo with anything like picturesque grace. Any dull dog that owns a pen + and a banking-account can write out cheques for charitable institutions. + But to accomplish anything personal, imaginative, adventurous, anything + with a touch of distinction, is a less easy matter. You wake up in the + morning with the altruistic yearnings of a St. Francois de Sales, and yet + somehow you go to bed in the evening with the craving unsatisfied. You + have really had so few opportunities; and when an occasion does arise it + is hedged around with such difficulties as to baffle all but the most + persistent. Have you ever tried to give a beggar a five-pound note? I did + this morning. + </p> + <p> + She was a miserable, shivering, starving woman of fifty selling matches in + Sackville Street. She held out a shrivelled hand to me, and eyes that once + had been beautiful pleaded hungrily for alms. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” said I to myself, “is an opportunity of bringing unimagined + gladness for a month or two into this forlorn creature's life.” + </p> + <p> + I pressed a five-pound note into her hand and passed on. She ran after me, + terror on her face. + </p> + <p> + “I daren't take it, sir; they would say I had stolen it, and I should be + locked up. No one would believe a gentleman had given it to me.” + </p> + <p> + She trembled, overwhelmed by the colossal fortune that might, and yet + might not, be hers. I sympathised, but not having the change in gold, I + could do no more than listen to an incoherent tale of misery, which did + not aid the solution of the problem. It was manifestly impossible to take + back the note; and yet if she retained it she would be subjected to + scandalous indignities. What was to be done? I turned my eyes towards + Piccadilly and beheld a policeman. A page wearing the name of a milliner's + shop on his cap whisked past me. I stopped him and slipped a shilling into + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Will you ask that policeman to come to me?” + </p> + <p> + The boy tore down the street and told the policeman and followed him up to + me, eager for amusement. + </p> + <p> + “What has the woman been doing, sir?” asked the policeman. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said I. “I have given her a five-pound note.” + </p> + <p> + “What for, sir?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “To further my pursuit of the eumoirous,” said I, whereat he gaped + stolidly; “but, be that as it may, I have given it her as a free gift, and + she is afraid to present it anywhere lest she should be charged with + theft. Will you kindly accompany her to a shop, where she can change it, + and vouch for her honesty?” + </p> + <p> + The policeman, who seemed to form the lowest opinion of my intellect, said + he didn't know a shop on his beat where they could change it. The boy + whistled. The woman held the box of matches in one hand, and in the other + the note, fluttering in the breeze. Idlers paused and looked on. The + policeman grew authoritative and bade them pass along. They crowded all + the more. My position was becoming embarrassing. At last the boy, + remembering the badge of honour on his cap, undertook to change the note + at the hatter's at the corner of the street. So, having given the note to + the boy and bidden the policeman follow him to see fair play, and + encouraged the woman to follow the policeman, I resumed my walk down + Sackville Street. + </p> + <p> + But what a pother about a simple act of charity! In order to repeat it + habitually I shall have to rely on the fortuitous attendance of a boy and + a policeman, or have a policeman and a boy permanently attached to my + person, which would be as agreeable as the continuous escort of a jackdaw + and a yak. + </p> + <p> + Poor Latimer is having a dreadful time. Apparently my ten thousand pounds + have vanished like a snowflake on the river of liabilities. How he is to + repay me he does not know. He wishes he had not yielded to temptation and + had allowed himself to be honestly hammered. Then he could have taken his + family to sing in the streets with a quiet conscience. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” said I through the telephone this morning. “What are ten + thousand pounds to me?” + </p> + <p> + I heard him gasp at the other end. + </p> + <p> + “But you're not a millionaire!” + </p> + <p> + “I am!” I cried triumphantly. And now I come to think of it, I spoke + truly. If a man reckons his capital as half a year's income, doubles it, + and works out the capital that such a yearly income represents, he is the + possessor of a mint of money. + </p> + <p> + “I am,” I cried; “and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll settle five + thousand on Lucy and the children, so that they needn't accompany you in + your singing excursions. I shouldn't like them to catch cold, poor dears, + and ruin their voices.” + </p> + <p> + In tones more than telephonically agonised he bade me not make a jest of + his misery. I nearly threw the receiver at the blockhead. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not jesting,” I bawled; “I'm deadly serious. I knew Lucy before you + did, and I kissed her and she kissed me years before she knew of your high + existence; and if she had been a sensible woman she would have married me + instead of you—what? The first time you've heard of it? Of course it + is—and be decently thankful that you hear it now.” + </p> + <p> + It is pleasant sometimes to tell the husbands of girls you have loved + exactly what you think of them; and I had loved Lucy Latimer. She came, an + English rose, to console me for the loss of my French <i>fleur-de-lis</i>, + Clothilde. Or was it the other way about? One does get so mixed in these + things. At any rate, she did not marry me, her first love, but jilted me + most abominably for Latimer. So I shall heap five thousand pounds on her + head. + </p> + <p> + I have been unfortunate in my love affairs. I wonder why? Which reminds me + that I made the identical remark to Lucy Latimer a month or two ago. (She + is a plump, kind, motherly, unromantic little person now.) She had the + audacity to reply that I had never had any. + </p> + <p> + “<i>You</i>, Lucy Crooks, dare say such a thing!” I exclaimed indignantly. + </p> + <p> + She smiled. “Are there many more qualified than I to give the opinion?” + </p> + <p> + I remember that I rose and looked her sternly in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Lucy Crooks or Lucy Latimer,” said I, “you are nothing more or less than + a common hussy.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon she laughed as if I had paid her a high compliment. + </p> + <p> + I maintain that I have been unfortunate in my love affairs. First, there + was an angel-faced widow, a contemporary of my mother's, whom I wooed in + Greek verses—and let me tell the young lover that it is much easier + to write your own doggerel and convert it into Greek than to put “To + Althea” into decent Anacreontics. I also took her to the Eton and Harrow + match, and talked to her of women's hats and the things she loved, and + neglected the cricket. But she would have none of me. In the flood tide of + my passion she married a scorbutic archdeacon of the name of Jugg. Then + there was a lady whose name for the life of me I can't remember. It was + something ending in “-ine.” We quarrelled because we held divergent views + on Mr. Wilson Barrett. Then there was Clothilde, whose tragical story I + have already unfolded; Lucy Crooks, who threw me over for this dear, + amiable, wooden-headed stockjobbing Latimer; X, Y and Z—but here, + let me remark, I was the hunted—mammas spread nets for me which by + the grace of heaven and the ungraciousness of the damsels I escaped; and, + lastly, my incomparable Eleanor Faversham. Now, I thought, am I safe in + harbour? If ever a match could have been labelled “Pure heaven-made goods, + warranted not to shrink”—that was one. But for this rupture there is + an all-accounting reason. For the others there was none. I vow I went on + falling in love until I grew absolutely sick and tired of the condition. + You see, the vocabulary of the pastime is so confoundedly limited. One has + to say to B what one has said to A; to C exactly what one has said to A + and B; and when it comes to repeating to F the formularies one has uttered + to A, B, C, D and E one grows almost hysterical with the boredom of it. + That was the delightful charm of Eleanor Faversham; she demanded no + formularies or re-enactment of raptures. + </p> + <p> + The <i>Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise</i> has arrived. It is a + volume of nearly eighteen hundred pages, and being uncut both at top and + bottom and at the side it is peculiarly serviceable as a work of + reference. I attacked it bravely, however, hacking my way into it, + paperknife in hand. But to my dismay, the more I hacked the less could I + find of Captain Vauvenarde. I sought him in the Alphabetical Repertory of + Colonial Troops, in the list of officers <i>hors cadre</i>, in the lists + of seniority, in the list of his regiment, wherever he was likely or + unlikely to be. There is no person in the French army by the name of + Vauvenarde. + </p> + <p> + I went straight to Lola Brandt with the hideous volume and the unwelcome + news. Together we searched the pages. + </p> + <p> + “He <i>must</i> be here,” she said, with feminine disregard of fact. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite certain you have got the name right?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is my own name!” + </p> + <p> + “So it is,” said I; “I was forgetting. But how do you know he was in the + army at all?” + </p> + <p> + He might have been an adventurer, a Captain of Kopenick of the day, who + had poured a gallant but mendacious tale into her ears. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly ever saw him out of uniform. He was quartered at Marseilles on + special duty. I knew some of his brother officers.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said I, “there are only two alternatives. Either he has left the + army or he is——” + </p> + <p> + “Dead?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope,” said I, “that he has left the army.” + </p> + <p> + “You must find out, Mr. de Gex,” she said in a low voice. “I took it for + granted that my husband was alive. It's horrible to think that he may be + dead. It alters everything, somehow. Until I know, I shall be in a state + of awful suspense. You'll make inquiries at once, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you love your husband, Madame Brandt?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + She looked at the fire for some time without replying. She stood with one + foot on the fender. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I did when I married him,” she said at last. “I thought I did + when he left me.” + </p> + <p> + “And now?” + </p> + <p> + She turned her golden eyes full on me. It is a disconcerting trick of hers + at any time, because her eyes are at once wistful and compelling; but on + this occasion it was startling. They held mine for some seconds, and I + caught in them a glimpse of the hieroglyphic of the woman's soul. Then she + turned her head slowly and looked again into the fire. + </p> + <p> + “Now?” she echoed. “Many things have happened between then and now. If he + is alive and I go to him, I'll try to think again that I love him. It will + be the only way. It will save me from playing hell with my life.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you see your relations to Dale in that light,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't thinking of Dale,” she said calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Of what, then, if I may ask without impertinence?” + </p> + <p> + She broke into a laugh which ended in a sigh, and then swung her splendid + frame away from the fireplace and walked backwards and forwards, her + figure swaying and her arms flung about in unrestrained gestures. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right,” she said, with an odd note of hardness in her + voice. “You're quite right in what you said the other day—that it + was high time I went back to my husband. I pray God he is not dead. I have + a feeling that he isn't. He can't be. I count on you to find him and ask + him to meet me. It would be better than writing. I don't know what to say + when I have a pen in my hand. You must find him and speak to him and send + me a wire and I'll come straight away to any part of the earth. Or would + you like me to come with you and help you find him? But no; that's + idiotic. Forget that I have said it. I'm a fool. But he must be found. He + must, he must!” + </p> + <p> + She paused in her swinging about the room for which I was sorry, as her + panther-in-a-cage movements were exceedingly beautiful, and she gazed at + me with a tragic air, wringing her hands. I was puzzled to find an + adequate reason for this sudden emotional outburst. Hitherto she had + accepted the prospect of a resumption of married life with a fatalistic + calm. Now when the man is either dead or has vanished into space, she pins + all her hopes of happiness on finding him. And why had her salvation from + destruction nothing to do with Dale? There is obviously another range of + emotions at work beneath it all; but what their nature is baffles me. + Although I contemplate with equanimity my little corner in the Garden of + Prosperpine, and with indifference this common lodging-house of earth, and + although I view mundane affairs with the same fine, calm, philosophic, + satirical eye as if I were already a disembodied spirit, yet I do not like + to be baffled. It makes me angry. But during this interview with Lola + Brandt I had not time to be angry. I am angry now. In fact I am in a + condition bordering on that of a mad dog. If Rogers came and disturbed me + now, as I am writing, I would bite him. But I will set calmly down the + story of this appalling afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Lola stood before me wringing her hands. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I can get an introduction to the <i>Chef de bureau</i> of the information + department of the <i>Ministere de la Guerre</i> in Paris,” I replied after + a moment's reflection. “He will be able to tell me whether Captain + Vauvenarde is alive or dead.” + </p> + <p> + “He is alive. He must be.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. But I doubt whether Captain Vauvenarde keeps the office + informed of his movements.” + </p> + <p> + “But you'll go in search of him, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “The earth is rather a large place,” I objected. “He may be in Dieppe, or + he may be on top of Mount Popocatapetl.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure you'll find him,” she said encouragingly. + </p> + <p> + “You'll own,” said I, “that there's something humourous in the idea of my + wandering all over the surface of the planet in search of a lost captain + of Chasseurs. It is true that we might employ a private detective.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” she cried eagerly. “Why not? Then you could stay here—and I + could go on seeing you till the news came. Let us do that.” + </p> + <p> + The swiftness of her change of mood surprised me. + </p> + <p> + “What is the particular object of your going on seeing me?” I asked, with + a smile. + </p> + <p> + She turned away and shrugged her shoulders and took up her pensive + attitude by the fire. + </p> + <p> + “I have no other friend,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “There's Dale.” + </p> + <p> + “He's not the same.” + </p> + <p> + “There's Sir Joshua Oldfield.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + I lit a cigarette and sat down. There was a long silence. In some + unaccountable way she had me under her spell again. I felt a perfectly + insane dismay at the prospect of ending this queer intimacy, and I viewed + her intrigue with Dale with profound distaste. Lola had become a habit. + The chair I was sitting in was <i>my</i> chair. Adolphus was <i>my</i> + dog. I hated the idea of Dale making him stand up and do sentry with the + fire shovel, while Lola sprawled gracefully on the hearthrug. On the other + hand the thought of remaining in London and sharing with my young friend + the privilege of her society was intolerable. + </p> + <p> + I smoked, and, watching her bosom rise and fall as she leaned forward with + one arm on the mantelpiece, argued it out with myself, and came to the + paradoxical conclusion that I could pack her off without a pang to + Kamtchatka and the embraces of her unknown husband, but could not hand her + over to Dale without feelings of the deepest repugnance. A pretty position + to find myself in. I threw away my cigarette impatiently. + </p> + <p> + Presently she said, not stirring from her pose: + </p> + <p> + “I shall miss you terribly if you go. A man like you doesn't come into the + life of a common woman like me without”—she hesitated for a word—“without + making some impression. I can't bear to lose you.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be very sorry to give up our pleasant comradeship,” said I, “but + even if I stay and send the private inquiry agent instead of going myself, + I shan't be able to go on seeing you in this way.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be scarcely dignified.” + </p> + <p> + “On account of Dale?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely.” + </p> + <p> + There was another pause, during which I lit another cigarette. When I + looked up I saw great tears rolling down her cheeks. A weeping woman + always makes me nervous. You never know what she is going to do next. + Safety lies in checking the tears—in administering a tonic. Still, + her wish to retain me was very touching. I rose and stood before her by + the mantelpiece. + </p> + <p> + “You can't have your pudding and eat it too,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “You can't have Captain Vauvenarde for your husband, Dale for your <i>cavaliere + servente</i>, and myself for your guide, philosopher and friend all at the + same time.” + </p> + <p> + “Which would you advise me to give up?” + </p> + <p> + “That's obvious. Give up Dale.” + </p> + <p> + She uttered a sound midway between a sob and a laugh, and said, as it + seemed, ironically: + </p> + <p> + “Would you take his place?” + </p> + <p> + Somewhat ironically, too, I replied, “A crock, my dear lady, with one foot + in the grave has no business to put the other into the <i>Pays du Tendre</i>.” + </p> + <p> + But all the same I had an absurd desire to take her at her word, not for + the sake of constituting myself her <i>amant en titre</i>, but so as to + dispossess the poor boy who was clamouring wildly for her among his + mother's snuffy colleagues in Berlin. + </p> + <p> + “That's another reason why I shrink from your going in search of my + husband,” she said, dabbing her eyes. “Your ill-health.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to go abroad out of this dreadful climate in any case. + Doctor's orders. And I might just as well travel about with an object in + view as idle in Monte Carlo or Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “But you might die!” she cried; and her tone touched my heart. + </p> + <p> + “I've got to,” I said, as gently as I could; and the moment the words + passed my lips I regretted them. + </p> + <p> + She turned a terrified look on me and seized me by the arms. + </p> + <p> + “Is it as bad as that? Why haven't you told me?” + </p> + <p> + I lifted my arms to her shoulders and shook my head and smiled into her + eyes. They seemed true, honest eyes, with a world of pain behind them. If + I had not regarded myself as the gentleman in the Greek Tragedy walking + straight to my certain doom, and therefore holding myself aloof from such + vain things, I should have yielded to the temptation and kissed her there + and then. And then goodness knows what would have happened. + </p> + <p> + As it was it was bad enough. For, as we stood holding on to each other's + shoulders in a ridiculous and compromising attitude, the door opened and + Dale Kynnersley burst, unannounced, into the room. He paused on the + threshold and gaped at us, open-mouthed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + We sprang apart, for all the world like a guilty pair surprised. Luckily + the room was in its normal dim state of illumination, so that to one + suddenly entering, the expression on our faces was not clearly visible; on + the other hand, the subdued light gave a romantic setting to the + abominable situation. + </p> + <p> + Lola saved it, however. She rushed to Dale. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what Mr. de Gex was just telling me? His illness—it is + worse than any one thought. It's incurable. He can't live long; he must + die soon. It's dreadful—dreadful! Did you know it?” + </p> + <p> + Dale looked from her to me, and after a slight pause, came forward. + </p> + <p> + “Is this true, Simon?” + </p> + <p> + A plague on the woman for catching me in the trap! Before Dale came in I + was on the point of putting an airy construction on my indiscreet speech. + I had no desire to discuss my longevity with any one. I want to keep my + miserable secret to myself. It was exasperating to have to entrust it even + to Dale. And yet, if I repudiated her implied explanation of our apparent + embrace it would have put her hopelessly in the wrong. I had to support + her. + </p> + <p> + “It's what the doctors say,” I replied, “but whether it's true or not is + another matter.” + </p> + <p> + Again he looked queerly from me to Lola and from Lola back to me. His + first impression of our attitude had been a shock from which he found it + difficult to recover. I smiled, and, although perfectly innocent, felt a + villain. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Brandt is good enough to be soft-hearted and to take a tragic view + of a most commonplace contingency.” + </p> + <p> + “But it isn't commonplace. By God, it's horrible!” cried the boy, the + arrested love for me suddenly gushing into his heart. “I had no idea of + it. In Heaven's name, Simon, why didn't you tell me? My dear old Simon.” + </p> + <p> + Tears rushed into his eyes and he gripped my hand until I winced. I put my + other hand on his shoulder and laughed with a contorted visage. + </p> + <p> + “My good Dale, the moribund are fragile.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Lord, man, how can you make a jest of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you have me drive about in a hearse, instead of a cab, by way of + preparation?” + </p> + <p> + “But what have the doctors told you?” asked Lola. + </p> + <p> + “My two dear people!” I cried, “for goodness' sake don't fall over me in + this way. I'm not going to die to-morrow unless my cook poisons me or I'm + struck by lightning. I'm going to live for a deuce of a time yet. A couple + of weeks at least. And you'll very much oblige me by not whispering a word + abroad about what you've heard this afternoon. It would cause me infinite + annoyance. And meanwhile I suggest to you, Dale, as the lawyers say, that + you have been impolite enough not to say how-do-you-do to your hostess.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to her rather sheepishly, and apologised. My news had bowled him + over, he declared. He shook hands with her, laughed and walked Adolphus + about on his hind legs. + </p> + <p> + “But where have you dropped from?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Berlin. I came straight through. Didn't you get my wire?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “I sent one.” + </p> + <p> + “I never got it.” + </p> + <p> + He swung his arms about in a fine rage. + </p> + <p> + “If ever I get hold of that son of Satan I'll murder him. He was covered + up to his beastly eyebrows in silver lace and swords and whistles and + medals and things. He walked up and down the railway station as if he + owned the German navy and ran trains as a genteel hobby. I gave him ten + marks to send the telegram. The miserable beast has sneaked the lot. I'll + get at the railway company through the Embassy and have the brute sacked + and put in prison. Did you ever hear of such a skunk?” + </p> + <p> + “He must have thought you a very simple and charming young Englishman,” + said I. + </p> + <p> + “You've done the same thing yourself!” he retorted indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” said I. “If I do send a telegram in that loose way, I choose + a humble and honest-looking porter and give him the exact fee for the + telegram and a winning smile.” + </p> + <p> + “Rot!” said Dale, and turning to Lola—“He has demoralised the whole + railway system of Europe with his tips. I've seen him give a franc to the + black greasy devil that bangs at the carriage wheels with a bit of iron. + He would give anybody anything.” + </p> + <p> + He had recovered his boyish pride in my ridiculous idiosyncracies, and was + in process of illustrating again to Lola what a “splendid chap” I was. + Poor lad! If he only knew what a treacherous, traitorous, Machiavelli of a + hero he had got. For the moment I suffered from a nasty crick in the + conscience. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't he, Adolphus, you celestial old blackguard?” he laughed. Then + suddenly: “My hat! You two are fond of darkness! It gives me the creeps. + Do you mind, Lola, if I turn on the light?” + </p> + <p> + He marched in his young way across to the switches and set the room in the + blaze he loved. My crick of the conscience was followed by an impulse of + resentment. He took it for granted that his will was law in the house. He + swaggered around the room with a proprietary air. He threw in the casual + “Lola” as if he owned her. Dale is the most delightful specimen of the + modern youth of my acquaintance. But even Dale, with all his frank charm + of manner, has the modern youth's offhand way with women. I often wonder + how women abide it. But they do, more shame to them, and suffer more than + they realise by their indulgence. When next I meet Maisie Ellerton I will + read her a wholesome lecture, for her soul's good, on the proper treatment + a self-respecting female should apply to the modern young man. + </p> + <p> + Dale filled the room with his clear young laugh, and turned on every light + in the place. Lola and I exchanged glances—she had adopted her usual + lazy pantherine attitude in the armchair—and her glance was not that + of a happy woman to whom a longed-for lover had unexpectedly come. Its + real significance I could not divine, but it was more wistful than merely + that of a fellow-conspirator. + </p> + <p> + “By George!” cried Dale, pulling up a chair by Lola's side, and stretching + out his long, well-trousered legs in front of the fire. “It's good to come + back to civilisation and a Christian language and a fireside—and + other things,” he added, squeezing Lola's hand. “If only it had not been + for this horrible news about you, dear old man——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do forget it and give me a little peace!” I cried. “Why have you come + back all of a sudden?” + </p> + <p> + “The Wymington people wired for me. It seems the committee are divided + between me and Sir Gerald Macnaughton.” + </p> + <p> + “He has strong claims,” said I. “He has been Mayor of the place and got + knighted by mistake. He also gives large dinners and wears a beautiful + diamond pin.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe he goes to bed in it. Oh, he's an awful ass! It was he who said + at a public function 'The Mayor of Wymington must be like Caesar's wife—all + things to all men!' Oh, he's a colossal ass! And his conceit! My word!” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't expatiate on it,” said I. “I who speak have suffered much at + the hands of Sir Gerald Macnaughton.” + </p> + <p> + “If he did get into Parliament he'd expect an armchair to be put for him + next to the Speaker. Really, Lola, you never saw such a chap. If there was + any one else up against me I wouldn't mind. Anyway, I'm running down to + Wymington to-morrow to interview the committee. And if they choose me, + then it'll be a case of 'Lord don't help me and don't help the b'ar, and + you'll see the derndest best b'ar fight that ever was.' I'll make things + hum in Wymington!” + </p> + <p> + He went on eagerly to explain how he would make things hum. For the moment + he had forgotten his enchantress who, understanding nothing of platforms + and planks and electioneering machinery, smiled with pensive politeness at + the fire. Here was the Dale that I knew and loved, boyish, impetuous, + slangy, enthusiastic. His dark eyes flashed, and he threw back his head + and laughed, as he enunciated his brilliant ideas for capturing the + constituency. + </p> + <p> + “When I was working for you, I made love to half the women in the place. + You never knew that, you dear old stick. Now I'm going in on my own + account I'll make love to the whole crowd. You won't mind, Lola, will you? + There's safety in numbers. And when I have made love to them one by one + I'll get 'em all together and make love to the conglomerate mass! And then + I'll rake up all the prettiest women in London and get 'em down there to + humbug the men—” + </p> + <p> + “Lady Kynnersley will doubtless be there,” said I; “and I don't quite see + her—” + </p> + <p> + He broke in with a laugh: “Oh! the mater! I'll fix up her job all right. + She'll just love it, won't she? And then I know a lot of silly asses with + motor-cars who'll come down. They can't talk for cob-nuts, and think the + Local Option has something to do with vivisection, and have a vague idea + that champagne will be cheaper if we get Tariff Reform—but they'll + make a devil of a noise at meetings and tote people round the country in + their cars holding banners with 'Vote for Kynnersley' on them. That's a + sound idea, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + I gravely commended the statesmanlike sagacity of his plan of campaign, + and promised to write as soon as I got home to one or two members of the + committee whom I suspected of pro-Macnaughton leanings. + </p> + <p> + “I do hope they'll adopt you!” I cried fervently. + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” murmured Lola in her low notes. + </p> + <p> + “If they don't,” said Dale, “I'll ask Raggles to give me an unpaid billet + somewhere. But,” he added, with a sigh, “that will be an awful rotten game + in comparison.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you won't make Raggles hum,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He laughed, rose and straddled across the hearthrug, his back to the fire. + </p> + <p> + “He'd throw me out if I tried, wouldn't he? But if they do adopt me—I + swear I'll make you proud of me, Simon. I'll stick my soul into it. It's + the least I can do in this horrid cuckoo sort of proceeding, and I feel I + shall be fighting for you as well as for myself. My dear old chap, you + know what I mean, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + I knew, and was touched. I wished him God-speed with all my heart. He was + a clean, honest, generous gentleman, and I admired, loved and respected + him as he stood there full of his youth and hope. I suddenly felt quite + old and withered at the root of my being, like some decrepit king who + hands his crown to the young prince. I rose to take my leave (for what + advantage was there in staying?) and felt that I was abandoning to Dale + other things beside my crown. + </p> + <p> + Lola's strong, boneless hand closed round mine in a more enveloping grip + than ever. She looked at me appealingly. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I see you again before you go?” + </p> + <p> + “Before you go?” cried Dale. “Where are you off to?” + </p> + <p> + “Somewhere south, out of the fogs.” + </p> + <p> + “When?” + </p> + <p> + “At once,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He turned to our hostess. “We can't let him go like that. I wonder if you + could fix up a little dinner here, Lola, for the three of us. It would be + ripping, so cosy, you know.” + </p> + <p> + He glowed with the preposterous inspiration. Lola began politely: + </p> + <p> + “Of course, if Mr. de Gex——” + </p> + <p> + “It would be delightful,” said I, “but I'm starting at once—to-morrow + or the day after. We will have the dinner when I come back and you are a + full-blown Member of Parliament.” + </p> + <p> + I made my escape and fled to my own cheerful library. It is oak-panelled + and furnished with old oak, and the mezzo-tints on the walls are mellow. + Of the latter, I have a good collection, among them a Prince Rupert of + which I am proud. I threw myself, a tired man, into an armchair by the + fire, and rang the bell for a brandy and soda. Oh, the comfort of the + rooms, the comfort of Rogers, the comfort of the familiar backs of the + books in the shelves! I felt loth to leave it all and go vagabonding about + the cold world on my lunatic adventure. For the first time in my life I + cursed Marcus Aurelius. I shook my fist at him as he stood on the shelf + within easy reach of my hand. It was he who had put into my head this + confounded notion of achieving eumoiriety. Am I dealing to myself, I + asked, a happy lot and portion? Certainly not, I replied, and when Rogers + brought me my brandy and soda I drank it off desperately. After that I + grew better, and drew up a merry little Commination Service. + </p> + <p> + A plague on the little pain inside. + </p> + <p> + A plague on Lady Kynnersley for weeping me into my rash undertaking. + </p> + <p> + A plague on Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos for aiding and abetting Lady + Kynnersley. + </p> + <p> + A plague on Captain Vauvenarde for running away from his wife; for giving + up the army; for not letting me know whether he is alive or dead; for + being, I'll warrant him, in the most uncomfortable and ungetatable spot on + the globe. + </p> + <p> + A plague on Dale for becoming infatuated with Lola Brandt. A plague on him + for beguiling me to her acquaintance; for bursting into the room at that + unfortunate moment; for his generous, unsuspecting love for me; for his + youth and hope and charm; for asking me to dine with Lola and himself in + ripping cosiness. + </p> + <p> + A plague on myself—just to show that I am broad-minded. + </p> + <p> + And lastly, a plague, a special plague, a veritable murrain on Lola Brandt + for complicating the splendid singleness of my purpose. I don't know what + to think of myself. I have become a common conundrum—which provides + the lowest form of intellectual amusement. It is all her fault. + </p> + <p> + Listen. I set out to free a young man of brilliant promise, at his + mother's earnest entreaty, from an entanglement with an impossible lady, + and to bring him to the feet of the most charming girl in the world who is + dying of love for him. Could intentions be simpler or more honourable or + more praiseworthy? + </p> + <p> + I find myself, after two or three weeks, the lady's warm personal friend, + to a certain extent her champion bound by a quixotic oath to restore her + husband to her arms, and regarding my poor Dale with a feeling which is + neither more nor less than green-eyed jealousy. I am praying heaven to + grant his adoption by the Wymington committee, not because it will be the + first step of the ladder of his career, but because the work and + excitement of a Parliamentary election will prohibit overmuch lounging in + <i>my</i> chair in Lola Brandt's drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Is there any drug I wonder which can restore a eumoirous tone to the + system? + </p> + <p> + Of course, Dale came round to my chambers in the evening and talked about + Lola and himself and me until I sent him home to bed. He kept on repeating + at intervals that I was glorious. I grew tired at last of the eulogy, and, + adopting his vernacular, declared that I should be jolly glad to get out + of this rubbishy world. He protested. There was never such a world. It was + gorgeous. What was wrong with it, anyway? As I could not show him the + Commination Service, I picked imaginary flaws in the universe. I + complained of its amateurishness of design. But Dale, who loves fact, was + not drawn into a theological disputation. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, I had a deuce of a shock when I came into Lola's this + afternoon?” he cried irrelevantly, with a loud laugh. “I thought—it + was a damnable and idiotic thing to come into my head—but I couldn't + help thinking you had cut me out! I wanted to tell you. You must forgive + me for being such an ass. And I want to thank you for being so good to her + while I was away. She has been telling me. You like her, don't you? I knew + you would. No one can help it. Besides being other things, she's is such a + good sort, isn't she?” + </p> + <p> + I admitted her many excellencies, while he walked about the room. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” he cried, coming to a halt. “I've got a grand idea. My little + plan has succeeded so well with you that I've a good mind to try it on my + mother.” + </p> + <p> + “What on earth do you mean?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn't I take the bull by the horns and bring my mother and Lola + together?” + </p> + <p> + I gasped. “My dear boy,” said I. “Do you want to kill me outright? I can't + stand such shocks to the imagination.” + </p> + <p> + “But it would be grand!” he exclaimed, delighted. “Why shouldn't mother + take a fancy to Lola? You can imagine her roping her in for the + committee!” + </p> + <p> + I refused to imagine it for one instant, and I had the greatest difficulty + in the world to persuade him to renounce his maniacal project. I am going + to permit no further complications. + </p> + <p> + I have been busy for the past day or two setting my house in order. I + start to-morrow for Paris. All my little affairs are comfortably settled, + and I can set out on my little trip to Avernus via Paris and the habitat + of Captain Vauvenarde with a quiet conscience. I have allayed the anxiety + of my sisters, whispered mysterious encouragement to Maisie Ellerton, held + out hopes of her son's emancipation to Lady Kynnersley, played fairy + godmother to various poor and deserving persons, and brought myself into + an enviable condition of glowing philanthropy. + </p> + <p> + To my great relief the Wymington committee have adopted Dale as their + candidate at the by-election. He can scarcely contain himself for joy. He + is like a child who has been told that he shall be taken to the seaside. I + believe he lies awake all night thinking how he will make things hum. + </p> + <p> + The other side have chosen Wilberforce, who unsuccessfully contested the + Ferney division of Wiltshire at the last general election. He is old and + ugly. Dale is young and beautiful. I think Dale will get in. + </p> + <p> + I have said good-bye to Lola. The astonishing woman burst into tears and + kissed my hands and said something about my being the arbiter of her + destiny—a Gallic phrase which she must have picked up from Captain + Vauvenarde. Then she buried her face in the bristling neck of Adolphus, + the Chow dog, and declared him to be her last remaining consolation. Even + Anastasius Papadopoulos had ceased to visit her. I uttered words of + comfort. + </p> + <p> + “I have left you Dale at any rate.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled enigmatically through her tears. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not ungrateful. I don't despise the crumbs.” + </p> + <p> + Which remark, now that I come to think of it, was not flattering to my + young friend. + </p> + <p> + But what is the use of thinking of it? My fire is burning low. It is time + I ended this portion of my “Rule and Example of Eumoiriety,” which, I + fear, has not followed the philosophic line I originally intended. + </p> + <p> + The die is cast. My things are packed. Rogers, who likes his British beef + and comforts, is resigned to the prospect of Continental travel, and has + gone to bed hours ago. There is no more soda water in the siphon. I must + go to bed. + </p> + <p> + Paris to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + “Ay!” says Touchstone; “now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at + home I was in a better place.” + </p> + <p> + Now am I in Algiers; the more fool I; et cetera, et cetera. + </p> + <p> + It is true that from my bedroom window in the Albany I cannot see the moon + silvering the Mediterranean, or hear the soft swish of pepper-trees; it is + true that oranges and eucalyptus do not flourish in the Albany Court-yard + as they do in this hotel garden at Mustapha Superieur; it is true that the + blue African sky and sunshine are more agreeable than Piccadilly fogs; + but, after all, his own kennel is best for a dying dog, and his own + familiar surroundings best for his declining hours. Again, Touchstone had + not the faintest idea what he was going to do in the Forest of Arden, and + I was equally ignorant of what would befall when I landed at Algiers. He + was bound on a fool adventure, and so was I. He preferred the easy way of + home, and so do I. I have always loved Touchstone, but I have never + thoroughly understood him till now. + </p> + <p> + It rained persistently in Paris. It rained as I drove from the Gare du + Nord to my hotel. It rained all night. It rained all the day I spent there + and it rained as I drove from my hotel to the Gare de Lyon. A cheery + newspaper informed me that there were torrential rains at Marseilles. I + mentioned this to Rogers, who tried to console me by reminding me that we + were only staying at Marseilles for a few hours. + </p> + <p> + “That has nothing to do with it,” said I. “At Marseilles I always eat + bouillabaisse on the quay. Fancy eating bouillabaisse in the pouring + rain!” + </p> + <p> + As usual, Rogers could not execute the imaginative exercise I prescribed; + so he strapped my hold-all with an extra jerk. + </p> + <p> + Now, when homespun London is wet and muddy, no one minds very much. But + when silken Paris lies bedraggled with rain and mud, she is the forlornest + thing under the sky. She is a hollow-eyed pale city, the rouge is washed + from her cheeks, her hair hangs dank and dishevelled, in her aspect is + desolation, and moaning is in her voice. I have a Sultanesque feeling with + regard to Paris. So long as she is amusing and gay I love her. I adore her + mirth, her chatter, her charming ways. But when she has the toothache and + snivels, she bores me to death. I lose all interest in her. I want to clap + my hands for my slaves, in order to bid them bring me in something less + dismal in the way of fair cities. + </p> + <p> + I drove to the Rue Saint-Dominique and handed in my card and letter of + introduction at the <i>Ministere de la Guerre</i>. I was received by the + official in charge of the <i>Bureau des Renseignements</i> with bland + politeness tempered with suspicion that I might be taking a mental + photograph of the office furniture in order to betray its secret to a + foreign government. After many comings and goings of orderlies and + underlings, he told me very little in complicated and reluctant language. + Captain Vauvenarde had resigned his commission in the Chasseurs d'Afrique + two years ago. At the present moment the Bureau had no information to give + as to his domicile. + </p> + <p> + “Have you no suggestion, Monsieur, to offer?” I asked, “whereby I may + obtain this essential information concerning Captain Vauvenarde?” + </p> + <p> + “His old comrades in the regiment might know, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “And the regiment?” + </p> + <p> + He opened the <i>Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise</i>, just as I + might have done myself, and said: + </p> + <p> + “There are six regiments. One is at Blidah, another at Tlemcen, another at + Constantine, another at Tunis, another at Algiers, and another at + Mascara.” + </p> + <p> + “To which regiment, then, did Captain Vauvenarde belong?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + He referred to one of the dossiers that the orderlies had brought him. + </p> + <p> + “The 3rd, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “I should get information, then, from Tlemcen?” + </p> + <p> + “Evidently, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him and withdrew, to his obvious relief. Seekers after knowledge + are unpopular even in organisations so far removed from the Circumlocution + Office as the French <i>Ministere de la Guerre</i>. However, he had put me + on the trail of my man. + </p> + <p> + During my homeward drive through the rain I reflected. I might, of course, + write to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment at Tlemcen, and wait + for his reply. But even if he answered by return of post, I should have to + remain in Paris for nearly a week. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said I, wiping from my face half a teacupful of liquid mud which + had squirted in through the cab window—“that I'll never do. I'll + proceed at once to Algiers. If I can get no news of him there, I'll go to + Tlemcen myself. In all probability I shall learn that he is residing here + in Paris, a stone's throw from the Madeleine.” + </p> + <p> + So I started for Algiers. The next morning, before the sailing of the <i>Marechal + Bugeaud</i>, one of the quaint churns styled a steamship by the vanity of + the French Company which undertakes to convey respectable folk across the + Mediterranean, I ate my bouillabaisse below an awning on the sunny quay at + Marseilles. The torrential rains had ceased. I advised Rogers to take + equivalent sustenance, as no lunch is provided on day of sailing by the + Compagnie Generale Transatlantique. I caught sight of him in a dark corner + of the restaurant—he is too British to eat in the open air on the + terrace, or perhaps too modest to have his meal in my presence—struggling + grimly with a beefsteak, and, as he is a teetotaller, with an + unimaginable, horrific liquid which he poured out from a vessel vaguely + resembling a teapot. + </p> + <p> + My meal over, and having nearly an hour to spare, I paid my bill, rose and + turned the corner of the quay into the Cannebiere, thinking to have my + coffee at one of the cafes in that thoroughfare of which the natives say + that, if Paris had a Cannebiere, it would be a little Marseilles. I + suppose for the Marseillais there is a magic in the sonorous name; for, + after all, it is but a commonplace street of shops running from the quays + into the heart of the town. It is also deformed by tramcars. I strolled + leisurely up, thinking of the many swans that were geese, and Paradises + that were building-plots, and heroes that were dummies, and solidities + that were shadows, in short, enjoying a gentle post-prandial mood, when my + eyes suddenly fell on a scene which brought me down from such realities to + the realm of the fantastic. There, a few yards in front of me, at the + outer edge of the terrace of a cafe, clad in his eternal silk hat, frock + coat, and yellow gloves, sat Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos in earnest + conversation with a seedy stranger of repellent mien. The latter was + clean-shaven and had a broken nose, and wore a little round, soft felt + hat. The dwarf was facing me. As he caught sight of me a smile of welcome + overspread his Napoleonic features. He rose, awaited my approach, and, + bareheaded, made his usual sweeping bow, which he concluded by resting his + silk hat on the pit of his stomach. I lifted my hat politely and would + have passed on, but he stood in my path. I extended my hand. He took it + after the manner of a provincial mayor receiving royalty. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Couvrez-vous, Monsieur, je vous en prie</i>,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He covered his head. “Monsieur,” said he, “I beseech you to be seated, and + do me the honour of joining me in the coffee and excellent cognac of this + establishment.” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly,” said I, mindful of Lola's tale of the long knife which he + carried concealed about his person. + </p> + <p> + “Permit me to present my friend Monsieur Achille Saupiquet—Monsieur + de Gex, a great English statesman and a friend of that <i>gnadigsten Engel</i>, + Madame Lola Brandt.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Saupiquet and I saluted each other formally. I took a seat. + Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos moved a bundle of papers tied up with + pink ribbon from in front of me, and ordered coffee and cognac. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Saupiquet also knows Madame Brandt,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Bien sur</i>,” said Monsieur Saupiquet. “She owes me fifteen sous.” + </p> + <p> + Papadopoulos turned on his sharply. “Will you be silent!” + </p> + <p> + The other grumbled beneath his breath. + </p> + <p> + “I hope Madame is well,” said Papadopoulos. + </p> + <p> + I said that she appeared so, when last I had the pleasure of seeing her. + The dwarf turned to his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur has also done my cats the honour of attending a rehearsal. He + has seen Hephaestus, and his tears have dropped in sympathy over the + irreparable loss of my beautiful Santa Bianca.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope the talented survivors,” said I, “are enjoying their usual + health.” + </p> + <p> + “My daily bulletin from my pupil and assistant, Quast, contains excellent + reports. <i>Prosit</i>, Signore.” + </p> + <p> + It was only when I found myself at the table with the dwarf and his + broken-nosed friend that I collected my wits sufficiently to realise the + probable reason of his presence in Marseilles. The grotesque little + creature had actually kept his ridiculous word. He, too, had come south in + search of the lost Captain Vauvenarde. We were companions in the Fool + Adventure. There was something mediaeval in the combination; something + legendary. Put back the clock a few centuries and there we were, the + Knight and the Dwarf, riding together on our quest, while the Lady for + whose sake we were making idiots of ourselves was twiddling her fair + thumbs in her tower far beyond the seas. + </p> + <p> + Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos broke upon this pleasing fancy by + remarking again that Monsieur Saupiquet was a friend of Madame Brandt. + </p> + <p> + “He was with her at the time of her great bereavement.” + </p> + <p> + “Bereavement?” I asked forgetfully. + </p> + <p> + “Her horse Sultan.” + </p> + <p> + He whispered the words with solemn reverence. I must confess to being + tired of the horse Sultan and disinclined to treat his loss seriously. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Saupiquet,” said I, “doubtless offered her every consolation.” + </p> + <p> + “He used to travel with her and look after Sultan's well-being. He was her——” + </p> + <p> + “Her Master of the Horse,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely. You have the power of using the right word, Monsieur de Gex. + It is a great gift. My good friend Saupiquet is attached to a circus at + present stationed in Toulon. He came over, at my request, to see me—on + affairs of the deepest importance”—he waved the bundle of papers—“the + very deepest importance. <i>Nicht wahr</i>, Saupiquet?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Bien sur</i>,” murmured Saupiquet, who evidently did not count + loquacity among his vices. + </p> + <p> + I wondered whether these important affairs concerned the whereabouts of + Captain Vauvenarde; but the dwarf's air of mystery forbade my asking for + his confidence. Besides, what should a groom in a circus know of retired + Captains of Chasseurs? I said: + </p> + <p> + “You're a very busy man, Monsieur le Professeur.” + </p> + <p> + He tapped his domelike forehead. “I am never idle. I carry on here + gigantic combinations. I should have been a lawyer. I can spread nets that + no one sees, and then—pst! I draw the rope and the victim is in the + toils of Anastasius Papadopoulos. <i>Hast du nicht das bemerkt</i>, + Saupiquet?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Bien sur</i>,” said Saupiquet again. He seemed perfectly conversant + with the dwarf's polyglot jargon. + </p> + <p> + “To the temperament of the artist,” continued the modest Papadopoulos, “I + join the intellect of the man of affairs and the heart of a young poet. I + am always young; yet as you see me here I am thirty-seven years of age.” + </p> + <p> + He jumped from his chair and struck an attitude of the Apollo Belvedere. + </p> + <p> + “I should never have thought that you were of the same age as a bettered + person like myself,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “The secret of youth,” he rejoined, sitting down again, “is enthusiasm, + the worship of a woman, and intimate association with cats.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Saupiquet received this proposition without a gleam of interest + manifesting itself in his dull blue eyes. His broken nose gave his face a + singularly unintelligent expression. He poured out another glass of cognac + from the graduated carafe in front of him and sipped it slowly. Then he + gazed at me dully, almost for the first time, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous.” + </p> + <p> + “And I say that she doesn't!” cried the dwarf fiercely. “I send for him to + discuss matters of the deepest gravity, and he comes talking about his + fifteen sous. I can't get anything out of him, but his fifteen sous. And + the <i>carissima signora</i> doesn't owe it to him. She can't owe it to + him. <i>Voyons</i>, Saupiquet, if you don't renounce your miserable + pretensions you will drive me mad, you will make me burst into tears, you + will make me throw you out into the street, and hold you down until you + are run over by a tramcar. You will—you will”—he shook his + fist passionately as he sought for a climactic menace—“you will make + me spit in your eye.” + </p> + <p> + He dashed his fist down on the marble table so that the glasses jingled. + Saupiquet finished his cognac undisturbed. + </p> + <p> + “I say that Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous, and until that is paid, I + do no business.” + </p> + <p> + The little man grew white with exasperation, and his upper lip lifted like + an angry cat's, showing his teeth. I shrank from meeting Saupiquet's eye. + Hurriedly, I drew a providential handful of coppers from my pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Stop, Herr Professor,” said I, eager to prevent the shedding of tears, + blood, or saliva, “I have just remembered. Madame did mention to me an + unaquitted debt in the South, and begged me to settle it for her. I am + delighted to have the opportunity. Will you permit me to act as Madam's + banker?” + </p> + <p> + The dwarf at once grew suave and courteous. + </p> + <p> + “The word of <i>carissima signora</i> is the word of God,” said he. + </p> + <p> + I solemnly counted out the fifteen halfpence on the table and pushed them + over to Saupiquet, who swept them up and put them in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Now we can talk,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Make him give you a receipt!” cried Papadopoulos excitedly. “I know him! + He is capable of any treachery where money is concerned. He is capable of + re-demanding the sum from Madame Brandt. He is an ingrate. And she, + Monsieur le Membre du Parlement Anglais, has overwhelmed him with + benefits. Do you know what she did? She gave him the carcass of her + beloved Sultan to dispose of. And he sold it, Monsieur, and he got drunk + on the money.” + </p> + <p> + The mingled emotions of sorrow at the demise of Sultan, the royal + generosity of Madame Brandt, and the turpitude of his friend Saupiquet, + brought tears to the little man's eyes. Monsieur Saupiquet shrugged his + shoulders unconcernedly. + </p> + <p> + “A poor man has to get drunk when he can. It is only the rich who can get + drunk when they like.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at my watch and rose in a hurry. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I must take an unceremonious leave of you, Monsieur le + Professeur.” + </p> + <p> + “You must wait for the receipt,” cried the dwarf. + </p> + <p> + “Will you do me the honour of holding it for me until we meet again? Hi!” + The interpellation was addressed to a cabman a few yards away. “Your + conversation has made me neglect the flight of time. I shall only just + catch my boat.” + </p> + <p> + “Your boat?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to Algiers.” + </p> + <p> + “Where will you be staying, Monsieur? I ask in no spirit of vulgar + curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + I raised a protesting hand, and with a smile named my hotel. + </p> + <p> + “I arrived here from Algiers yesterday afternoon,” he said, “and I proceed + there again to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “I regret,” said I, “that you are not coming to-day, so that I could have + the pleasure of your company on the voyage.” + </p> + <p> + My polite formula seemed to delight Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos + enormously. He made a series of the most complicated bows, to the joy of + the waiters and the passers-by. I shook hands with him and with the stolid + Monsieur Saupiquet, and waving my hat more like an excited Montenegrin + than the most respectable of British valetudinarians, I drove off to the + Quai de la Joliette, where I found an anxious but dogged Rogers, in the + midst of a vociferating crowd, literally holding the bridge that gave + access to the <i>Marechal Bugeaud</i>. + </p> + <p> + “Thank Heaven, you've come, sir! You almost missed it. I couldn't have + held out another minute.” + </p> + <p> + I, too, was thankful. If I had missed the boat I should have had to wait + till the next day and crossed in the embarrassing and unrestful company of + Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. It is not that I dislike the little + man, or have the Briton's nervous shrinking from being seen in eccentric + society; but I wish to eliminate mediaevalism as far as possible from my + quest. In conjunction with this crazy-headed little trainer of cats it + would become too preposterous even for my light sardonic humour. I + resolved to dismiss him from my mind altogether. + </p> + <p> + Yet, in spite of my determination, and in spite of one of Monsieur + Lenotre's fascinating monographs on the French Revolution, on which I had + counted to beguile the tedium of the journey, I could not get Anastasius + Papadopoulos out of my head. He stayed with me the whole of a storm-tossed + night, and all the next morning. He has haunted my brain ever since. I see + him tossing his arms about in fury, while the broken-nosed Saupiquet makes + his monotonous claim for the payment of sevenpence halfpenny; I hear him + speak in broken whispers of the disastrous quadruped on whose skin and + hoofs Saupiquet got drunk. I see him strutting about and boasting of his + intellect. I see him taking leave of Lola Brandt, and trotting + magnificently out of the room bent on finding Captain Vauvenarde. He + haunts my slumbers. I hope to goodness he will not take to haunting this + delectable hotel. + </p> + <p> + I wonder, after all, whether there is any method in his madness—for + mad he is, as mad as can be. Why does he come backwards and forwards + between Algiers and Marseilles? What has Saupiquet to do with his quest? + What revelation was he about to make on the payment of his fifteen sous? + It is all so grotesque, so out of relation with ordinary life. I feel + inclined to go up to the retired Colonels and elderly maiden ladies, who + seem to form the majority of my fellow-guests, and pinch them and ask them + whether they are real, or, like Papadopoulos and Saupiquet, the gentler + creatures of a nightmare. + </p> + <p> + Well, I have written to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment of + Chasseurs at Tlemcen, which is away down by the Morocco frontier. I have + also written to Lola Brandt. I seem to miss her as much as any of the + friends I have left behind me in England. I cannot help the absurd fancy + that her rich vitality helps me along. I have not been feeling quite so + robust as I did when I saw her daily. And twinges are coming more + frequently. I don't think that rolling about in the Mediterranean on board + the <i>Marechal Bugeaud</i> is good for little pains inside. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + When I began this autobiographical sketch of the last few weeks of my + existence, I had conceived, as I have already said, the notion of making + it chiefly a guide to conduct for my young disciple, Dale Kynnersley. Not + only was it to explain to him clearly the motives which led to my taking + any particular line of action with regard to his affairs, and so enable me + to escape whatever blame he might, through misunderstanding, be disposed + to cast on me, but also to elevate his mind, stimulate his ambitions, and + improve his morals. It was to be a Manual of Eumoiriety. It was to be + sweetened with philosophic reflections and adorned with allusions to the + lives of the great masters of their destiny who have passed away. It was + to have been a pretty little work after the manner of Montaigne, with the + exception that it ran of its own accord into narrative form. But I am + afraid Lola Brandt has interposed herself between me and my design. She + had brought me down from the serene philosophic plane where I could think + and observe human happenings and analyse them and present them in their + true aspect to my young friend. She has set me down in the thick of events—and + not events such as the smiling philosopher is in the habit of dealing + with, but lunatic, fantastic occurrences with which no system of + philosophy invented by man is capable of grappling. I can just keep my + head, that is all, and note down what happens more or less day by day, so + that when the doings of dwarfs and captains, and horse-tamers and youthful + Members of Parliament concern me no more, Dale Kynnersley can have a bald + but veracious statement of fact. And as I have before mentioned, he loves + facts, just as a bear loves honey. + </p> + <p> + I passed a quiet day or two in my hotel garden, among the sweet-peas, and + the roses, and the geraniums. There were little shady summer-houses where + one could sit and dream, and watch the blue sky and the palms and the + feathery pepper trees drooping with their coral berries, and the golden + orange-trees and the wisteria and the great gorgeous splash of purple + bougainvillea above the Moorish arches of the hotel. There were mild + little walks in the eucalyptus woods behind, where one went through + acanthus and wild absinthe, and here and there as the path wound, the + great blue bay came into view, and far away the snow-capped peaks of the + Atlas. There were warmth and sunshine, and the unexciting prattle of the + retired Colonels and maiden ladies. There was a hotel library filled with + archaic fiction. I took out Ainsworth's “Tower of London,” and passed a + happy morning in the sun renewing the thrills of my childhood. I began to + forget the outer world in my enchanted garden, like a knight in the Forest + of Broceliande. + </p> + <p> + Then came the letter from Tlemcen. The Lieutenant-Colonel commanding the + 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs d'Afrique had received my honoured communication + but regretted to say that he, together with all the officers of the + regiment, had severed their connection with Captain Vauvenarde, and that + they were ignorant of his present address. + </p> + <p> + This was absurd. A man does not resign from his regiment and within a year + or two disappear like a ghost from the ken of every one of his brother + officers. I read the letter again. Did the severance of connection mean + the casting out of a black sheep from their midst? I came to the + conclusion that it did. They had washed their hands of Captain Vauvenarde, + and desired to hear nothing of him in the future. + </p> + <p> + So I awoke from my lethargy, and springing up sent not for my shield and + spear, but for an “Indicateur des Chemins de Fer.” I would go to Tlemcen + and get to the bottom of it. I searched the time-table and found two + trains, one starting from Algiers at nine-forty at night and getting into + Tlemcen at noon next day, and one leaving at six-fifty in the morning and + arriving at half-past ten at night. I groaned aloud. The dealing unto + oneself a happy life and portion did not include abominable train journeys + like these. I was trying to decide whether I should travel all night or + all day when the Arab chasseur of the hotel brought me a telegram. I + opened it. It ran: + </p> + <p> + “Starting for Algiers. Meet me.—LOLA.” + </p> + <p> + It was despatched that morning from Victoria Station. I gazed at it + stupidly. Why in the world was Lola Brandt coming to join me in Algiers? + If she had wanted to do her husband hunting on her own account, why had + she put me to the inconvenience of my journey? Her action could not have + been determined by my letter about Anastasius Papadopoulos, as a short + calculation proved that it could not have reached her. I wandered round + and round the garden paths vainly seeking for the motive. Was it escape + from Dale? Had she, womanlike, taken the step which she was so anxious to + avoid—and in order to avoid taking which all this bother had arisen—and + given the boy his dismissal? If so, why had she not gone to Paris or St. + Petersburg or Terra del Fuego? Why Algiers? Dale abandoned outright, the + necessity for finding her husband had disappeared. Perhaps she was coming + to request me, on that account, to give up the search. But why travel + across seas and continents when a telegram or a letter would have + sufficed? She was coming at any rate; and as she gave no date I presumed + that she would travel straight through and arrive in about forty-eight + hours. This reflection caused a gleam of sunshine to traverse my gloom. I + was not physically capable of performing the journey to Tlemcen and back + before her arrival. I could, therefore, dream among the roses of the + garden for another couple of days. And when she came, perhaps she would + like to go to Tlemcen herself and try the effect of her woman's + fascinations on the Lieutenant-Colonel and officers of the 3rd Regiment of + Chasseurs d'Afrique. + </p> + <p> + In any case, her sudden departure argued well for Dale's liberation. If + the rupture had occurred I was quite contented. That is what I had wished + to accomplish. It only remained now to return to London, while breath yet + stayed in my body, and lead him diplomatically to the feet of Maisie + Ellerton. Then I would have ended my eumoirous task, and my last happy + words would be a paternal benediction. But all the same, I had set forth + to find this confounded captain and did not want to be hindered. The + sportsman's instinct which, in my robust youth, had led me to crawl miles + on my belly over wet heather in order to get a shot at a stag, I found, + somewhat to my alarm, was urging me on this chase after Captain + Vauvenarde. He was my quarry. I resented interference. Deer-stalking then, + and man-stalking now, I wanted no petticoats in the party. I worked myself + up into an absurd state of irritability. Why was she coming to spoil the + sport? I had arranged to track her husband down, reason with him, work on + his feelings, telegraph for his wife, and in an affecting interview throw + them into each other's arms. Now, goodness knows what would happen. + Certainly not my beautifully conceived <i>coup de theatre</i>. + </p> + <p> + “And she has the impertinence,” I cried in my wrath, “to sign herself + 'Lola'! As if I ever called her, or could ever be in a position to call + her 'Lola'! I should like to know,” I exclaimed, hurling the “Indicateur + des Chemins de Fer” on to the seat of a summer-house, built after the + manner of a little Greek temple, “I should like to know what the deuce she + means by it!” + </p> + <p> + “Hallo! Hallo! What the devil's the matter?” cried a voice; and I found I + had disturbed from his slumbers an unnoticed Colonel of British Cavalry. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand pardons!” said I. “I thought I was alone, and gave vent to the + feelings of the moment.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Bunnion stretched himself and joined me. + </p> + <p> + “That's the worst of this place,” he said. “It's so liverish. One lolls + about and sleeps all day long, and one's liver gets like a Strasburg + goose's and plays Old Harry with one's temper. Why one should come here + when there are pheasants to be shot in England, I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither your liver nor your temper seem to be much affected, Colonel,” + said I, “for you've been violently awakened from a sweet sleep and are in + a most amiable frame of mind.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed, suggested exercise, the Briton's panacea for all ills, and + took me for a walk. When we returned at dusk, and after I had had tea + before the fire (for December evenings in Algiers are chilly) in one of + the pretty Moorish alcoves of the lounge, my good humour was restored. I + viewed our pursuit of Captain Vauvenarde in its right aspect—that of + a veritable Snark-Hunt of which I was the Bellman—and the name + “Lola” curled itself round my heart with the same grateful sensation of + comfort as the warm China tea. After all, it was only as Lola that I + thought of her. The name fitted her personality, which Brandt did not. Out + of “Brandt” I defy you to get any curvilinear suggestion. I reflected + dreamily that it would be pleasant to walk with her among the roses in the + sunshine and to drink tea with her in dusky Moorish alcoves. I also + thought, with an enjoyable spice of malice, of what the retired Colonels + and elderly maiden ladies would have to say about Lola when she arrived. + They should have a gorgeous time. + </p> + <p> + So light-hearted did I become that, the next evening, while I was dressing + for dinner, I did not frown when the chasseur brought me up the huge + trilingual visiting-card of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. + </p> + <p> + “Show the gentleman up,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Rogers handed me my black tie and began to gather together discarded + garments so as to make the room tidy for the visitor. It was a comfortable + bed-sitting-room, with the bed in an alcove and a tiny dressing-room + attached. A wood fire burned on the hearth on each side of which was an + armchair. Presently there came a knock at the door. Rogers opened it and + admitted Papadopoulos, who forthwith began to execute his usual manoeuvres + of salutation. Rogers stood staring and open-mouthed at the apparition. It + took all his professional training in imperturbability to enable him to + make a decent exit. This increased my good humour. I grasped the dwarf's + hand. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Professor, I am delighted to see you. Pray excuse my receiving + you in this unceremonious fashion, and sit down by the fire.” + </p> + <p> + I hastily completed my toilette by stuffing my watch, letter-case, loose + change and handkerchief into my pockets, and took a seat opposite him. + </p> + <p> + “It is I,” said he politely, “who must apologise for this untimely call. I + have wanted to pay my respects to you since I arrived in Algiers, but till + now I have had no opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me,” said I, “to disembarrass you of your hat.” + </p> + <p> + I took the high-crowned, flat-brimmed thing which he was nursing somewhat + nervously on his knees, and put it on the table. He murmured that I was “<i>Sehr + aimable</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “And the charming Monsieur Saupiquet, how is he?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + He drew out his gilt-embossed pocket-book, and from it extracted an + envelope. + </p> + <p> + “This,” said he, handing it to me, “is the receipt. I have to thank you + again for regulating the debt, as it has enabled me to transact with + Monsieur Saupiquet the business on which I summoned him from Toulon. He is + the most obstinate, pig-headed camel that ever lived, and I believe he has + returned to Toulon in the best of health. No, thank you,” he added, + refusing my offer of cigarettes, “I don't smoke. It disturbs the perfect + adjustment of my nerves, and so imperils my gigantic combinations. It is + also distasteful to my cats.” + </p> + <p> + “You must miss them greatly,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He sighed—then his face lit up with inspiration. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, signor! What would one not sacrifice for an idea, for duty, for + honour, for the happiness of those we love?” + </p> + <p> + “Those are sentiments, Monsieur Papadopoulos,” I remarked, “which do you + infinite credit.” + </p> + <p> + “And, therefore, I express them, sir,” he replied, “to show you what + manner of man I am.” He paused for a moment; then bending forward, his + hands on his little knees—he was sitting far back in the chair and + his legs were dangling like a child's—he regarded me intently. + </p> + <p> + “Would you be equally chivalrous for the sake of an idea?” + </p> + <p> + I replied that I hoped I should conduct myself <i>en galant homme</i> in + any circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “I knew it,” he cried. “My intuition is never wrong. An English statesman + is as fearless as Agamemnon, and as wise as Nestor. Have you your evening + free?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I replied wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Would you care to devote it to a perilous adventure? Not so perilous, for + I”—he thumped his chest—“will be there. But still <i>molto + gefahrlich</i>.” + </p> + <p> + His black eyes held mine in burning intensity. So as to hide a smile I lit + a cigarette. I know not what little imp in motley possessed me that + evening. He seemed to hit me over the head with his bladder, and counsel + me to play the fool like himself, for once in my life before I died. I + could almost hear him speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Surely a crazy dwarf out of a nightmare is more entertaining company than + decayed Colonels of British Cavalry.” + </p> + <p> + I blew two or three puffs of my cigarette, and met my guest's eager gaze. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be happy to put myself at your disposal,” said I. “May I ask, + without indiscretion—?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he interrupted, “don't ask. Secrecy is part of the gigantic + combination. <i>En galant homme</i>, I require of you—confidence.” + </p> + <p> + With an irresistible touch of mockery I said: “Professor Papadopoulos, I + will be happy to follow you blindfold to the lair of whatever + fire-breathing dragon you may want me to help you destroy.” + </p> + <p> + He rose and grasped his hat and made me a profound bow. + </p> + <p> + “You will not find me wanting in courage, Monsieur. There is another small + favour I would ask of you. Will you bring some of your visiting-cards?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure,” said I. + </p> + <p> + At that moment the gong clanged loudly through the hotel. + </p> + <p> + “It is your dinner-hour,” said the dwarf. “I depart. Our rendezvous—” + </p> + <p> + “Let us have no rendezvous, my dear Professor,” I interposed. “What more + simple than that you should do me the pleasure of dining with me here? We + can thus fortify ourselves with food and drink for our adventure, and we + can start on it comfortably together whenever it seems good to you.” + </p> + <p> + The little man put his head on one side and looked at me in an odd way. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean,” he asked in a softened voice, “that you ask me to dine with + you in the midst of your aristocratic compatriots?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, evidently,” said I, baffled. “It's only an ordinary table d'hote + dinner.” + </p> + <p> + To my astonishment, tears actually spurted out of the eyes of the amazing + little creature. He took my hand and before I knew what he was going to do + with it he had touched it with his lips. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Professor!” I cried in dismay. + </p> + <p> + He put up a pudgy hand, and said with great dignity: + </p> + <p> + “I cannot dine with you, Monsieur de Gex. But I thank you from my heart + for your generous kindness. I shall never forget it to my dying day.” + </p> + <p> + “But——” + </p> + <p> + He would listen to no protests. “If you will do me the honour of coming at + nine o'clock to the Cafe de Bordeaux, at the corner of the Place du + Gouvernement, I shall be there. <i>Auf wiedersehen</i>, Monsieur, and a + thousand thanks. I beg you as a favour not to accompany me. I couldn't + bear it.” + </p> + <p> + And, drawing a great white handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his + eyes, blew his nose, and disappeared like a flash through the door which I + held open for him. + </p> + <p> + I went down to dinner in a chastened mood. The little man had not shown me + before the pathetic side of the freak's life. By asking him to dinner as + if he were normal I had earned his eternal gratitude. And yet, with a + smile, which I trust the Recording Angel when he makes up my final + balance-sheet of good and evil will not ascribe to an unfeeling heart, I + could not help formulating the hope that his gratitude would not be shown + by presents of China fowls sitting on eggs, Tyrolese chalets and bottles + with ladders and little men inside them. I did not feel within me the wide + charity of Lola Brandt; and I could not repress a smile, as I ate my + solitary meal, at the perils of the adventure to which I was invited. I + had no doubt that it bore the same relation to danger as Monsieur + Saupiquet's sevenpence-halfpenny bore to a serious debt. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Bunnion, a genial little red-faced man, with bulgy eyes and a + moustache too big for his body, who sat, also solitary, at the next table + to mine, suddenly began to utter words which I discovered were addressed + to me. + </p> + <p> + “Most amazing thing happened to me as I was coming down to dinner. Just + got out of the corridor to the foot of the stairs, when down rushed + something about three foot nothing in a devil of a top-hat and butted me + full in the pit of the stomach, and bounded off like a football. When I + picked it up I found it was a man—give you my word—it was a + man. About so high. Gave me quite a turn.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said I, with a smile, “was my friend Professor Anastasius + Papadopoulos.” + </p> + <p> + “A friend of yours?” + </p> + <p> + “He had just been calling on me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I wish you'd entreat him not to go downstairs like a six-inch shell. + I'll have a bruise to-morrow where the crown of his hat caught me as big + as a soup-plate.” + </p> + <p> + I offered the cheerily indignant warrior apologies for my friend's + parabolic method of descent, and suggested Elliman's Embrocation. + </p> + <p> + “The most extraordinary part of it,” he interrupted, “was that when I + picked him up he was weeping like anything. What was he crying about?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a sensitive creature,” said I, “and he doesn't come upon the pit of + the stomach of a Colonel of British Cavalry every day in the week.” + </p> + <p> + He sniffed uncertainly at the remark for a second or two and then broke + into a laugh and asked me to play bridge after dinner. On the two + preceding evenings he and I had attempted to cheer, in this manner, the + desolation of a couple of the elderly maiden ladies. But I may say, + parenthetically, that as he played bridge as if he were leading a cavalry + charge according to a text-book on tactics, and as I play card games in a + soft, mental twilight, and as the two ladies were very keen bridge players + indeed, I had great doubts as to the success of our attempts. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry,” said I, “but I'm going down into the town to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Theatre? If so, I'll go with you.” + </p> + <p> + The gallant gentleman was always at a loose end. Unless he could persuade + another human being to do something with him—no matter what—he + would joyfully have played cat's cradle with me by the hour—he sat + in awful boredom meditating on his liver. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to the theatre,” I said, “and I wish I could ask you to + accompany me on my adventure.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel raised his eyebrows. I laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to twang guitars under balconies.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel reddened and swore he had never thought of such a thing. He + was a perjured villain; but I did not tell him so. + </p> + <p> + “In what my adventure will consist I can't say,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “If you're going to fool about Algiers at night you'd better carry a + revolver.” + </p> + <p> + I told him I did not possess such deadly weapons. He offered to lend me + one. The two Misses Bostock from South Shields, who sat at the table + within earshot and had been following our conversation, manifested signs + of excited interest. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be quite protected,” said I, “by the dynamic qualities of your + acquaintance, Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos, with whom I have promised + to spend the evening.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better have the revolver,” said the Colonel. And so bent was he + on the point, that after dinner he came to me in the lounge and laid a + loaded six-shooter beside my coffee-cup. The younger Miss Bostock grew + pale. It looked an ugly, cumbrous, devastating weapon. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear Colonel,” I protested, “it's against the law to carry + fire-arms.” + </p> + <p> + “Law—what law?” + </p> + <p> + “Why the law of France,” said I. + </p> + <p> + This staggered him. The fact of there being decent laws in foreign parts + has staggered many an honest Briton. He counselled a damnation of the law, + and finally, in order to humour him, I allowed him to thrust the + uncomfortable thing into my hip-pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel,” said I, when I took leave of him an hour later, “I have armed + myself out of pure altruism. I shan't be able to sit down in peace and + comfort for the rest of the evening. Should I accidentally do so, my blood + will be on your head.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + The tram that passes the hotel gates took me into the town and dropped me + at the Place du Gouvernement. With its strange fusion of East and West, + its great white-domed mosque flanked by the tall minaret contrasting with + its formal French colonnaded facades, its groupings of majestic + white-robed forms and commonplace figures in caps and hard felt hats; the + mystery of its palm trees, and the crudity of its flaring electric lights, + it gave an impression of unreality, of a modern contractor's idea of + Fairyland, where anything grotesque might assume an air of normality. The + moon shone full in the heavens, and as I crossed the Place I saw the + equestrian statue of the Duke of Orleans silhouetted against the mosque. + The port, to the east, was quiet at this hour, and the shipping lay + dreamily in the moonlight. Far away one could see the dim outlines of the + Kabyle Mountains, and the vague melting of sea and sky into a near + horizon. The undefinable smell of the East was in the air. + </p> + <p> + The Cafe de Bordeaux, which forms an angle of the Place, blazed in front + of me. A few hardy souls, a Zouave or two, an Arab, a bored Englishman and + his wife, and some French inhabitants were sitting outside in the + chilliness. I entered. The cafe was filled with a nondescript crowd, and + the rattle of dominoes rose above the hum of talk. In a corner near the + door I discovered the top of a silk hat projecting above a widely opened + newspaper grasped by two pudgy hands, and I recognised the Professor. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said he, when I had taken a seat at his table, “if the unknown + terrors which you are going to confront dismay you, I beg that you will + not consider yourself bound to me.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Professor,” I replied, “a brave man tastes of death but once.” + </p> + <p> + He was much delighted at the sentiment, which he took to be original. + </p> + <p> + “I shall quote it,” said he, “whenever my honour or my courage is called + into question. It is not often that a man has the temerity to do so. Can I + have the honour of offering you a whisky and soda?” + </p> + <p> + “Have we time?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “We have time,” he said, solemnly consulting his watch. “Things will + ripen.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said I, “I shall have much pleasure in drinking to their + maturity.” + </p> + <p> + While we were drinking our whisky and soda he talked volubly of many + things—his travels, his cats, his own incredible importance in the + cosmos. And as he sat there vapouring about the pathetically insignificant + he looked more like Napoleon III than ever. His eyes had the same mournful + depths, his features the same stamp of fatality. Each man has his gigantic + combinations—perhaps equally important in the eyes of the High Gods. + I was filled with an immense pity for Napoleon III. + </p> + <p> + Of the object of the adventure he said nothing. As secrecy seemed to be a + vital element in his fifteen-cent scheme, I showed no embarrassing + curiosity. Indeed, I felt but little, though I was certain that the + adventure was connected with the world-cracking revelations of Monsieur + Saupiquet, and was undertaken in the interest of his beloved lady, Lola + Brandt. But it was like playing at pirates with a child, and my pity for + Napoleon gave place to my pity for my valiant but childish little friend. + </p> + <p> + At last he looked again at his watch. + </p> + <p> + “The hour his struck. Let us proceed.” + </p> + <p> + Instinctively I summoned the waiter, and drew a coin from my pocket; and + when the grown-up person and the small boy hobnob together the former + pays. But Anastasius, with a swift look of protest, anticipated my + intention. I was his guest for the evening. I yielded apologetically, the + score was paid, and we went forth into the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + He led me across the Place du Gouvernement and struck straight up the hill + past the Cathedral, and, turning, plunged into a network of narrow + streets, where the poor of all races lived together in amity and evil + odours. Shops chiefly occupied the ground floors; some were the ordinary + humble shops of Europeans; others were caves lit by a smoky lamp, where + Arabs lounged and smoked around the tailors or cobblers squatting at their + work; others were Jewish, with Hebrew inscriptions. There were dark Arab + cafes, noisy Italian wine-shops, butchers' stalls; children of all ages + played and screamed about the precipitous cobble-paved streets; and the + shrill cries of Jewish women, sitting at their doors, rose in rebuke of + husband or offspring. Not many lights appeared through the shuttered + windows of the dark, high houses. Overhead, between two facades, one saw a + strip of paleness which one knew was the moonlit sky. Conversation with my + companion being difficult—the top of his silk hat just reached my + elbow—I strode along in silence, Anastasius trotting by my side. + Many jeers and jests were flung at us as we passed, whereat he scowled + terribly; but no one molested us. I am inclined to think that Anastasius + attributed this to fear of his fierce demeanour. If so, he was happy, as + were the simple souls who flouted; and this reflection kept my mind + serene. + </p> + <p> + Presently we turned into a wide and less poverty-stricken street, which I + felt sure we could have reached by a less tortuous and malodorous path. A + few yards down we came to a dark <i>porte cochere</i>. The dwarf halted, + crossed, so as to read the number by the gas lamp, and joining me, said: + </p> + <p> + “It is here. Have you your visiting-cards ready?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. We proceeded down the dark entry till we came to a slovenly, + ill-kept glass box lit by a small gas jet, whence emerged a slovenly, + ill-kept man. This was the concierge. Anastasius addressed a remark to him + which I did not catch. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Au fond de la cour, troisieme a gauche</i>,” said the concierge. + </p> + <p> + As yet there seemed to be nothing peculiarly perilous about the adventure. + We crossed the cobble-paved courtyard and mounted an evil-smelling stone + staircase, blackened here and there by the occasional gas jets. On the + third landing we halted. Anastasius put up his hand and gripped mine. + </p> + <p> + “Two strong men together,” said he, “need fear nothing.” + </p> + <p> + I confess my only fear was lest the confounded revolver which swung + insecurely in my hip-pocket might go off of its own accord. I did not + mention this to my companion. He raised his hat, wiped his brow, and rang + the bell. + </p> + <p> + The door opened about six inches, and a man's dark-moustachioed face + appeared. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Vous desirez, Messieurs</i>?” + </p> + <p> + As I had not the remotest idea what we desired, I let Anastasius be + spokesman. + </p> + <p> + “Here is an English milord,” said Anastasius boldly, “who would like to be + admitted for the evening to the privileges of the Club.” + </p> + <p> + “Enter, gentlemen,” said the man, who appeared to be the porter. + </p> + <p> + We found ourselves in a small vestibule. In front of us was a large door, + on the right a small one, both closed. At a table by the large door sat a + dirty, out-of-elbows raven of a man reading a newspaper. The latter looked + up and addressed me. + </p> + <p> + “You wish to enter the Club, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + I had no particular longing to do so, but I politely answered that such + was my desire. + </p> + <p> + “If you will give your visiting-card, I will submit it to the + Secretariat.” + </p> + <p> + I produced my card; Anastasius thrust a pencil into my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Write my name on it, too.” + </p> + <p> + I obeyed. The raven sent the porter with the card into the room on the + right, and resumed the perusal of his soiled newspaper. I looked at + Anastasius. The little man was quivering with excitement. The porter + returned after a few minutes with a couple of pink oval cards which he + handed to each of us. I glanced at mine. On it was inscribed: <i>Cercle + Africain d'Alger. Carte de Member Honoraire. Une soiree</i>. And then + there was a line for the honorary member's signature. The raven man dipped + a pen in the ink-pot in front of him and handed it to me. + </p> + <p> + “Will you sign, Messieurs?” + </p> + <p> + We executed this formality; he retained the cards, and opening the great + door, said: + </p> + <p> + “<i>Entrez, Messieurs</i>!” + </p> + <p> + The door closed behind us. It was simply a <i>tripot</i>, or gambling-den. + And all this solemn farce of Secretariats and <i>cartes d'entree</i> to + obtain admission! It is curious how the bureaucratic instinct is ingrained + in the French character. + </p> + <p> + It was a large, ill-ventilated room, blue with cigarette and cigar smoke. + Some thirty men were sitting or standing around a baccarat table in the + centre, and two or three groups hung around <i>ecarte</i> tables in the + corners. A personage who looked like a slightly more prosperous brother of + the raven outside and wore a dinner-jacket, promenaded the room with the + air of one in authority. He scrutinised us carefully from a distance; then + advanced and greeted us politely. + </p> + <p> + “You have chosen an excellent evening,” said he. “There are a great many + people, and the banks are large.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed and passed on. A dingy waiter took our hats and coats and hung + them up. Anastasius plucked me by the sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't mind staking a little for the sake of appearances, I shall + be grateful.” + </p> + <p> + I whispered: “Can you tell me now, my dear Professor, for what reason you + have brought me to this gaming-hell?” + </p> + <p> + He looked up at me out of his mournful eyes and murmured, “<i>Patienza, + lieber Herr</i>.” Then spying a vacant place behind the chairs at the + baccarat table, he darted thither, and I followed in his wake. There must + have been about a couple of hundred louis in the bank, which was held by a + dissipated, middle-aged man who, having once been handsome in a fleshy + way, had run to fat. His black hair, cropped short, stood up like a + shoebrush, and when he leaned back in his chair a roll of flesh rose above + his collar. I disliked the fellow for his unhealthiness, and for the hard + mockery in his puffy eyes. The company seemed fairly homogeneous in its + raffishness, though here and there appeared a thin, aristocratic face, + with grey moustache and pointed beard, and the homely anxious visage of a + small tradesman. But in bulk it looked an ugly, seedy crowd, with unwashed + bodies and unclean souls. I noticed an Italian or two, and a villainous + Englishman with a face like that of a dilapidated horse. A glance at the + table plastered with silver and gold showed me that they were playing with + a five-franc minimum. + </p> + <p> + Anastasius drew a handful of louis from his pocket and staked one. I + staked a five-franc piece. The cards were dealt, the banker exposed a + nine, the highest number, and the croupier's flat spoon swept the table. A + murmur arose. The banker was having the luck of Satan. + </p> + <p> + “He always protects me, the good fellow,” laughed the banker, who had + overheard the remark. + </p> + <p> + Again we staked, again the hands were dealt. Our tableau or end of the + table won, the other lost. The croupier threw the coins in payment. I let + my double stake lie, and so did Anastasius. At the next coup we lost + again. The banker stuffed his winnings into his pocket and declared a <i>suite</i>. + The bank was put up at auction, and was eventually knocked down to the + same personage for fifty louis. The horse-headed Englishman cried “<i>banco</i>,” + which means that he would play the banker for the whole amount. The hands + were dealt, the Englishman lost, and the game started afresh with a + hundred louis in the bank. The proceedings began to bore me. Even if my + experience of life had not suggested that scrupulous fairness and honour + were not the guiding principles of such an assemblage, I should have taken + little interest in the game. I am a great believer in the wholesomeness of + compounding for sins you are inclined to by damning those you have no mind + to. It aids the nice balance of life. And gambling is one of the sins I + delight to damn. The rapid getting of money has never appealed to me, who + have always had sufficient for my moderately epicurean needs, and least of + all did it appeal to me now when I was on the brink of my journey to the + land where French gold and bank notes were not in currency. I repeat, + therefore, that I was bored. + </p> + <p> + “If the perils of the adventure don't begin soon, my dear Professor,” I + whispered, “I shall go to sleep standing.” + </p> + <p> + Again he asked for patience and staked a hundred-franc note. At that + moment the man sitting at the table in front of him rose, and the dwarf + slipped swiftly into his seat. He won his hundred francs and made the same + stake again. It was obvious that the little man did not damn gambling. It + was a sin to which he appeared peculiarly inclined. The true inwardness of + the perilous adventure began to dawn on me. He had come here to make the + money wherewith he could further his gigantic combinations. All this + mystery was part of his childish cunning. I hardly knew whether to box the + little creature's ears, to box my own, or to laugh. I compromised with a + smile on the last alternative, and baccarat being a dreary game to watch, + I strolled off to the nearest <i>ecarte</i> table, and, to justify my + presence in the room, backed one of the players. + </p> + <p> + Presently my attention was called to the baccarat table by a noise as of + some dispute, and turning, I saw the gentleman in the dinner-jacket + hurrying to what appeared to be the storm centre, the place where + Anastasius was sitting. Suspecting some minor peril, I left the <i>ecarte</i> + players, and joined the gentleman in the dinner-jacket. It seemed that the + hand, which is played in rotation by those seated at each tableau or + half-table, had come round for the first time to Anastasius, and objection + had been taken to his playing it, on the score of his physical appearance. + The dwarf was protesting vehemently. He had played baccarat in all the + clubs of Europe, and had never received such treatment. It was infamous, + it was insulting. The malcontents of the punt paid little heed to his + remonstrances. They resented the entrusting of their fortunes to one whose + chin barely rose above the level of the table. The banker lit a cigarette + and sat back in his chair with a smile of mockery. His attitude brought up + the superfluous flesh about his chin and the roll of fat at the back of + his neck. With his moustache <i>en croc</i>, and his shoebrush hair, I + have rarely beheld a more sensual-looking desperado. + </p> + <p> + “But gentlemen,” said he, “I see no objection whatever to Monsieur playing + the hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” retorted a voice, “since it would be to your advantage.” + </p> + <p> + The raven in the dinner-jacket commanded silence. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, I decide that, according to the rules of the game, Monsieur is + entitled to play the hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” exclaimed one or two of my friend's supporters. + </p> + <p> + “<i>C'est idiot</i>!” growled the malcontents. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Messieurs, faites vos jeux</i>!” cried the croupier. + </p> + <p> + The stakes were laid, the banker looked around, estimating the comparative + values of the two tableaux. Anastasius had backed his hand with a pile of + louis. To encourage him, and to conciliate the hostile punt, I threw down + a hundred-franc note. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Les jeux sont faits? Rien ne va plus</i>.” + </p> + <p> + The banker dealt, two cards to each tableau, two to himself. Anastasius, + trembling with nervous excitement, stretched out a palsied little fist + towards the cards. He drew them towards him, face downwards, peeped at + them in the most approved manner, and in a husky voice called for an extra + card. + </p> + <p> + The card dealt face upwards was a five. The banker turned up his own + cards, a two and a four, making a point of six. Naturally he stood, + Anastasius did nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Show your cards—show your cards!” cried several voices. + </p> + <p> + He turned over the two cards originally dealt to him. They were a king and + a nine, making the natural nine, the highest point, and he had actually + asked for another card. It was the unforgivable sin. The five that had + been dealt to him brought his point to four. There was a roar of + indignation. Men with violent faces rose and cursed him, and shook their + fists at him. Others clamoured that the coup was ineffective. They were + not going to be at the mercy of an idiot who knew nothing of the game. The + hand must be dealt over again. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Jamais de la vie</i>!” shouted the banker. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Le coup est bon</i>!” cried the raven in authority, and the croupier's + spoon hovered over the tableau. But the horse-headed Englishman clutched + the two louis he had staked. He was damned, and a great many other things, + if he would lose his money that way. The raven in the dinner-jacket darted + round, and bending over him, caught him by the wrist. Two or three others + grabbed their stakes, and swore they would not pay. The banker rose and + went to the rescue of his gains. There was screaming and shouting and + struggling and riot indescribable. Those round about us went on cursing + Anastasius, who sat quite still, with quivering lips, as helpless as a + rabbit. The raven tore his way through the throng around the Englishman + and came up to me excited and dishevelled. + </p> + <p> + “It is all your fault, Monsieur,” he shrieked, “for introducing into the + club a half-witted creature like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's your fault,” cried a low-browed, ugly fellow looking like a + butcher in uneasy circumstances who stood next to me. Suddenly the + avalanche of indignation fell upon my head. Angry, ugly men crowded round + me and began to curse me instead of the dwarf. Cries arose. The adventure + began, indeed, to grow idiotically perilous. I had never been thrown out + of doors in my life. I objected strongly to the idea. It might possibly + hurt my body, and would certainly offend my dignity. I felt that I could + not make my exit through the portals of life with the urbanity on which I + had counted, if, as a preparatory step, I had been thrown out of a + gambling-hell. There were only two things to be done. Either I must whip + out my ridiculous revolver and do some free shooting, or I must make an + appeal to the lower feelings of the assembly. I chose the latter + alternative. With a sudden movement I slipped through the angry and + gesticulating crowd, and leaped on a chair by one of the deserted <i>ecarte</i> + tables. Then I raised a commanding arm, and, in my best election-meeting + voice, I cried: + </p> + <p> + “<i>Messieurs</i>!” + </p> + <p> + The unexpectedness of the manoeuvre caused instant silence. + </p> + <p> + “As my friend and myself,” I said, “are the cause of this unpleasant + confusion, I shall be most happy to pay the banker the losses of the + tableau.” + </p> + <p> + And I drew out and brandished my pocket-book, in which, by a special grace + of Providence, there happened to be a considerable sum of money. + </p> + <p> + Murmurs of approbation arose. Then the Englishman sang out: + </p> + <p> + “But what about the money we would have won, if that little fool had + played the game properly?” + </p> + <p> + The remark was received with cheers. + </p> + <p> + “That amount, too,” said I, “I shall be happy to disburse.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing more to be said, as everybody, banker and punt, were + satisfied. The raven in the dinner-jacket came up and informed me that my + proposal solved the difficulty. I besought him to make out the bill for my + little entertainment as quickly as possible. Then I dismounted from my + chair and beckoned to the dwarf, still sitting white and piteous, to join + me. He obeyed like a frightened child who had been naughty. All his + swagger and braggadocio were gone. His bosom heaved with suppressed sobs. + He sat down on the chair I had vacated and buried his face on the <i>ecarte</i> + table. We remained thus aloof from the crowd who were intent on the + calculation at the baccarat table. At last the raven in the dinner-jacket + arrived with a note of the amount. It was two thousand three hundred + francs. I gave him the notes, and, taking Anastasius by the arm, led him + to the door, where the waiter stood with our hats and coats. Before we + could reach it, however, the banker, who had risen from his seat, crossed + the room and addressed me. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said he, with an air of high-bred courtesy, “I infinitely + regret this unpleasant affair and I thank you for your perfect + magnanimity.” + </p> + <p> + I did not suggest that with equal magnanimity he might refund the + forty-six pounds that had found its way from my pocket to his, but I bowed + with stiff politeness, and made my exit with as much dignity as the + attachment to my heels of the crestfallen Anastasius would permit. + </p> + <p> + Outside I constituted myself the guide, and took the first turning + downhill, knowing that it would lead to the civilised centre of the town. + The dwarf's roundabout route was characteristic of his tortuous mind. We + walked along for some time without saying anything. I could not find it in + my heart to reproach the little man for the expensiveness (nearly a + hundred pounds) of his perilous adventure, and he seemed too dazed with + shame and humiliation to speak. At last, when we reached, as I + anticipated, the Square de la Republique, I patted him on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up, my dear Professor,” said I. “We both are acquainted with nobler + things than the ins and outs of gaming-hells.” + </p> + <p> + He reeled to a bench under the palm trees, and bursting into tears, gave + vent to his misery in the most incoherent language ever uttered by man. I + sat beside him and vainly attempted consolation. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, how mad I am! Ah, how contemptible! I dare not face my beautiful cats + again. I dare not see the light of the sun. I have betrayed my trust. + Accursed be the cards. I, who had my gigantic combination. It is all gone. + Beautiful lady, forgive me. Generous-hearted friend, forgive me. I am the + most miserable of God's creatures.” + </p> + <p> + “It is an accident that might happen to any one,” I said gently. “You were + nervous. You looked at the cards, you mistook the nine for a ten, in which + case you were right to call for another card.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not that,” he wailed. “It is the spoiling of my combination, on + which I have wasted sleepless nights. A curse on my mad folly. Do you know + who the banker was?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “He was Captain Vauvenarde, the husband of Madame Brandt.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + You could have knocked me down with a feather. It is a trite metaphor, I + know; but it is none the less excellent. I repeat, therefore, unblushingly—you + could have knocked me down with a feather. I gasped. The little man wiped + his eyes. He was the tearfullest adult I have ever met, and I once knew an + Italian <i>prima donna</i> with a temperament. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Vauvenarde? The man with the shoebrush hair and the rolls of fat + at the back of his neck? Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + The dwarf nodded. “I set out from England to find him. I swore to the <i>carissima + signora</i> that I would do so. I have done it,” he added, with a faint + return of his self-confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm damned!” said I, in my native tongue. + </p> + <p> + I don't often use strong language; but the occasion warranted it. I was + flabbergasted, bewildered, out-raged, humiliated, delighted, incredulous, + and generally turned topsy-turvy. In conversation one has no time for so + minute an analysis of one's feelings. I therefore summed them up in the + only word. Captain Vauvenarde! The wild goose of my absurd chase! Found by + this Flibbertigibbet of a fellow, while I, Simon de Gex, erstwhile M.P., + was fooling about War Offices and regiments! It was grotesque. It was + monstrous. It ought not to have been allowed. And yet it saved me a vast + amount of trouble. + </p> + <p> + “I'm damned!” said I. + </p> + <p> + Anastasius had just enough English to understand. I suppose, such is + mortal unregeneracy, that it is the most widely understood word in the + universe. + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said he, “am eternally beaten. I am trampled under foot and shall + never be able to hold up my head again.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon he renewed his lamentations. For some time I listened patiently, + and from his disconnected remarks I gathered that he had gone to the + Cercle Africain in view of his gigantic combinations, but that the demon + of gambling taking possession of him had almost driven them from his mind. + Eventually he had lost control of his nerves, a cloud had spread over his + brain, and he had committed the unspeakable blunder which led to disaster. + </p> + <p> + “To think that I should have tracked him down—for this!” he + exclaimed tragically. + </p> + <p> + “What beats me,” I cried, “is how the deuce you managed to track him down. + Your magnificent intellect, I suppose”—I spoke gently and not in + open sarcasm—“enabled you to get on the trail.” + </p> + <p> + He brightened at the compliment. “Yes, that was it. Listen. I came to + Algiers, the last place he was heard of. I go to the cafes. I listen like + a detective to conversation. I creep behind soldiers talking. I find out + nothing. I ask at the shops. They think I am crazy, but Anastasius + Papadopoulos has a brain larger than theirs. I go to my old friend the + secretary of the theatre, where I have exhibited the marvellous + performance of my cats. I say to him, 'When have you a date for me?' He + says, 'Next year.' I make a note of it. We talk. He knows all Algiers. I + say to him, 'What has become of Captain Vauvenarde of the Chasseurs + d'Afrique?' I say it carelessly as if the Captain were an old friend of + mine. The secretary laughs. 'Haven't you heard? The Captain was chased + from the regiment——'” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce he was!” I interjected. + </p> + <p> + “On account of something,” said Anastasius. “The secretary could not tell + what. Perhaps he cheated at cards. The officers said so. + </p> + <p> + “'Where is he now?' I ask. 'Why, in Algiers. He is the most famous gambler + in the town. He is every night at the Cercle Africain, and some people + believe that it belongs to him.' My friend the secretary asks me why I am + so anxious to discover Captain Vauvenarde. I do not betray my secret. When + I do not wish to talk I close my lips, and they are sealed like the tomb. + I am the model of discretion. You, Monsieur, with the high-bred delicacy + of the English statesman, have not questioned me about my combination. I + appreciate it. But, if you had, though it broke my heart, I should not + have answered.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not going to pry into your schemes,” I said, “but there are one or + two things I must understand. How do you know the banker was Captain + Vauvenarde?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw him several times in Marseilles with the <i>carissima signora</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how was it he did not recognise you to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “I was then but an acquaintance of Madame; not her intimate friend, + counsellor, champion, as I am now. I did not have the honour of being + presented to Captain Vauvenarde. I went to-night to make sure of my man, + to play the first card in my gigantic combination—but, alas! But + no!” He rose and thumped his little chest. “I feel my courage coming back. + My will is stiffening into iron. When the <i>carissima signora</i> arrives + in Algiers she will find she has a champion!” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know she is coming to Algiers?” I asked startled. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I learned that Captain Vauvenarde was here,” he replied + proudly, “I sent her a telegram. 'Husband found; come at once.' I know she + is coming, for she has not answered.” + </p> + <p> + An idea occurred to me. “Did you sign your name and address on the + telegram?” + </p> + <p> + He approached me confidentially as I sat, and wagged a cunning finger. + </p> + <p> + “In matters of life and death, never give your name and address.” + </p> + <p> + As Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos was himself again, and as I began to + sneeze—for the night was chilly—I rose and suggested that we + might adjourn this conference till the morrow. He acquiesced, saying that + all was not lost and that he still had time to mature his combinations. We + crossed the road, and I hailed a cab standing by the Cafe d'Alger. I + offered Anastasius to drive him to his hotel, but he declined politely. We + shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said he, “I have to make my heartfelt apologies for having + caused you so painful, so useless, and so expensive an evening. As for the + last aspect I will repay you.” + </p> + <p> + “You will do no such thing, Professor,” said I. “My evening has, on the + contrary, been particularly useful and instructive. I wouldn't have missed + it for the world.” + </p> + <p> + And I drove off homewards, glad to be in my own company. + </p> + <p> + Here was an imbroglio! The missing husband found and, like most missing + husbands, found to be entirely undesirable. And Lola, obviously imagining + her summons to be from me, was at that moment speeding hither as fast as + the <i>Marechal Bugeaud</i> could carry her. If I had discovered Captain + Vauvenarde instead of Anastasius I would have anathematised him as the + most meddlesome, crazy little marplot that ever looked like Napoleon the + Third. But as the credit of the discovery belonged to him and not to me, I + could only anathematise myself for my dilettanteism in the capacity of a + private inquiry agent. + </p> + <p> + I went to bed and slept badly. The ludicrous scenes of the evening danced + before my eyes; the smoke-filled, sordid room, the ignoble faces round the + table, the foolish hullaballoo, the collapse of Anastasius, my + melodramatic intervention, and the ironical courtesy of the fleshy Captain + Vauvenarde. Also, in the small hours of the night, Anastasius's gigantic + combinations assumed a less trivial aspect. What lunatic scheme was being + hatched behind that dome-like brow? His object in taking me to the club + was obvious. He could not have got in save under my protection. But what + he had reckoned upon doing when he got there Heaven and Anastasius + Papadopoulos only knew. I was also worried by the confounded little pain + inside. + </p> + <p> + On the following afternoon I went down to meet the steamer from + Marseilles. I more than expected to find the dwarf on the quay, but to my + relief he was not there. I had purposely kept my knowledge of Lola's + movements a secret from him, as I desired as far as possible to conduct + affairs without his crazy intervention. I was not sorry, too, that he had + not availed himself of my proposal to visit me that morning and continue + our conversation of the night before. The grotesque as a decoration of + life is valuable; as the main feature it gets on your nerves. + </p> + <p> + I stood on the sloping stone jetty among the crowd of Arab porters and + Europeans and watched the vessel waddle in. Lola and I, catching sight of + each other at the same time, waved handkerchiefs in an imbecile manner, + and when the vessel came alongside, and during the tedious process of + mooring, we regarded each other with photographic smiles. She was wearing + a squirrel coat and a toque of the same fur, and she looked more like a + splendid wild animal than ever. Something inside me—not the little + pain—but what must have been my heart, throbbed suddenly at her + beauty, and the throb was followed by a sudden sense of shock at the + realisation of my keen pleasure at the sight of her. A wistful radiance + shone in her face as she came down the gangway. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how kind, how good, how splendid of you to meet me!” she cried as our + hands clasped. “I was dreading, dreading, dreading that it might be some + one else.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet you came straight through,” said I, still holding her hand—or, + rather, allowing hers to encircle mine in the familiar grip. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you command me to do so?” + </p> + <p> + I could not explain matters to her then and there among the hustle of + passengers and the bustle of porters. Besides, Rogers, who had come down + with the hotel omnibus, was at my side touching his hat. + </p> + <p> + “I have ordered you a room and a private sitting-room with a balcony + facing the sea. Put yourself in charge of me and your luggage in charge of + Rogers and dismiss all thoughts of worry from your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “You are so restful,” she laughed as we moved off. + </p> + <p> + Then she scanned my face and said falteringly. “How thin and worn you + look! Are you worse?” + </p> + <p> + “If you ask me such questions,” said I, “I'll leave you with the luggage + in charge of Rogers. I am in resplendent health.” + </p> + <p> + She murmured that she wished she could believe me, and took my arm as we + walked down the jetty to the waiting cab. + </p> + <p> + “It's good to hear your voice again,” I said. “It's a lazy voice and fits + in with the lazy South.” I pointed to the burnous-enveloped Arabs sleeping + on the parapet. “It's out of place in Cadogan Gardens.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed her low, rippling laugh. It was music very pleasant to hear + after the somewhat shrill cachinnation of the Misses Bostock of South + Shields. I was so pleased that I gave half a franc to a pestilential Arab + shoeblack. + </p> + <p> + “That was nice of you,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “It was the act of an imbecile,” I retorted. “I have now rendered it + impossible for me to enter the town again. How is Dale?” + </p> + <p> + She started. “He's well. Busy with his election. I saw him the day before + I left. I didn't tell him I was coming to Algiers. I wrote from Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “Telling him the reason?” + </p> + <p> + She faced me and met my eyes and said shortly: “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said I. + </p> + <p> + This brought us to the cab. We entered and drove away. Then leaning back + and looking straight in front of her, she grasped my wrist and said: + </p> + <p> + “Now, my dear friend, tell me all and get it over.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Madame Brandt—” I began. + </p> + <p> + She interrupted me. “For goodness' sake don't call me that. It makes a + cold shiver run down my back. I'm either Lola to you or nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, my dear Lola,” said I, “the first thing I must tell you is that I + did not send for you.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? The telegram?” + </p> + <p> + “It was sent by Anastasius Papadopoulos.” + </p> + <p> + “Anastasius?” She bent forward and looked at me. “What is he doing here?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven knows!” said I. “But what he has done has been to find Captain + Vauvenarde. I am glad he has done that, but I am deeply sorry he sent you + the telegram.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry? Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because there was no reason for your coming,” I said with unwonted + gravity. “It would have been better if you had stayed in London, and it + will be best if you take the boat back again to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + She remained silent for a while. Then she said in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “He won't have me?” + </p> + <p> + “He hasn't been asked,” I said. “He will, as far as I can command the + situation, never be asked.” + </p> + <p> + On that I had fully determined; and, when she inquired the reason, I told + her. + </p> + <p> + “I proposed that you should reunite yourself with an honourable though + somewhat misguided gentleman. I've had the reverse of pleasure in meeting + Captain Vauvenarde, and I regret to say, though he is still misguided, he + can scarcely be termed honourable. The term 'gentleman' has still to be + accurately defined.” + </p> + <p> + She made a writhing movement of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me straight out what he's doing in Algiers. You're trying to make + things easy for me. It's the way of your class. It isn't the way of mine. + I'm used to brutality. I like it better. Why did he leave the army and why + is he in Algiers?” + </p> + <p> + “If you prefer the direct method, my dear Lola,” said I—and the name + came quite trippingly on my tongue—“I'll employ it. Your husband has + apparently been kicked out of the army and is now running a + gambling-hell.” + </p> + <p> + She took the blow bravely; but it turned her face haggard like a paroxysm + of physical pain. After a few moments' silence, she said: + </p> + <p> + “It must have been awful for him. He was a proud man.” + </p> + <p> + “He is changed,” I replied gently. “Pride is too hampering a quality for a + knight of industry to keep in his equipment.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me how you met him,” she said. + </p> + <p> + I rapidly sketched the whole absurd history, from my encounter with + Anastasius Papadopoulos in Marseilles to my parting with him on the + previous night. I softened down, as much as I could, the fleshiness of + Captain Vauvenarde and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck, but I + portrayed the villainous physiognomies of his associates very neatly. I + concluded by repeating my assertion that our project had proved itself to + be abortive. + </p> + <p> + “He must be pretty miserable,” said Lola. + </p> + <p> + “Devil a bit,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She did not answer, but settled herself more comfortably in the carriage + and relapsed into mournful silence. I, having said my say, lit a + cigarette. Save for the clanging past of an upward or downward tram, the + creeping drive up the hill through the long winding street was very quiet; + and as we mounted higher and left the shops behind, the only sounds that + broke the afternoon stillness were the driver's raucous admonition to his + horses and the wind in the trees by the wayside. At different points the + turns of the road brought to view the panorama of the town below and the + calm sweep of the bay. + </p> + <p> + “Exquisite, isn't it?” I said at last, with an indicative wave of the + hand. + </p> + <p> + “What's the good of anything being exquisite when you feel mouldy?” + </p> + <p> + “It may help to charm away the mouldiness. Beauty is eternal and + mouldiness only temporal. The sun will go on shining and the sea will go + on changing colour long after our pains and joys have vanished from the + world. Nature is pitilessly indifferent to human emotion.” + </p> + <p> + “If so,” she said, her intuition finding the weakness of my slipshod + argument, “how can it touch human mouldiness?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said I. “The poets will tell you. All you have to do is to + lie on the breast of the Great Mother and your heartache will go from you. + I've never tried it myself, as I've never been afflicted with heartache.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that true?” she asked, womanlike catching at the personal. + </p> + <p> + I smiled and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad on your account,” she said sincerely. “It's the very devil of an + ache. I've always had it.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Lola,” said I, prompted by my acquired instinct of eumoiriety. “I + wish I could cure you.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” She gave a short little laugh and then turned her head away. + </p> + <p> + “I had a very comfortable crossing,” she remarked a moment later. + </p> + <p> + I gave her into the keeping of the manager of the hotel and did not see + her again until she came down somewhat late for dinner. I met her in the + vestibule. She wore a closely fitting brown dress, which in colour matched + the bronze of her hair and in shape showed off her lithe and generous + figure. + </p> + <p> + I thought it my duty to cheer her by a well-deserved compliment. + </p> + <p> + “Are you aware,” I said, with a low bow, “that you're a remarkably + handsome woman?” + </p> + <p> + A perfectly unnecessary light came into her eyes and a superfluous flush + to her cheeks. “If I'm at least that to you, I'm happy,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You're that to the dullest vision. Follow the <i>maitre d'hotel</i>,” + said I, as we entered the <i>salle a manger</i>, “and I'll walk behind in + reflected glory.” + </p> + <p> + We made an effective entrance. I declare there was a perceptible rattle of + soup-spoons laid down by the retired Colonels and maiden ladies as we + passed by. Colonel Bunnion returned my nod of greeting in the most + distracted fashion and gazed at Lola with the frank admiration of British + Cavalry. I felt foolishly proud and exhilarated, and gave her at my table + the seat commanding a view of the room. I then ordered a bottle of + champagne, which I am forbidden to touch. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't often that I have the pleasure of dining with you,” I said by + way of apology. + </p> + <p> + “This is the very first time,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “And it's not going to be the last,” I declared. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were going to ship me back to Marseilles to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed lazily, meeting my eyes. I smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It would be inhuman. I allow you a few day's rest.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, now she was here I had a curious desire to keep her. I regarded + the failure of my eumoirous little plans with more than satisfaction. I + had done my best. I had found (through the dwarf's agency) Captain + Vauvenarde. I had satisfied myself that he was an outrageous person, + thoroughly disqualified from becoming Lola's husband, and there was an end + of the matter. Meanwhile Fate (again through the agency of Anastasius) had + brought her many hundreds of miles away from Dale and had moreover brought + her to me. I was delighted. I patted Destiny on the back, and drank his + health in excellent Pommery. Lola did not know in the least what I meant, + but she smiled amiably and drank the toast. It was quite a merry dinner. + Lola threw herself into my mood and jested as if she had never heard of an + undesirable husband who had been kicked out of the French Army. We talked + of many things. I described in fuller detail my adventure with Anastasius + and Saupiquet, and we laughed over the debt of fifteen sous and the + elaborate receipt. + </p> + <p> + “Anastasius,” she said, “is childish in many ways—the doctors have a + name for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Arrested development.” + </p> + <p> + “That's it; but he is absolutely cracked on one point—the poisoning + of my horse Sultan. He has reams of paper which he calls the dossier of + the crime. You never saw such a collection of rubbish in your life. I + cried over it. And he is so proud of it, poor wee mite.” She laughed + suddenly. “I should love to have seen you hobnobbing with him and + Saupiquet.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “You're so aristocratic-looking,” she did me the embarrassing honour to + explain in her direct fashion. “You're my idea of an English duke.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Lola,” I replied, “you're quite wrong. The ordinary English duke + is a stout, middle-aged gentleman with a beard, and he generally wears + thick knickerbockers and shocking bad hats.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know any?” + </p> + <p> + “Two or three,” I admitted. + </p> + <p> + “And duchesses, too?” + </p> + <p> + I again pleaded guilty. In these democratic days, if one is engaged in + public and social affairs one can't help running up against them. It is + their fault, not mine. + </p> + <p> + “Do tell me about them,” said Lola, with her elbows on the table. + </p> + <p> + I told her. + </p> + <p> + “And are earls and countesses just the same?” she asked with a + disappointed air. + </p> + <p> + “Just the same, only worse. They're so ordinary you can't pick them out + from common misters and missuses.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this I rose, for we had finished our dessert, and proposed coffee + in the lounge. There we found Colonel Bunnion at so wilful a loose end + that I could not find it in my heart to refuse him an introduction to + Lola. He manifested his delight by lifting the skirt of his dinner-jacket + with his hands and rising on his spurs like a bantam cock. I left her to + him for a moment and went over to say a civil word to the Misses Bostock + of South Shields. I regret to say I noticed a certain frigidity in their + demeanour. The well-conducted man in South Shields does not go out one + night with a revolver tucked away in the pocket of his dress-suit, and + turn up the next evening with a striking-looking lady with bronze hair. + Such goings-on are seen on the stage in South Shields in melodrama, and + they are the goings-on of the villain. In the eyes of the gentle ladies my + reputation was gone. I was trying to rehabilitate myself when the chasseur + brought me a telegram. I asked permission to open it, and stepped aside. + </p> + <p> + The words of the telegram were like a ringing box on the ears. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me immediately why Lola has joined you in Algiers. —KYNNERSLEY.” + </p> + <p> + Not “Dale,” mark you, as he has signed himself ever since I knew him in + Eton collars, but “Kynnersley.” Why has Lola joined you? Why have you run + off with Lola? What's the reason of this treacherous abduction? Account + for yourself immediately. Stand and deliver. I stood there gaping at the + words like an idiot, my blood tingling at the implied accusation. The + peremptoriness of it! The impudence of the boy! The wild extravagance of + the idea! And yet, while my head was reeling with one buffet a memory + arose and gave me another on the other side. I remembered the preposterous + attitude in which Dale had found us when he rushed from Berlin into Lola's + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + I took the confounded telegram into a remote corner of the lounge, like a + dog with a bone, and growled over it for a time until the humour of the + situation turned the growl into a chuckle. Even had I been in sound health + and strength, the idea of running off with Lola would have been absurd. + But for me, in my present eumoirous disposition of mind; for me, a + half-disembodied spirit who had cast all vain and disturbing human + emotions into the mud of Murglebed-on-Sea; for me who had a spirit's calm + disregard for the petty passions and interests of mankind and walked + through the world with no other object than healing a few human woes; for + me who already saw death on the other side of the river and found serious + occupation in exchanging airy badinage with him; for me with an abominable + little pain inside inexorably eating my life out and wasting me away + literally and perceptibly like a shadow and twisting me up half a dozen + times a day in excruciating agony; for me, in this delectable condition of + soul and this deplorable condition of body, to think of running hundreds + of miles from home with—to say the least of it—so inconvenient + a creature as a big, bronze-haired woman, the idea was inexpressibly and + weirdly comic. + </p> + <p> + I stepped into the drawing-room close by and drew up a telegram to Dale. + </p> + <p> + “Lady summoned by Papadopoulos on private affairs. Avoid lunacy save for + electioneering purposes.—SIMON.” + </p> + <p> + Then I joined Lola and Colonel Bunnion. She was lying back in her laziest + and most pantherine attitude, and she looked up at me as I approached with + eyes full of velvet softness. For the life of me I could not help feeling + glad that they were turned on me and not on Dale Kynnersley. + </p> + <p> + Almost immediately the elder Miss Bostock came up to claim the Colonel for + bridge. He rose reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it's no use asking you to make a fourth, Mr. de Gex?” she + asked, after the subacid manner of her kind. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid not,” I replied sweetly. Whereupon she rescued the Colonel + from the syren and left me alone with her. I lit a cigarette and sat by + her side. As she did not stir or speak I asked whether she was tired. + </p> + <p> + “Not very. I'm thinking. Do you know you've taught me an awful lot?” + </p> + <p> + “I? What can I have taught you?” + </p> + <p> + “The way people like yourself look at things. I'm treating Dale + abominably. I didn't realise it before.” + </p> + <p> + Now why on earth did she bring Dale in just at that moment. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” said I. + </p> + <p> + She nodded her head and said in her languorous voice: + </p> + <p> + “He's over head and ears in love with me and thinks I care for him. I + don't. I don't care a brass button for him. I'm a bad influence in his + life, and the sooner I take myself out of it the better. Don't you think + so?” + </p> + <p> + “You know my opinions,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “If I had followed your advice at first,” she continued, “we needn't have + had all this commotion. And yet I'm not sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you propose to do?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Before deciding, I shall see my husband.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall do no such thing.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. “I shall.” + </p> + <p> + I protested. Captain Vauvenarde had put himself outside the pale. He was + not fit to associate with decent women. What object could she have in + meeting him? + </p> + <p> + “I want to judge for myself,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Judge what? Surely not whether he is eligible as a husband!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear Lola,” I cried, “the notion is as crazy as any of Anastasius + Papadopoulos's. Of course, as soon as he learns that you're a rich woman, + he'll want to live with you, and use your money for his gaming-hell.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to meet him,” she said quietly. + </p> + <p> + “I forbid it.” + </p> + <p> + “You're too late, dear friend. I wrote him a letter before dinner and sent + it to the Cercle Africain by special messenger. I also wrote to + Anastasius. I asked them both to see me to-morrow morning. That's why I've + been so gay this evening.” + </p> + <p> + At the sight of my blank face she laughed, and with one of her movements + rose from her chair. I rose too. + </p> + <p> + “Are you angry with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I had walked out of a nightmare,” I said. “I find I'm still in + it.” + </p> + <p> + “But don't be angry with me. It was the only way.” + </p> + <p> + “The only way to, or out of, what?” I asked, bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with a singular expression in her slumbrous eyes. It was + sad, wistful, soothing, and gave me the idea of a noble woman making a + senseless sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “There is no earthly reason to do this on account of Dale,” I protested. + </p> + <p> + “Dale has nothing to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then who has?” + </p> + <p> + “Anastasius Papadopoulos,” she said with undisguised irony. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” I said rather stiffly, “for appearing to force your + confidence. But as I first put the idea of joining your husband into your + head and have enjoyed your confidence in the matter hitherto, I thought I + might claim certain privileges.” + </p> + <p> + As she had done before, she laid her hands on my shoulders—we were + alone in the alcove—and looked me in the eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Don't make me cry. I'm very near it. And I'm tired to-night, and I'm + going to have a hellish time to-morrow. And I want you to do me a favour.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “When I'm seeing my husband, I'd like to know that you were within call—in + case I wanted you. One never knows what may happen. You will come won't + you, if I send for you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm always at your service,” I said. + </p> + <p> + She released my shoulders and grasped my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night,” she said, abruptly, and rushed swiftly out of the room, + leaving me wondering more than I had ever wondered in my life at the + inscrutable ways of women. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + I am glad I devoted last night and the past hour this morning to bringing + up to date this trivial record, for I have a premonition that the time is + rapidly approaching when I shall no longer have the strength of will or + body to continue it. The little pain has increased in intensity and + frequency the last few days, and though I try to delude myself into the + belief that otherwise I am as strong as ever, I know in my heart that I am + daily growing weaker, daily losing vitality. I shall soon have to call in + a doctor to give me some temporary relief, and doubtless he will put me to + bed, feed me on slops, cut off alcohol, forbid noise and excitement, and + keep me in a drugged, stupefied condition until I fall asleep, to wake up + in the Garden of Prosperpine. Death is nothing; it is the dying that is + such a nuisance. It is going through so much for so little. It is as bad + as the campaign before a parliamentary election. It offends one's sense of + proportion. In a well-regulated universe there would be no tedious process + of decay, either before or after death. You would go about your daily + avocation unconcerned and unwarned, and then at the moment appointed by an + inscrutable Providence for your dissolution—phew!—and your + clothes would remain standing for a surprised second, and then fall down + in a heap without a particle of you inside them. If we have to die, why + doesn't Providence employ this simple and sensible method? It would save + such a lot of trouble. It would be so clean, so painless, so picturesque. + It would add to the interest of our walks abroad. Fancy a stout, important + policeman vanishing from his uniform—the helmet falling over the + collar, the tunic doubling in at the belt, the knees giving way, and the + unheard, merry laughter of the disenuniformed spirit winging its way + truncheonless into the Empyrean. + </p> + <p> + But if you think you are going to get any fun out of dying in the present + inconvenient manner, you are mistaken. Believe one who is trying. + </p> + <p> + I will remain on my feet, however, as long as my will holds out. In this + way I may continue to be of service to my fellow creatures, and procure + for myself a happy lot or portion. Even this morning I have been able to + feel the throb of eumoiriety. A piteous letter came from Latimer, and a + substantial cheque lies on my table ready to be posted. I wonder how much + I have left? So long as it is enough to pay my doctor's bills and funeral + expenses, what does it matter? + </p> + <p> + The last line of the above was written on December 21st. It is now January + 30th, and I am still alive and able to write. I wish I weren't. But I will + set down as plainly as I can what has happened in the interval. + </p> + <p> + I had just written the last word, seated at my hotel window in the + sunshine, and enjoying, in spite of my uncheerful thoughts, the scents + that rose from the garden, when I heard a knock at my door. At my + invitation to enter, Anastasius Papadopoulos trotted into the room in a + great state of excitement carrying the familiar bunch of papers. He put + his hat on the floor, pitched the papers into the hat, and ran up to me. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, don't get up, I implore you. And I won't sit down. I have + just seen the ever beautiful and beloved lady.” + </p> + <p> + I turned my chair away from the table, and faced him as he stood blowing + kisses with one little hand, while the other lay on his heart. In a flash + he struck a new gesture; he folded his arms and scowled. + </p> + <p> + “I was with her. She was opening her inmost heart to me. She knows I am + her champion. A servant came up announcing Monsieur Vauvenarde. She + dismissed me. I have come to my patron and friend, the English statesman. + Her husband is with her now.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled. “Madame Brandt told me that she had asked for an interview.” + </p> + <p> + “And you allow it? You allow her to contaminate her beautiful presence + with the sight of that traitor, that cheat at cards, that murderer, that + devil? Ah, but I will not have it! I am her champion. I will save her. I + will save you. I will take you both away to Egypt, and surround you with + my beautiful cats, and fan you with peacock's feathers.” + </p> + <p> + This was sheer crackedness of brain. For the first time I feared for the + little man. When people begin to talk that way they are not allowed to go + about loose. He went on talking and the three languages he used in his + jargon got clotted to the point of unintelligibility. He spoke very fast + and, as far as I could understand, poured abuse on the head of Captain + Vauvenarde, and continued to declare himself Lola's champion and my + devoted friend. He stamped up and down the room in his tightly buttoned + frock-coat from the breastpocket of which peeped the fingers of his yellow + dogskin gloves. At last he stopped, and drawing a chair near the window + perched on it with a little hop like a child. He held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe I am your friend?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it, my dear Professor.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll betray a sacred confidence. The <i>carissima signora</i> loves + you. You didn't know it. But she loves you.” + </p> + <p> + I stared for a moment at the dwarf as if he had been a reasonable being. + Something seemed to click inside my head, like a clogged cog-wheel that + had suddenly freed itself, and my mind went whirling away straight through + the past few weeks. I tried to smile, and I said: + </p> + <p> + “You are quite mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” he replied, wagging his Napoleonic head. “Anastasius + Papadopoulos is never mistaken. She told me so herself. She wept. She put + her beautiful arms round my neck and sobbed on my shoulder.” + </p> + <p> + I found myself reproving him gently. “You should not have told me this, my + dear Professor. Such confidences are locked up in the heart of <i>un + galant homme</i>, and are not revealed even to his dearest friend.” + </p> + <p> + But my voice sounded hollow in my own ears, and what he said for the next + few minutes I do not remember. The little man had told the truth to me, + and Lola had told the truth to him. The realisation of it paralysed me. + Why had I been such a fool as not to see it for myself? Memories of a + hundred indications came tumbling one after another into my head—the + forgotten glove, the glances, the changes of mood, the tears when she + learned of my illness, the mysterious words, the abrupt little “You?” of + yesterday. The woman was in love, deeply in love, in love with all the + fervour of her big nature. And I had stood by and wondered what she meant + by this and by that—things that would have been obvious to a + coalheaver. I thought of Dale and I felt miserably guilty, horribly + ashamed. How could I expect him to believe me when I told him that I had + not wittingly stolen her affections from him. And her affections? <i>Bon + Dieu</i>! What on earth could I do with them? What is the use of a woman's + love to a dead man? And did I want it even for the tiny remainder of life? + </p> + <p> + Anastasius, perceiving that I paid but scant attention to his + conversation, wriggled off his chair and stood before me with folded arms. + </p> + <p> + “You adore each other with a great passion,” he said. “She is my Madonna, + and you are my friend and benefactor. I will be your protection and + defence. I will never let her go away with that infamous, gambling and + murdering scoundrel. My gigantic combinations have matured. I bless your + union.” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his little arms in benediction. The situation was cruelly + comical. For a moment I hated the mournful-visaged, posturing monkey, and + had a wild desire to throw him out of the window and have done with him. I + rose and, towering over him, was about to lecture him severely on his + impertinent interference, when the sight of his scared face made me turn + away with a laugh. What would be the use of reproaching him? He would only + sit down on the floor and weep. So I paced the room, while he followed me + with his eyes like an uncertain spaniel. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Professor,” said I at last. “Now that you've found Captain + Vauvenarde, brought Madame Brandt and him together, and told me that she + is in love with me, don't you think you've done enough? Don't you think + your cats need your attention? Something terrible may be happening to + them. I dreamed last night,” I added with desperate mendacity, “that they + were turned into woolly lambs.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the dwarf loftily, “my duty is here. And I care not + whether my cats are turned into the angels of Paradise.” + </p> + <p> + I groaned. “You are wasting a great deal of money over this affair,” I + urged. + </p> + <p> + “What is money to my gigantic combinations?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” I cried with considerable impatience. “What are your confounded + combinations?” + </p> + <p> + He began to tremble violently. “I would rather die,” said he, “than betray + my secret.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all some silly nonsense about that wretched horse!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + He covered his ears with his hands. “Blasphemy! Blasphemy! Don't utter + it!” + </p> + <p> + In another moment he was cowering on his knees before me. + </p> + <p> + “You, of all men, mustn't blaspheme. You whom I love like my master. You + whom the divine lady loves. I can't bear it!” He continued to gibber + unintelligibly. + </p> + <p> + He was stark mad. There was no question of it. For a moment I stood + irresolute. Then I lifted him to his feet and patted his head soothingly. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said I. “I was wrong. It was a beautiful horse. There never + was such a horse in the world. If I had a picture of him I would hang it + up on the wall over my bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you?” he cried joyfully. “Then I will give you one.” + </p> + <p> + He trotted over to the bundle of papers that reposed in his hat on the + floor, searched through them, and to my dismay handed me a faded, + unmounted, and rather torn and crumpled photograph of the wonderful horse. + </p> + <p> + “There!” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I could not rob you of it,” I protested. + </p> + <p> + “It will be my joy to know that you have it—that it is hanging over + your bed. See—have you a pin? I myself will fix it for you.” + </p> + <p> + While he was searching my table for pins the chasseur of the hotel came + with a message from Madame Brandt. Would Monsieur come at once to Madame + in her private room? + </p> + <p> + “I'll come now,” I said. “Professor, you must excuse me.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't mention it. I shall occupy myself in hanging the picture in the + most artistic way possible.” + </p> + <p> + So I left him, his mind apparently concentrated on the childish task of + pinning the photograph of the ridiculous horse on my bedroom wall, and + went with the most complicated feelings downstairs and through the + corridors to Lola's apartments. + </p> + <p> + She rose to meet me as I entered. + </p> + <p> + “It's very kind of you to come,” she said in her fluent but Britannic + French. “May I present my husband, Monsieur Vauvenarde.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Vauvenarde and I exchanged bows. I noticed at once that he wore + the Frenchman's costume when he pays a <i>visite de ceremonie</i>, + frock-coat and gloves, and that a silk hat lay on the table. I was glad + that he paid her this mark of respect. + </p> + <p> + “I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, Monsieur,” said he, “in + circumstances somewhat different.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember perfectly,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “And your charming but inexperienced little friend—is he well?” + </p> + <p> + “He is at present decorating my room with photographs of Madame's late + horse, Sultan,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He was startled, and gave me a quick, sharp look. I did not notice it at + the time, but I remembered it later. Then he broke into an indulgent + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “The poor animal!” He turned to Lola. “How jealous I used to be of him! + And how quickly the time flies. But give yourself the trouble of seating + yourself, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + He motioned me to a chair and sat down. He was a man of polished manner + and had a pleasant voice. I guessed that in the days when he paid court to + Lola, he had been handsome in his dark Norman way, and possessed + considerable fascination. Evil living and sordid passions had coarsened + his features, produced bagginess under the eyes and a shiftiness of + glance. Idleness and an inverted habit of life were responsible for the + nascent paunch and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck. He suggested + the revivified corpse of a fine gentleman that had been unnaturally + swollen. I had disliked him at the Cercle Africain; now I detested him + heartily. The idea of Lola entering the vitiated atmosphere of his life + was inexpressibly repugnant to me. + </p> + <p> + Contrary to her habit, Lola sat bolt upright on the stamped-velvet suite, + the palms of her hands pressing the seat on either side of her. She caught + the shade of disgust that swept over my face, and gave me a quick glance + that pleaded for toleration. Her eyes, though bright, were sunken, like + those of a woman who has not slept. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Vauvenarde, “my wife informs me that to your + disinterested friendship is due this most charming reconciliation.” + </p> + <p> + “Reconciliation?” I echoed. “It was quickly effected.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Mon Dieu</i>,” he said. “I have always longed for the comforts of a + home. My wife has grown tired of a migratory existence. She comes to find + me. I hasten to meet her. There is nothing to keep us apart. The + reconciliation was a matter of a few seconds. I wish to express my + gratitude to you, and, therefore, I ask you to accept my most cordial + thanks.” + </p> + <p> + “It has always been a pleasure to me,” said I very frigidly, “to place my + services at the disposal of Madame Brandt.” + </p> + <p> + “Vauvenarde, Monsieur,” he corrected with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “And is Madame Vauvenarde equally satisfied with the—reconciliation?” + I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I think Monsieur Vauvenarde is somewhat premature,” said Lola, with a + trembling lip. “There were conditions—” + </p> + <p> + “A mere question of protocol.” He waved an airy hand. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what that is,” said Lola. “There are conditions I must fix, + and I thought the advice of my friend, Monsieur de Gex—” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely, my dear Lola,” he interrupted. “The principle is affirmed. We + are reconciled. I proceed logically. The first thing I do is to thank + Monsieur de Gex—you have a French name, Monsieur, and you pronounce + it English fashion, which is somewhat embarrassing—But no matter. + The next thing is the protocol. We have no possibility of calling a family + council, and therefore, I acceded with pleasure to the intervention of + Monsieur. It is kind of him to burden himself with our unimportant + affairs.” + </p> + <p> + The irony of his tone belied the suave correctitude of his words. I + detested him more and more. More and more did I realise that the dying + eumoirist is capable of petty human passions. My vanity was being + sacrified. Here was a woman passionately in love with me proposing to + throw herself into another man's arms—it made not a scrap of + difference, in the circumstances, that the man was her husband—and + into the arms of such a man! Having known me to decline—etcetera, + etcetera! How could she face it? And why was she doing it? To save herself + from me, or me from herself? She knew perfectly well that the little pain + inside would precious soon settle that question. Why was she doing it? I + should have thought that the first glance at the puffy reprobate would + have been enough to show her the folly of her idea. However, it was + comforting to learn that she had not surrendered at once. + </p> + <p> + “If I am to have the privilege, Monsieur,” said I, “of acting as a family + council, perhaps you may forgive my hinting at some of the conditions that + doubtless are in Madame's mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Proceed, Monsieur,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know where I am,” said Lola in English. “He took everything for + granted from the first.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you willing to go back to him?” I asked also in English. + </p> + <p> + She met my gaze steadily, and I saw a woman's needless pain at the back of + her eyes. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Under conditions.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said I in French, turning to Vauvenarde, “forgive us for + speaking our language.” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” said he, and he smiled meaningly and banteringly at us both. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, Monsieur, you are aware that Madame has a little + fortune, which does not detract from the charm you have always found in + her. It was left her by her father, who, as you know, tamed lions and + directed a menagerie. I would propose that Madame appointed trustees to + administer this little fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no necessity, Monsieur,” he said. “By the law of France it is + hers to do what she likes with.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” I rejoined. “Trustees would prevent her from doing what she + liked with it. Madame has indeed a head for affairs, but she also has a + woman's heart, which sometimes interferes with a woman's head in the most + disastrous manner.” + </p> + <p> + “Article No. 1 of the protocol. <i>Allez toujours</i>, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + I went on, feeling happier. “The next article treats of a little matter + which I understand has been the cause of differences in the past between + Madame and yourself. Madame, although she has not entered the arena for + some time, has not finally abandoned it.” I smiled at the look of surprise + on Lola's face. “An artist is always an artist, Monsieur. She is willing, + however, to renounce it for ever, if you, on your side, will make quite a + small sacrifice.” + </p> + <p> + “Name it, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a little passion for baccarat——” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, Monsieur,” said he blandly, “my wife would not expect me to give + up what is the mere recreation of every clubman.” + </p> + <p> + “As a recreation pure and simple—she would not insist too much, but——” + I shrugged my shoulders. I flatter myself on being able to do it with + perfect French expressiveness. I caught, to my satisfaction, an angry + gleam in his eye. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say, Monsieur, that I play for more than recreation?” + </p> + <p> + “How dare I say anything, Monsieur. But Madame is prejudiced against the + Cercle Africain. For a bachelor there is little to be said against it—but + for a married man—you seize the point?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Bien</i>, Monsieur,” he said, swallowing his wrath. “And Article 3?” + </p> + <p> + “Since you have left the army—would it not be better to engage in + some profession—unless your private fortune dispenses you from the + necessity.” + </p> + <p> + He said nothing but: “Article 4?” + </p> + <p> + “It would give Madame comfort to live out of Algiers.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Moi aussi</i>,” he replied rather unexpectedly. “We have the whole of + France to choose from.” + </p> + <p> + “Would not Madame be happier if she lived out of France, also? She has + always longed for a social position.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Eh, bien</i>? I can give her one in France.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure?” I asked, looking him in the eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said he, rising and giving his moustache a swashbuckler twist + upward, “what are you daring to insinuate?” + </p> + <p> + I leaned back in my chair and fingered the waxed ends of mine. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, Monsieur; I ask a simple question, which you surely can have no + difficulty in answering.” + </p> + <p> + “Your questions are the height of indiscretion,” he cried angrily. + </p> + <p> + “In that case, before we carry this interview further, the Family Council + and Madame would do well to have a private consultation.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he cried, completely losing his temper. “I forbid you to use + that tone to me. You are making a mock of me. You are insulting me. I bore + with you long enough to see how much further your insolence would dare to + go. I'm not to have a hand in the administration of my wife's money? I'm + to forsake a plentiful means of livelihood? I'm to become a commercial + traveller? I'm to expatriate myself? I'm to explain, too, the reasons why + I left the army? I would not condescend. Least of all to you.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask why, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Tonnerre de Dieu</i>!” He stamped his foot. “Do you take me for a + fool? Here I am—I came at my wife's request, ready to take her back + as my wife, ready to condone everything—yes, Monsieur, as a man of + the world—you think I have no eyes, no understanding—ready to + take her off your hands—” + </p> + <p> + I leaped to my feet. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” I thundered. + </p> + <p> + Lola gave a cry and rushed forward. I pushed her aside, and glared at him. + I was in a furious rage. We glared at each other eye to eye. I pointed to + the door. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Monsieur, sortez</i>!” + </p> + <p> + I went to it and flung it wide. Anastasius Papadopoulos trotted into the + room. + </p> + <p> + His entrance was so queer, so unexpected, so anti-climatic, that for the + moment the three of us were thrown off our emotional balance. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard all, I have heard all,” shrieked the little man. “I know you + for what you are. I am the champion of the <i>carissima signora</i> and + the protector of the English statesman. You are a traitor and murderer—” + </p> + <p> + Vauvenarde lifted his hand in a threatening gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, you little abortion!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + But Anastasius went on screaming and flourishing his bundle of papers. + </p> + <p> + “Ask him if he remembers the horse Sultan; ask him if he remembers the + horse Sultan!” + </p> + <p> + Lola took him by the shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Anastasius, you must go away from here—to please me. It's my + orders.” + </p> + <p> + But he shook himself free, and the silk hat which he had not removed fell + off in the quick struggle. + </p> + <p> + “Ask him if he remembers Saupiquet,” he screamed, and then banged the + door. + </p> + <p> + A malevolent devil put a sudden idea into my head and prompted speech. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Do</i> you remember Saupiquet?” I asked ironically. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, meddle with your own affairs and let me pass. You shall hear + from me.” + </p> + <p> + The dwarf planted himself before the door. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not pass till you have answered me. Do you remember Saupiquet? + Do you remember the five francs you gave to Saupiquet to let you into + Sultan's stable? Ah! Ha! Ha! You wince. You grow pale. Do you remember the + ball of poison you put down Sultan's throat?” + </p> + <p> + Lola started forward with flaming eyes and anguished face. + </p> + <p> + “You—you?” she gasped. “You were so ignoble as to do that?” + </p> + <p> + “The accursed brute!” shouted Vauvenarde. “Yes, I did it. I wish I had + burned out his entrails.” + </p> + <p> + Anastasius sprang at him like a tiger cat. I had a quick vision of the + dwarf clinging in the air against the other's bulky form, one hand at his + throat, and then of an incredibly swift flash of steel. The dwarf dropped + off and rolled backwards, revealing something black sticking out of + Vauvenarde's frock-coat—for the second I could not realise what it + was. Then Vauvenarde, with a ghastly face, reeled sideways and collapsed + in a heap on the ground. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + Of what happened immediately afterwards I have but a confused memory. I + remember that Lola and I both fell on our knees beside the stabbed man, + and I remember his horrible staring eyes and open mouth. I remember that, + though she was white and shaky, she neither shrieked, went into hysterics, + nor fainted. I remember rushing down to the manager; I remember running + with him breathlessly through obscure passages of the hotel in search of a + doctor who was attending a sick member of the staff. I remember the rush + back, the doctor bending over the body, which Lola had partially + unclothed, and saying: + </p> + <p> + “He is dead. The blade has gone straight through his heart.” + </p> + <p> + And I have in my mind the unforgettable and awful picture of Anastasius + Papadopoulos disregarded in a corner of the room, with his absurd silk hat + on—some reflex impulse had caused him to pick it up and put it on + his head—sitting on the floor amid a welter of documents relating to + the death of the horse Sultan, one of which he was eagerly perusing. + </p> + <p> + After this my memory is clear. It was only the first awful shock and + horror of the thing that dazed me. + </p> + <p> + The man was dead, said the doctor. He must lie until the police arrived + and drew up the <i>proces-verbal</i>. The manager went to telephone to the + police, and while he was gone I told the doctor what had occurred. + Anastasius took no notice of us. Lola, holding her nerves under iron + control, stood bolt upright looking alternately at the doctor and myself + as we spoke. But she did not utter a word. Presently the manager returned. + The alarm had not been given in the hotel. No one knew anything about the + occurrence. Lola went into her bedroom and came back with a sheet. The + manager took it from her and threw it over the dead man. The doctor stood + by Anastasius. The end of a strip of sunlight by the window just caught + the dwarf in his corner. + </p> + <p> + “Get up,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + Anastasius, without raising his eyes from his papers, waved him away. + </p> + <p> + “I am busy. I am engaged on important papers of identification. He had a + white star on his forehead, and his tail was over a metre long.” + </p> + <p> + Lola approached him. + </p> + <p> + “Anastasius,” she said gently. He looked up with a radiant smile. “Put + away those papers.” Like a child he obeyed and scrambled to his feet. + Then, seeing the unfamiliar face of the doctor for the first time, he + executed one of his politest and most elaborate bows. The doctor after + looking at him intently for a while, turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “Mad. Utterly mad. Apparently he has no consciousness of what he has + done.” + </p> + <p> + He lured him to the sofa and sat beside him and began to talk in a low + tone of the contents of the papers. Anastasius replied cheerfully, proud + at being noticed by the stranger. The papers referred to a precious + secret, a gigantic combination, which he had spent years in maturing. I + shivered at the sound of his voice, and turned to Lola. + </p> + <p> + “This is no place for you. Go into your bedroom till you are wanted.” + </p> + <p> + I held the door open for her. She put her hands up to her face and reeled, + and I thought she would have fallen; but she roused herself. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to break down—not yet. I shall if I'm left alone—come + and sit with me, for God's sake.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She passed me and I followed; but at the door I turned and glanced round + the cheerful, sunny room. There, against the background of blue sky and + tree tops framed by the window, sat Anastasius Papadopoulos, swinging his + little legs and talking bombastically to the tanned and grizzled doctor, + and opposite stood the correctly attired hotel manager in the attitude in + which he habitually surveyed the lay-out of the table d'hote, keeping + watch beside the white-covered shape on the floor. I was glad to shut the + sight from my eyes. We waited silently in the bedroom, Lola sitting on the + bed and hiding her face in the pillows, and I standing by the window and + looking out at the smiling mockery of the fair earth. An agonising spasm + of pain—a <i>momento mori</i>—shot through me and passed away. + I thanked God that a few weeks would see the end of me. I had always + enjoyed the comedy of life. It had been to me a thing of infinite jest. + But this stupid, meaningless tragedy was carrying the joke too far. My + fastidiousness revolted at its vulgarity. I no longer wished to inhabit a + world where such jests were possible. . . . I had never seen a man die + before. I was surprised at the swiftness and the ugliness of it. . . . I + suddenly realised that I was smoking a cigarette, which I was quite + unconscious of having lit. I threw it away. A minute afterwards I felt + that if I did not smoke I should go crazy. So I lit another. . . . The + ghastly silliness of the murder! . . . Colonel Bunnion's loud laugh rose + from the terrace below, jarring horribly on my ears. A long green praying + mantis that had apparently mounted on the bougainvillea against the hotel + wall appeared in meditative stateliness on the window-sill. I picked the + insect up absent-mindedly, and began to play with it. Lola's voice from + the bed startled me and caused me to drop the mantis. She spoke hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me—what are they going to do with him?” + </p> + <p> + I turned round. She had raised a crushed face from the pillows, and looked + at me haggardly. I noticed a carafe of brandy and a siphon by the bedside. + I mixed her a strong dose, and, before replying, made her drink it. + </p> + <p> + “They'll place him under restraint, that's all. He's not responsible for + his actions.” + </p> + <p> + “He did that once before—I told you—but without the knife—I + wish I could cry—I can't—You don't think it heartless of me—but + my brain is on fire—I shall always see it—I wish to God I had + never asked him to come—Why did I? My God, why did I?—It was + my fault—I wanted to see him—to judge for myself how much of + the old Andre was left—there was good in him once—I thought I + might possibly help him—There was nothing for me to do in the world—Without + you any kind of old hell was good enough—That's why I sent for him—When + he came, after a bit, I was afraid, and sent for you——” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid of what?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “He asked me at once what money I had—Then there seemed to be no + doubt in his mind that I would join him—We spoke of you—the + friend who could advise me—He never said—what he said + afterwards—I thought it kind of him to consent to see you—I + rang the bell and sent the chasseur for you. I supposed Anastasius had + gone home—I never thought of him. The poor little man was sweet to + me, just like a dog—a silent, sympathetic dog—I spoke to him + as I would to something that wouldn't understand—all sorts of + foolish things—Now and then a woman has to empty her heart”—she + shivered—her hands before her face. + </p> + <p> + “It's my fault, it's my fault.” + </p> + <p> + “These things are no one's fault,” I said gently. But just as I was + beginning to console her with what thumb-marked scraps of platitude I + could collect—the only philosophy after all, such is the futility of + systems, adequate to the deep issues of life—the door opened and the + manager announced that the police had arrived. + </p> + <p> + We went through the ordeal of the <i>proces-verbal</i>. Anastasius, + confronted with his victim, had no memory of what had occurred. He + shrieked and shrank and hid his face in Lola's dress. When he was forced + to speak he declared that the dead man was not Captain Vauvenarde. Captain + Vauvenarde was at the Cercle Africain. He, himself, was seeking him. He + would take the gendarmes there, and they could arrest the Captain for the + murder of Sultan of which his papers contained indubitable proofs. + Eventually the poor little wretch was led away in custody, proud and + smiling, entirely convinced that he was leading his captors to the arrest + of Captain Vauvenarde. On the threshold he turned and bowed to us so low + that the brim of his silk hat touched the floor. Then Lola's nerve gave + way and she broke into a passion of awful weeping. + </p> + <p> + The <i>commissaire de police</i> secured the long thin knife (how the + dwarf had managed to conceal it on his small person was a mystery) and the + bundle of documents, and accompanied me to my room to see whether he had + left anything there to serve as a <i>piece de conviction</i>. We found + only the crumpled picture of the horse Sultan neatly pinned against my + bedroom wall, and on the floor a ribbon tied like a garter with a little + bell opposite the bow. On it was written “Santa Bianca,” and I knew it was + the collar of the beloved cat which he must have been carrying about him + for a talisman. The <i>commissaire</i> took this also. + </p> + <p> + If you desire to know the details of the judicial proceedings connected + with the murder of Andre Marie-Joseph Vauvenarde, ex-Captain in the + Chasseurs d'Afrique, and the trial of Anastasius Papadopoulos, I must + refer you to the Algerian, Parisian, and London Press. There you will find + an eagerly picturesque account of the whole miserable affair. Now, not + only am I unable to compete with descriptive verbatim reporters on their + own ground, but also a consecutive statement, either bald or graphic, of + the tedious horrors Lola Brandt and I had to undergo, would be foreign to + the purpose of these notes, however far from their original purpose an + ironical destiny has caused them to wander. You know nearly all that is + necessary for you to know, so that when I am dead you may not judge me too + harshly. The remainder I can summarise in a few words. At any rate, I have + told the truth, often more naively than one would have thought possible + for a man who prided himself as much as I did on his epicurean + sophistication. + </p> + <p> + These have been days, as I say, of tedious horror. There have been endless + examinations, reconstructions of the crime, exposures in daring publicity + of the private lives of the protagonists of the lunatic drama. The French + judges and advocates have accepted the account given by Lola and myself of + our mutual relations with a certain mocking credulity. The Press hasn't + accepted it at all. It took as a matter of course the view held by the + none too noble victim. At first, seeing Lola shrug her shoulders with + supreme indifference as to her own reputation, I cared but little for + these insinuations. I wrote such letters to my sisters and to Dale as I + felt sure would be believed, and let the long-eared, gaping world go hang. + Besides, I had other things to think of. Physical pain is insistent, and I + have suffered damnable torture. The pettiness of the legal inquiry has + been also a maddening irritation. Nothing has been too minute for the + attention of the French judiciary. It seemed as though the whole of the + evil gang of the Cercle Africain were called as witnesses. They testified + as to Captain Vauvenarde's part proprietorship of the hell—as to + wrong practices that occurred there—as to the crazy conduct of both + Anastasius and myself on the occasion of my insane visit. Officers of the + Chasseurs d'Afrique were compelled further to blacken the character of the + dead man—he had been a notorious plucker of pigeons during most of + his military career, and when at last he was caught red-handed palming the + king at <i>ecarte</i>, he was forced to resign his commission. Arabs came + from the slums with appalling stories. Even the stolid Saupiquet, dragged + from Toulon, gave evidence as to the five-franc bribe and the debt of + fifteen sous, and identified the horse Sultan by the crumpled photograph. + Lola and I have been racked day after day with questions—some, + indeed, prompted by the suspicion that Vauvenarde might have met his death + directly by our hand instead of that of Anastasius. It was the + Procureur-general who said: “It can be argued that you would benefit by + the decease of the defunct.” I replied that we could not benefit in any + way. My sole object was to effect a reconciliation between husband and + wife. “Will you explain why you gave yourself that trouble?” I never have + smiled so grimly as I did then. How could I explain my precious pursuit of + the eumoirous to a French Procureur-general? How could I put before him + the point of view of a semi-disembodied spirit? I replied with lame lack + of originality that my actions proceeded from disinterested friendship. + “You are a pure altruist then?” said he. “Very pure,” said I. . . . It was + only the facts of the scabbard of the knife having been found attached to + the dwarf's person beneath his clothes, and of certain rambling menaces + occurring in his Sultan papers that saved us from the indignity of being + arrested and put into the dock. . . . + </p> + <p> + During all this time I remained at the hotel at Mustapha Superieur. Lola + moved to a suite of rooms in another hotel a little way down the hill. I + saw her daily. At first she shrank from publicity and refused to go out, + save in a closed carriage to the town when her presence was necessary at + the inquiries. But after a time I persuaded her to brave the stare of the + curious and stroll with me among the eucalyptus woods above. We cut + ourselves off from other human companionship and felt like two lost souls + wandering alone through mist. She conducted herself with grave and simple + dignity. . . . Once or twice she visited Anastasius in prison. She found + him humanely treated and not despondent. He thought they had arrested him + for the poisoning of the horse, and laughed at their foolishness. As they + refused to return him his dossier, he occupied himself in reconstructing + it, and wrote pages and pages of incoherence to prove the guilt of Captain + Vauvenarde. He was hopelessly mad. . . . The bond of pain bound me very + close to Lola. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do with your life?” I asked her one day. + </p> + <p> + “So long as I have you as a friend, it doesn't greatly matter.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget,” I said, “that you can't have me much longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to leave me? It's not because I have dragged you through + all this dirt and horror. Another woman might say that of another man—but + not I of you. Why are you going to leave me? I want so little—only + to see you now and then—to keep the heart in me.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't you realise, that what I said in London is true?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I can't. It's unbelievable. You can't believe it yourself. If you + did, how could you go on behaving like anybody else—like me for + instance?” + </p> + <p> + “What would you do if you were condemned to die?” + </p> + <p> + She shuddered. “I should go mad with fear—I——” She broke + off and remained for some moments reflective, with knitted brow. Then she + lifted her head proudly. “No, I shouldn't. I should face it like you. Only + cowards are afraid. It's best to show things that you don't care a hang + for them.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep that sublime <i>je m'en fich'isme</i> up when I'm dead and buried,” + said I, “and you'll pull through your life all right. The only thing you + must avoid is the pursuit of eumoiriety.” + </p> + <p> + “What on earth is that?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “The last devastating vanity,” said I. + </p> + <p> + And so it is. + </p> + <p> + “When you are gone,” she said bravely, “I shall remember how strong and + true you were. It will make me strong too.” + </p> + <p> + I acquiesced silently in her proposition. In this age of flippancy and + scepticism, if a human soul proclaims sincerely its faith in the divinity + of a rabbit, in God's name don't disturb it. It is <i>something</i> + whereto to refer his aspirations, his resolves; it is a court of + arbitration, at the lowest, for his spiritual disputes; and the rabbit + will be as effective an oracle as any other. For are not all religions but + the strivings of the spirit towards crystallisation at some point outside + the environment of passions and appetites which is the flesh, so that it + can work untrammelled: and are not all gods but the accidental forms, + conditioned by circumstance, which this crystallisation takes? All gods in + their anthropo-, helio-, thero-, or what-not-morphic forms are false; but, + on the other hand, all gods in their spiritual essence are true. So I do + not deprecate my prospective unique position in Lola Brandt's hagiology. + It was better for her soul that I should occupy it. Even if I were about + to live my normal life out, like any other hearty human, marry and beget + children, I doubt whether I should attempt to shake my wife's faith in my + heroical qualities. + </p> + <p> + This was but a fragment of one among countless talks. Some were lighter in + tone, others darker, the mood of man being much like a child's balloon + which rises or falls as the strata of air are more rarefied or more dense. + Perhaps during the time of strain, the atmosphere was more often rarefied, + and our conversation had the day's depressing incidents for its topics. We + rarely spoke of the dead man. He was scarcely a subject for panegyric, and + it was useless to dwell on the memory of his degradation. I think we only + once talked of him deeply and at any length, and that was on the day of + the funeral. His brother, a manufacturer at Clermont-Ferrand, and a + widowed aunt, apparently his only two surviving relatives, arrived in + Algiers just in time to attend the ceremony. They had seen the report of + the murder in the newspapers and had started forthwith. The brother, + during an interview with Lola, said bitter things to her, reproaching her + with the man's downfall, and cast on her the responsibility of his death. + </p> + <p> + “He spoke,” she said, “as if I had suggested the murder and practically + put the knife into the poor crazy little fellow's hand.” + </p> + <p> + The Vauvenardes must have been an amiable family. + </p> + <p> + “Before I came,” she said a little while later, “I still had some + tenderness for him—a woman has for the only man that has been—really—in + her life. I wish I could feel it now. I wish I could feel some respect + even. But I can't. If I could, it would lessen the horror that has got + hold of me to my bones.” + </p> + <p> + It was a torture to her generous soul that she could not grieve for him. + She could only shudder at the tragedy. In her heart she grieved more for + Anastasius Papadopoulos, and in so doing she was, in her feminine way, + self-accusative of callous lack of human feeling. It was my attempt to + bring her to a more rational state of mind that caused us to review the + dead man's career, and recapitulate the unpleasing incidents of the last + interview. + </p> + <p> + Of Captain Vauvenarde, no more. He has gone whither I am going. That his + soul may rest in peace is my earnest prayer. But I do not wish to meet + him. + </p> + <p> + Lola went tearless and strong through the horrible ordeal of the judicial + proceedings. She said I gave her courage. Perhaps, unconsciously, I did. + It was only when the end came that she broke down, although she knew + exactly what the end would be. And I, too, felt a lump in my throat when + they sentenced Anastasius Papadopoulos to the asylum, and I saw him for + the last time, the living parody of Napoleon III, frock-coated and + yellow-gloved, the precious, newly written dossier in his hand, as he + disappeared with a mournful smile from the court, after bowing low to the + judge and to us, without having understood the significance of anything + that had happened. + </p> + <p> + In the carriage that took us home she wept and sobbed bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “I loved him so. He was the only creature on earth that loved me. He loved + me as only a dog can love—or an angel.” + </p> + <p> + I let her cry. What could I say or do? + </p> + <p> + These have been weeks of tedious horror and pain. With the exception of + Colonel Bunnion, I have kept myself aloof from my fellow creatures in the + hotel, even taking my meals in my own rooms, not wishing to be stared at + as the hero of the scandal that convulsed the place. And with regard to + Colonel Bunnion shall I be accused of cynicism if I say that I admitted + him—not to my confidence—but to my company, because I know + that it delighted the honest but boring fellow to prove to himself that he + could rise above British prejudice and exhibit tact in dealing with a man + in a delicate position? For, mark you, all the world—even those + nearest and dearest to me as I soon discovered—believed that the + wife of the man who was murdered before my eyes was my mistress. Colonel + Bunnion was kind, and he meant to be kind. He was a gentleman for all his + wearisomeness, and his kindness was such as I could accept. But I know + what I say about him is true. Ye gods! Haven't I felt myself the same + swelling pride in my broadmindedness? When a man is going on my journey he + does not palter with truth. + </p> + <p> + Though I held myself aloof, as I say, from practically all my fellow + creatures here, I have not been cut off from the outside world. My + sisters, like this French court in Algiers, have accepted my statement + with polite incredulity. Their letters have been full of love, half-veiled + reproach, anxiety as to their social position, and an insane desire to + come and take care of me. This I have forbidden them to do. The pain they + would have inflicted on themselves, dear souls, would have far outweighed + the comfort I might have gained from their ministrations. Then I have had + piteous letters from Dale. + </p> + <p> + “. . . Your telegram reassured me, though I was puzzled. Now I get a + letter from Lola, telling me it's all off—that she never loved me—that + she valued my youth and my friendship, but that it is best for us not to + meet again. What is the meaning of it, Simon? For Heaven's sake tell me. I + can't think of anything else. I can't sleep. I am going off my head. . . + .” + </p> + <p> + Again. “. . . This awful newspaper report and your letter of explanation—I + have them side by side. Forgive me, Simon. I don't know what to believe, + where to turn. . . . I have looked up to you as the best and straightest + man I know. You must be. Yet why have you done this? Why didn't you tell + me she was married? Why didn't she tell me? I can't write properly, my + head is all on a buzz. The beastly papers say you were living with her in + Algiers—but you weren't, were you? It would be too horrible. In + fact, you say you weren't. But, all the same, you have stolen her from me. + It wasn't like you. . . . And this awful murder. My God! you don't know + what it all means to me. It's breaking my heart. . . .” + </p> + <p> + And Lady Kynnersley wrote—with what object I scarcely know. The + situation was far beyond the poor lady's by-laws and regulations for the + upbringing of families and the conduct of life. The elemental mother in + her battled on the side of her only son—foolishly, irrationally, + unkindly. Her exordium was as correct as could be. The tragedy shocked + her, the scandal grieved her, the innuendoes of the Press she refused to + believe; she sympathised with me deeply. But then she turned from me to + Dale, and feminine unreason took possession of her pen. She bitterly + reproached herself for having spoken to me of Madame Brandt. Had she known + how passionate and real was this attachment, she would never have + interfered. The boy was broken-hearted. He accused me of having stolen her + from him—his own words. He took little interest in his + electioneering campaign, spoke badly, unconvincingly; spent hours in + alternate fits of listlessness and anger. She feared for her darling's + health and reason. She made an appeal to me who professed to love him—if + it were honourably possible, would I bring Madame Brandt back to him? She + was willing now to accept Dale's estimate of her worth. Could I, at the + least, prevail on Madame Brandt to give him some hope—of what she + did not know—but some hope that would save him from ruining his + career and “doing something desperate”? + </p> + <p> + And another letter from Dale: + </p> + <p> + “. . . I can't work at this election. For God's sake, give her back to me. + Then I won't care. What is Parliament to me without her? And the election + is as good as lost already. The other side has made as much as possible of + the scandal. . . .” + </p> + <p> + The only letters that have not been misery to read have come from Eleanor + Faversham. There was one passage which made me thank God that He had + created such women as Eleanor— + </p> + <p> + “Don't fret over the newspaper lies, dear. Those who love you—and + why shouldn't I love you still?—know the honourable gentleman that + you are. Write to me if it would ease your heart and tell me just what you + feel you can. Now and always you have my utter sympathy and + understanding.” + </p> + <p> + And this is the woman of whose thousand virtues I dared to speak in + flippant jest. + </p> + <p> + Heaven forgive me. + </p> + <p> + After receiving Lady Kynnersley's appeal, I went to Lola. It was just + before the case came on at the Cour d'Assises. She had finished luncheon + in her private room and was sitting over her coffee. I joined her. She + wore the black blouse and skirt with which I have not yet been able to + grow familiar, as it robbed her of the peculiar fascinating quality which + I have tried to suggest by the word pantherine. Coffee over, we moved to + the window which opened on a little back garden—the room was on the + ground floor—in which grew prickly pear and mimosa, and newly + flowering heliotrope. I don't know why I should mention this, except that + some scenes impress themselves, for no particular reason, on the memory, + while others associated with more important incidents fade into vagueness. + I picked a bunch of heliotrope which she pinned at her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Lola,” I said, “I want to speak to you seriously.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled wanly: “Do we ever speak otherwise these dreadful days?” + </p> + <p> + “It's about Dale. Read this,” said I, and I handed her Lady Kynnersley's + letter. She read it through and returned it to me. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “I asked you a week or two ago what you were going to do with your life,” + I said. “Does that letter offer you any suggestion?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm to give him some hope—what hope can I give him?” + </p> + <p> + “You're a free woman—free to marry. For the boy's sake the mother + will consent. When she knows you as well as we know you she will—” + </p> + <p> + “She will—what? Love me?” + </p> + <p> + “She's a woman not given to loving—except, in unexpected bursts, her + offspring. But she will respect you.” + </p> + <p> + She stood for a few moments silent, her arm resting against the window + jamb and her head on her arm. She remained there so long that at last I + rose and, looking at her face, saw that her eyes were full of tears. She + dashed them away with the back of her hand, gave me a swift look, and went + and sat in the shadow of the room. An action of this kind on the part of a + woman signifies a desire for solitude. I lit a cigarette and went into the + garden. + </p> + <p> + It was a sorry business. I saw as clearly as Lola that Lady Kynnersley + desired to purchase Dale's immediate happiness at any price, and that the + future might bring bitter repentance. But I offered no advice. I have + finished playing at Deputy Providence. A madman letting off fireworks in a + gunpowder factory plays a less dangerous game. + </p> + <p> + Presently she joined me and ran her arm through mine. + </p> + <p> + “I'll write to Dale this afternoon,” she said. “Don't let us talk of it + any more now. You are tired out. It's time for you to go and lie down. + I'll walk with you up the hill.” + </p> + <p> + It has come to this, that I must lie down for some hours during the day + lest I should fall to pieces. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I'll have to,” I laughed. “What a thing it is to have the wits + of a man and the strength of a baby.” + </p> + <p> + She pressed my arm and said in her low caressing voice which I had not + heard for many weeks: “I shouldn't be so proud of those man's wits, if I + were you.” + </p> + <p> + I knew she said it playfully with reference to masculine non-perception of + the feminine; but I chose to take it broadly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Lola,” said I, “it has been borne in upon me that I am the most + witless fool that the unwisdom of generations of English country squires + has ever succeeded in producing.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk rot,” she said, with foolishness in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + She accompanied me bareheaded in the sunshine to the gate of my hotel. + </p> + <p> + “Come and dine with me, if you're well enough,” she said as we parted. + </p> + <p> + I assented, and when the evening came I went. Did I not say that we were + like two lost souls wandering alone in the mist? + </p> + <p> + It was only when I rose to bid her good-night that she referred to Dale. + </p> + <p> + “I wrote to him this afternoon,” she announced curtly. + </p> + <p> + “You said you would do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to know what I told him?” + </p> + <p> + She put her hands behind her back and stood facing me, somewhat defiantly, + in all her magnificence. I smiled. Women, much as they scoff at the + blindness of our sex, are often transparent. + </p> + <p> + “It's your firm determination to tell me,” said I. “Well?” + </p> + <p> + She advanced a step nearer to me, and looked me straight in the eyes + defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “I told him that I loved you with all my heart and all my soul. I told him + that you didn't know it; that you didn't care a brass curse for me; that + you had acted as you thought best for the happiness of himself and me. I + told him that while you lived I could not think of another man. I told him + that if you could face Death with a smile on your face, he might very well + show the same courage and not chuck things right and left just because a + common woman wouldn't marry him or live with him and spoil his career. + There! That's what I told him. What do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven knows what effect it will have,” said I, wearily, for I was very, + very tired. “But why, my poor Lola, have you wasted your love on a shadow + like me?” + </p> + <p> + She answered after the foolish way of women. + </p> + <p> + I have not heard from either Dale or Lady Kynnersley. A day or two ago, in + reply to a telegram to Raggles, I learned that Dale had lost the election. + </p> + <p> + This, then, is the end of my <i>apologia pro vita mea</i>, which I began + with so resonant a flourish of vainglory. I have said all that there is to + be said. Nothing more has happened or is likely to happen until they put + me under the earth. Oh, yes, I was forgetting. In spite of my Monte Cristo + munificence, poor Latimer has been hammered on the Stock Exchange. Poor + Lucy and the kids! + </p> + <p> + I shall have, I think, just enough strength left to reach Mentone—this + place is intolerable now—and there I shall put myself under the care + of a capable physician who, with his abominable drugs, will doubtless + begin the cheerful work of inducing the mental decay which I suppose must + precede physical dissolution. + </p> + <p> + I must confess that I am disappointed with the manner of my exit. I had + imagined it quite different. I had beheld myself turning with a smile and + a jest for one last view of the faces over which I, in my eumoirous + career, had cast the largesse of happiness, and the vanishing with a + gallant carelessness through the dusky portals. Instead of that, here am I + sneaking out of life by the back door, covering my eyes for very shame. + And glad? Oh, God, how glad I am to slink out of it! + </p> + <p> + I have indeed accomplished the thing which I set out to do. I have severed + a boy from the object of his passion. What an achievement for the crowning + glory of a lifetime! And at what a cost: one fellow-creature's life and + another's reason. On me lies the responsibility. Vauvenarde, it is true, + did not adorn this grey world, but he drew the breath of life, and, + through my jesting agency, it was cut off. Anastasius Papadopoulos, had he + not come under my malign influence would have lived out his industrious, + happy and dream-filled days. Lesser, but still great price, too, has been + paid. Jealous hatred, misery and failure for the being I care most for in + the world, the shame of a sordid scandal to those that hold me dear, the + hopeless love and speedy mourning of a woman not without greatness. + </p> + <p> + I have tried to make a Tom Fool of Destiny—and Destiny has proved + itself to be the superior jester of the two, and has made a grim and + bedraggled Tom Fool of me. + </p> + <p> + . . . I must end this. I have just fallen in a faint on the floor, and + Rogers has revived me with some drops Hunnington had given me in view of + such a contingency. + </p> + <p> + These are the last words I shall write. Life is too transcendentally + humorous for a man not to take it seriously. Compared with it, Death is + but a shallow jest. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + It is many weeks since I wrote those words which I thought were to be my + last. I read them over now, and laugh aloud. Life is more devilishly + humorous than I in my most nightmare dreams ever imagined. Instead of + dying at Mentone as I proposed, I am here, at Mustapha Superieur, still + living. And let me tell you the master joke of the Arch-Jester. + </p> + <p> + I am going to live. + </p> + <p> + I am not going to die. I am going to live. I am quite well. + </p> + <p> + Think of it. Is it farcical, comical, tragical, or what? + </p> + <p> + This is how it has befallen. The last thing I remember of the old + conditions was Rogers packing my things, and a sudden, awful, excruciating + agony. I lost consciousness, remained for days in a bemused, stupefied + state, which I felt convinced was death, and found particularly pleasant. + At last I woke to a sense of bodily constriction and discomfort, and to + the queer realisation that what I had taken for the Garden of Prosperpine + was my own bedroom, and that the pale lady whom I had so confidently + assumed was she who, crowned with calm leaves, “gathers all things mortal + with cold, immortal hands” was no other than a blue-and-white-vested + hospital nurse. + </p> + <p> + “What the——” I began. + </p> + <p> + “Chut!” she said, flitting noiselessly to my side. “You mustn't talk.” And + then she poured something down my throat. I lay back, wondering what it + all meant. Presently a grizzled and tanned man, wearing a narrow black + tie, came into the room. His face seemed oddly familiar. The nurse + whispered to him. He came up to the bed, and asked me in French how I + felt. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know at all,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “That's a good sign. Let me see how you are getting on.” He + stuck a thermometer in my mouth and held my pulse. These formalities + completed, he turned up the bedclothes and did something with my body. + Only then did I realise that I was tightly bandaged. My impressions grew + clearer, and when he raised his face I recognised the doctor who had sat + on the sofa with Anastasius Papadopoulos. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing could be better,” said he. “Keep quiet, and all will be well.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you kindly explain?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “You've had an operation. Also a narrow escape.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled at him pityingly. “What is the good of taking all this trouble? + Why are you wasting your time?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then he laughed as the + light came to him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I understand! Yes. Your English doctors had told you you were going + to die. That an operation would be fatal—so your good friend Madame + Brandt informed us—but we—<i>nous autres Francais</i>—are + more enterprising. Kill or cure. We performed the operation—we + didn't kill you—and here you are—cured.” + </p> + <p> + My heart sickened with a horrible foreboding. A clamminess, such as others + feel at the approach of death, spread over my brow and neck. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” I cried, “you are not trying to tell me that I'm going to + live?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course I am!” he exclaimed, brutally delighted. “If nothing else + kills you, you'll live to be a hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, damn!” said I. “Oh, damn! Oh, damn!” and the tears of physical + weakness poured down my cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Ce sont des droles de gens, les Anglais</i>!” I heard him whisper to + the nurse before he left the room. + </p> + <p> + Belonging to a queer folk or not, I found the prospect more and more + dismally appalling according as my mind regained its clarity. It was the + most overwhelming, piteous disappointment I have ever experienced in my + life. I cursed in my whimpering, invalid fashion. + </p> + <p> + “But don't you want to get well?” asked the wide-eyed nurse. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not! I thought I was dead, and I was very happy. I've been + tricked and cheated and fooled,” and I dashed my fist against the + counterpane. + </p> + <p> + “If you go on in this way,” said the nurse, “you will commit suicide.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care!” I cried—and then, they tell me, fainted. My + temperature also ran up, and I became lightheaded again. It was not until + the next day that I recovered my sanity. This time Lola was in the room + with the nurse, and after a while the latter left us together. Even Lola + could not understand my paralysing dismay. + </p> + <p> + “But think of it, my dear friend,” she argued, “just think of it. You are + saved—saved by a miracle. The doctor says you will be stronger than + you have ever been before.” + </p> + <p> + “All the more dreadful will it be,” said I. “I had finished with life. I + had got through with it. I don't want a second lifetime. One is quite + enough for any sane human being. Why on earth couldn't they have let me + die?” + </p> + <p> + Lola passed her cool hand over my forehead. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't talk like that—Simon,” she said, in her deepest and + most caressing voice, using my name somewhat hesitatingly, for the first + time. “You mustn't. A miracle really has been performed. You've been + raised from the dead—like the man in the Gospel——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I petulantly, “Lazarus. And does the Gospel tell us what + Lazarus really thought of the unwarrantable interference with his plans? + Of course he had to be polite—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't!” cried, Lola, shocked. In a queer unenlightened way, she was a + religious woman. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry,” said I, feeling ashamed of myself. + </p> + <p> + “If you knew how I have prayed God to make you well,” she said. “If I + could have died for you, I would—gladly—gladly——” + </p> + <p> + “But I wanted to die, my dear Lola,” I insisted, with the egotism of the + sick. “I object to this resuscitation. I say it is monstrous that I should + have to start a second lifetime at my age. It's all very well when you + begin at the age of half a minute—but when you begin at + eight-and-thirty years——” + </p> + <p> + “You have all the wisdom of eight-and-thirty years to start with.” + </p> + <p> + “There is only one thing more disastrous to a man than the wisdom of + thirty-eight years,” I declared with mulish inconvincibility, “and that is + the wisdom he may accumulate after that age.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed and abandoned the argument. “We are going to make you well in + spite of yourself,” she said. + </p> + <p> + They, namely, the doctor, the nurse, and Lola, have done their best, and + they have succeeded. But their task has been a hard one. The patient's + will to live is always a great factor in his recovery. My disgust at + having to live has impeded my convalescence, and I fully believe that it + is only Lola's tears and the doctor's frenzied appeals to me not to + destroy the one chance of his life of establishing a brilliant + professional reputation that have made me consent to face existence again. + </p> + <p> + As for the doctor, he was pathetically insistent. + </p> + <p> + “But you must get well!” he gesticulated. “I am going to publish it, your + operation. It will make my fortune. I shall at last be able to leave this + hole of an Algiers and go to Paris! You don't know what I've done for you! + I've performed an operation on you that has never been performed + successfully before. I thought it had been done, but I found out + afterwards my English <i>confreres</i> were right. It hasn't. I've worked + a miracle in surgery, and by my publication will make you as the subject + of it famous for ever. And here you are trying to die and ruin everything. + I ask you—have you no human feelings left?” + </p> + <p> + At the conclusion of these lectures I would sigh and laugh, and stretch + out a thin hand. He shook it always with a humorous grumpiness which did + me more good than the prospect of acquiring fame in the annals of the <i>Ecole + de Medicine</i>. + </p> + <p> + Here am I, however, cured. I have thrown away the stick with which I first + began to limp about the garden, and I discourage Lola and Rogers in their + efforts to treat me as an invalid. Like the doctor, I have been longing to + escape from “this hole of an Algiers” and its painful associations, and, + when I was able to leave my room, it occurred to me that the sooner I + regained my strength the sooner should I be able to do so. Since then my + recovery has been rapid. The doctor is delighted, and slaps me on the + back, and points me out to Lola and the manager and the concierge and the + hoary old sinner of an Arab who displays his daggers, and trays, and + embroideries on the terrace, as a living wonder. I believe he would like + to put me in a cage and carry me about with him in Paris on exhibition. + But he is reluctantly prepared to part with me, and has consented to my + return in a few days' time, to England, by the North German Lloyd steamer. + He has ordered the sea voyage as a finishing touch to my cure. Good, + deluded man, he thinks that it is his fortuitous science that has dragged + me out of the Valley of the Shadow and set me in the Garden of Life. Good, + deluded man! He does not realise that he has been merely the tool of the + Arch-Jester. He has no notion of the sardonic joke his knife was chosen to + perpetrate. That naked we should come into the world, and naked we should + go out is a time-honoured pleasantry which, as far as the latter part of + it is concerned, I did my conscientious best to further; but that we + should come into it again naked at the age of eight-and-thirty is a piece + of irony too grim for contemplation. Yet am I bound to contemplate it. It + grins me in the face. Figuratively, I am naked. + </p> + <p> + Partly by my own act, and partly with the help of Destiny (the greater + jester than I) I have stripped myself of all these garments of life which + not only enabled me to strut peacock-fashion in the pleasant places of the + world, but also sheltered me from its inclemencies. + </p> + <p> + I had wealth—not a Rothschild or Vanderbilt fortune but enough to + assure me ease and luxury. I have stripped myself of it. I have but a + beggarly sum remaining at my bankers. Practically I am a pauper. + </p> + <p> + I had political position. I surrendered it as airily as I had achieved it; + so airily, indeed, that I doubt whether I could regain it even had I the + ambition. For it was a game that I played, sometimes fascinating, + sometimes repugnant to my fastidious sense of honourable dealing, for + which I shall never recapture the mood. Mood depends on conditions, and + conditions, as I am trying to show, are changed. + </p> + <p> + I had social position. I did not deceive myself as to its value in the + cosmic scheme, but it was one of the pleasant things to which I was born, + just as I was born to good food and wines and unpatched boots and the + morning hot water brought into my bedroom. I liked it. I suspect that it + has fled into eternity with the spirit of Captain Vauvenarde. The + penniless hero of an amazing scandal is not usually made an idol of by the + exclusive aristocracy of Great Britain. + </p> + <p> + I had a sweet and loyal woman about to marry me. I put Eleanor Faversham + for ever out of my life. + </p> + <p> + I had the devotion and hero-worship of a lad whom I thought to train in + the paths of honour, love and happiness. In his eyes I suppose I am an + unconscionable villain. + </p> + <p> + I have stripped myself of everything; and all because the medical faculty + of my country sentenced me to death. I really think the Royal Colleges of + Surgeons and Physicians ought to pay me an indemnity. + </p> + <p> + And not only have I stripped myself of everything, but I have incurred an + incalculable debt. I owe a woman the infinite debt of her love which I + cannot repay. She sheds it on me hourly with a lavishness which scares me. + But for her tireless devotion, the doctor tells me, I should not have + lived. But for her selfish forbearance, sympathy, and compassion I should + have gone as crazy as Anastasius Papadopoulos. Yet the burden of my debt + lies iceberg cold on my heart. Now that we are as intimate as man and + woman who are still only friends can be, she has lost the magnetic + attraction, that subtle mystery of the woman—half goddess, half + panther—which fascinated me in spite of myself, and made me jealous + of poor young Dale. Now that I can see things in some perspective, I + confess that, had I not been under sentence of death, and, therefore, + profoundly convinced that I was immune from all such weaknesses of the + flesh, I should have realised the temptation of languorous voice and + sinuous limbs, of the frank radiation of the animal enchanted as it was by + elusive gleams of the spiritual, of the Laisdom—in a word, of all + the sexual damnability of a woman which, as Francois Villon points out, + set Sardanapalus to spin among the women, David to forget the fear of God, + Herod to slay the Baptist, and made Samson lose his sight. Whether I + should have yielded to or resisted the temptation is another matter. + Honestly speaking, I think I should have resisted. + </p> + <p> + You see, I should still have been engaged to Eleanor Faversham. . . . But + now this somewhat unholy influence is gone from her. She has lifted me in + her strong arms as a mother would lift a brat of ten. She has patiently + suffered my whimsies as if I had been a sick girl. She has become to me + the mere great mothering creature on whom I have depended for custard and + the removal of crumbs and creases from under my body, and for support to + my tottering footsteps. The glamour has gone from before my eyes. I no + longer see her invested in her queer splendour. . . . + </p> + <p> + My invalid peevishness, too, has accentuated my sensitiveness to shades of + refinement. There is about Lola a bluffness, a hardihood of speech, a + contempt for the polite word and the pretty conventional turning of a + phrase, a lack of reticence in the expression of ideas and feelings, which + jar, in spite of my gratitude, on my unstrung nerves. Her ignorance, too, + of a thousand things, a knowledge of which is the birthright of such women + as Eleanor Faversham, causes conversational excursions to end in + innumerable blind alleys. I know that she would give her soul to learn. + This she has told me in so many words, and when, in a delicate way, I try + to teach her, she listens humbly, pathetically, fixing me with her great, + gold-flecked eyes, behind which a deep sadness burns wistfully. Sometimes + when I glance up from my book, I see that her eyes, instead of being bent + on hers have been resting long on my face, and they say as clearly as + articulate speech: “Teach me, love me, use me, do what you will with me. I + am yours, your chattel, your thing, till the end of time.” + </p> + <p> + I lie awake at night and wonder what I shall do with my naked life + sheltered only by the garment of this woman's love, which I have accepted + and cannot repay. I groan aloud when I reflect on the irremediable mess, + hash, bungle I have made of things. Did ever sick man wake up to such a + hopeless welter? Can you be surprised that I regarded it with dismay? Of + course, there is a simple way out of it, and into the shadowy world which + I contemplated so long, at first with mocking indifference and then with + eager longing. A gentleman called Cato once took it, with considerable + aplomb. The means are to my hand. In my drawer lies the revolver with + which the excellent Colonel Bunnion (long since departed from Mustapha + Superieur) armed me against the banditti of Algiers, and which I forgot to + return to him. I could empty one or more of the six chambers into my + person and that would be the end. But I don't think history records the + suicide of any humorist, however dismal. He knows too well the tricks of + the Arch-Jester's game. Very likely I should merely blow away half my + head, and Destiny would give my good doctor another chance of achieving + immortal fame by glueing it on again. No, I cannot think seriously of + suicide by violent means. Of course, I might follow the example of one + Antonios Polemon, a later Greek sophist, who suffered so dreadfully from + gout that he buried himself alive in the tomb of his ancestors and starved + to death. We have a family vault in Highgate Cemetery, of which I possess + the key. . . . No, I should be bored and cold, and the coffins would get + on my nerves; and besides, there is something suggestive of smug villadom + in the idea of going to die at Highgate. + </p> + <p> + Lola came up as I was scribbling this on my knees in the garden. + </p> + <p> + “What are you writing there?” + </p> + <p> + “I am recasting Hamlet's soliloquy,” I replied, “and I feel all the better + for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is your egg and brandy.” + </p> + <p> + I swallowed it and handed her back the glass. + </p> + <p> + “I feel all the better for that, too.” + </p> + <p> + As I sat in the shade of the little stone summer-house within the Greek + portico, she lingered in the blazing sunshine, a figure all glorious + health and supple curves, and the stray brown hairs above the brown mass + gleamed with the gold of a Giotto aureole. She stood, a duskily glowing, + radiant emblem of life against the background of spring greenery and + rioting convolvulus. I drew a full breath and looked at her as if + magnetised. I had the very oddest sensation. She seemed, in Shakespearean + phrase, to rain influence upon me. As if she read the stirrings of my + blood, she smiled and said: + </p> + <p> + “After all, confess, isn't it good to be alive?” + </p> + <p> + A thrill of physical well-being swept through me. I leaped to my feet. + </p> + <p> + “You witch!” I cried. “What are you doing to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I?” She retreated a step, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you. You are casting a spell on me, so that I may eat my words.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you are talking about, but you haven't answered my + question. It <i>is</i> good to be alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is,” I assented, losing all sense of consistency. + </p> + <p> + She flourished the egg-and-brandy glass. “I'm so glad. Now I know you are + really well, and will face life as you faced death, like the brave man + that you are.” + </p> + <p> + I cried to her to hold. I had not intended to go as far as that. I + confronted death with a smile; I meet life with the wriest of wry faces. + She would have none of my arguments. + </p> + <p> + “No matter how damnable it is—it's splendid to be alive, just to + feel that you can fight, just to feel that you don't care a damn for any + old thing that can happen, because you're strong and brave. I do want you + to get back all that you've lost, all that you've lost through me, and + you'll do it. I know that you'll do it. You'll just go out and smash up + the silly old world and bring it to your feet. You will, Simon, won't you? + I know you will.” + </p> + <p> + She quivered like an optimistic Cassandra. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Lola,” said I. + </p> + <p> + I was touched. I took her hand and raised it to my lips, whereat she + flushed like a girl. + </p> + <p> + “Did you come here to tell me all this?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied simply. “It came all of a sudden, as I was standing + here. I've often wanted to say it. I'm glad I have.” + </p> + <p> + She threw back her head and regarded me a moment with a strange, proud + smile; then turned and walked slowly away, her head brushing the long + scarlet clusters of the pepper trees. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + The other day, while looking through a limbo of a drawer wherein have been + cast from time to time a medley of maimed, half-soiled, abortive things, + too unfitted for the paradise of publication, and too good (so my vanity + will have it) for the damnation of the waste-paper basket, I came across, + at the very bottom, the manuscript of the preceding autobiographical + narrative, the last words of which I wrote at Mustapha Superieur three + years ago. At first I carried it about with me, not caring to destroy it + and not knowing what in the world to do with it until, with the malice of + inanimate things, the dirty dog's-eared bundle took to haunting me, + turning up continually in inconvenient places and ever insistently + demanding a new depository. At last I began to look on it with loathing; + and one day in a fit of inspiration, creating the limbo aforesaid, I + hurled the manuscript, as I thought, into everlasting oblivion. I had no + desire to carry on the record of my life any further, and there, in limbo, + it has remained for three years. But the other day I took it out for + reference; and now as I am holiday-making in a certain little backwater of + the world, where it is raining in a most unholiday fashion, it occurs to + me that, as everything has happened to me which is likely to happen + (Heaven knows I want no more excursions and alarums in my life's drama), I + may as well bring the narrative up to date. I therefore take up the + thread, so far as I can, from where I left off. + </p> + <p> + Lola, having nothing to do in Algiers, which had grown hateful to us both, + accompanied me to London. As, however, the weather was rough, and she was + a very bad sailor, I saw little of her on the voyage. For my own part, I + enjoyed the stormy days, the howling winds and the infuriated waves + dashing impotently over the steamer. They filled me with a sense of + conflict and of amusement. It is always good to see man triumphing over + the murderous forces of nature. It puts one in conceit with one's kind. + </p> + <p> + At Waterloo I handed Lola over to her maid, who had come to meet her, and, + leaving Rogers in charge of my luggage, I drove homeward in a cab. + </p> + <p> + It was only as I was crossing Waterloo Bridge and saw the dark mass of the + Houses of Parliament looming on the other side of the river, and the light + in the tower which showed that the House was sitting, that I began to + realise my situation. As exiles in desert lands yearn for green fields, so + yearned I for those green benches. In vain I represented to myself how + often I had yawned on them, how often I had cursed my folly in sitting on + them and listening to empty babble when I might have been dining cosily, + or talking to a pretty woman or listening to a comic opera, or performing + some other useful and soul-satisfying action of the kind; in vain I told + myself what a monument of futility was that building; I longed to be in it + and of it once again. And when I realised that I yearned for the + impossible, my heart was like a stone. For, indeed, I, Simon de Gex, with + London once a toy to my hand, was coming into it now a penniless + adventurer to seek my fortune. + </p> + <p> + The cab turned into the Strand, which greeted me as affably as a + pandemonium. Motor omnibuses whizzed at me, cabs rattled and jeered at me, + private motors and carriages passed me by in sleek contempt; policemen + regarded me scornfully as, with uplifted hand regulating the traffic, they + held me up; pavements full of people surged along ostentatiously showing + that they did not care a brass farthing for me; the thousands of lights + with their million reflections, from shop fronts, restaurants, theatres, + and illuminated signs glared pitilessly at me. A harsh roar of derision + filled the air, like the bass to the treble of the newsboys who yelled in + my face. I was wearing a fur-lined coat—just the thing a penniless + adventurer would wear. I had a valet attending to my luggage—just + the sort of thing a penniless adventurer would have. I was driving to the + Albany—just the sort of place where a penniless adventurer would + live. And London knew all this—and scoffed at me in stony + heartlessness. The only object that gave me the slightest sympathy was + Nelson on top of his column. He seemed to say, “After all, you <i>can't</i> + feel such a fool and so much out in the cold as I do up here.” + </p> + <p> + At Piccadilly Circus I found the same atmosphere of hostility. My cab was + blocked in the theatre-going tide, and in neighbouring vehicles I had + glimpses of fair faces above soft wraps and the profiles of moustached + young men in white ties. They assumed an aggravating air of ownership of + the blazing thoroughfare, the only gay and joyous spot in London. I, too, + had owned it once, but now I felt an alien; and the whole spirit of + Piccadilly Circus rammed the sentiment home—I was an alien and an + undesirable alien. I felt even more lost and friendless as I entered the + long, cold arcade (known as the Ropewalk) of the Albany. + </p> + <p> + I found my sister Agatha waiting for me in the library. I had telegraphed + to her from Southampton. She was expensively dressed in grey silk, and + wore the family diamonds. We exchanged the family kiss and the usual + incoherent greetings of our race. She expressed her delight at my + restoration to health and gave me satisfactory tidings of Tom Durrell, her + husband, of the children, and of our sister Jane. Then she shook her head + at me, and made me feel like a naughty little boy. This I resented. Being + the head of the family, I had always encouraged the deferential attitude + which my sisters, dear right-minded things, had naturally assumed from + babyhood. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Simon, what a time you've given us!” + </p> + <p> + She had never spoken to me like this in her life. + </p> + <p> + “That's nothing, my dear Agatha,” said I just a bit tartly, “to the time + I've given myself. I'm sorry for you, but I think you ought to be a little + sorry for me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am. More sorry than I can say. Oh, Simon, how could you?” + </p> + <p> + “How could I what?” I cried, unwontedly regardless of the refinements of + language. + </p> + <p> + “Mix yourself up in this dreadful affair?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear girl,” said I, “if you had got mixed up in a railway collision, I + shouldn't ask you how you managed to do it. I should be sorry for you and + feel your arms and legs and inquire whether you had sustained any internal + injuries.” + </p> + <p> + She is a pretty, spare woman with a bird-like face and soft brown hair + just turning grey; and as good-hearted a little creature as ever adored + five healthy children and an elderly baronet with disastrous views on + scientific farming. + </p> + <p> + “Dear old boy,” she said in milder accents, “I didn't mean to be unkind. I + want to be good to you and help you, so much so that I asked Bingley”—Bingley + is my housekeeper—“whether I could stay to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “That's good of you—but this magnificence——?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going on later to the Foreign Office reception.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do still mingle with the great and gorgeous?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? Why shouldn't I?” + </p> + <p> + I laughed, suspecting rightly that my sisters' social position had not + been greatly imperilled by the profligacy of their scandal-bespattered + brother. + </p> + <p> + “What are people saying about me?” I asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + She made a helpless gesture. “Can't you guess? You have told us the facts, + and, of course, we believe you; we have done our best to spread abroad the + correct version—but you know what people are. If they're told they + oughtn't to believe the worst, they're disappointed and still go on + believing it so as to comfort themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “You cynical little wretch!” said I. + </p> + <p> + “But it's true,” she urged. “And, after all, even if they were well + disposed, the correct version makes considerable demands on their faith. + Even Letty Farfax—” + </p> + <p> + “I know! I know!” said I. “Letty Farfax is typical. She would love to be + on the side of the angels, but as she wouldn't meet the best people there, + she ranges herself with the other party.” + </p> + <p> + Presently we dined, and during the meal, when the servants happened to be + out of the room, we continued, snippet-wise, the inconclusive + conversation. Like a good sister Agatha had come to cheer a lonely and + much abused man; like a daughter of Eve she had also come to find out as + much as she possibly could. + </p> + <p> + “I think I must tell you something which you ought to know,” she said. + “It's all over the town that you stole the lady from Dale Kynnersley.” + </p> + <p> + “If I did,” said I, “it was at his mother's earnest entreaty. You can tell + folks that. You can also tell them Madame Brandt is not the kind of woman + to be stolen by one man from another. She is a thoroughly virtuous, good, + and noble woman, and there's not a creature living who wouldn't be + honoured by her friendship.” + </p> + <p> + As I made this announcement with an impetuosity which reminded me (with a + twinge of remorse) of poor Dale's dithyrambics, Agatha shot at me a quick + glance of apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear Simon, she used to act in a circus with a horse!” + </p> + <p> + “I fail to see,” said I, growing angry, “how the horse could have imbued + her with depravity, and I'm given to understand that the tone of the + circus is not quite what it used to be in the days of the Empress + Theodora.” + </p> + <p> + A ripple passed over Agatha's bare shoulders, which I knew to be a + suppressed shrug. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose men and women look at these things differently,” she remarked, + and from the stiffness of her tone I divined that the idea of moral + qualities lurking in the nature of Lola Brandt occasioned her considerable + displeasure. + </p> + <p> + “I hope——” She paused. There was another ripple. “No. I had + better not say it. It's none of my business, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think it is, my dear,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Rogers bringing in the cutlets ended the snippet of talk. + </p> + <p> + It was not the cheeriest of dinners. I took advantage of the next interval + of quiet to inquire after Dale. I learned that the poor boy had almost + collapsed after the election and was now yachting with young Lord + Essendale somewhere about the Hebrides. Agatha had not seen him, but Lady + Kynnersley had called on her one day in a distracted frame of mind, + bitterly reproaching me for the unhappiness of her son. I should never + have suspected that such fierce maternal love could burn beneath Lady + Kynnersley's granite exterior. She accused me of treachery towards Dale + and, most illogically, of dishonourable conduct towards herself. + </p> + <p> + “She said things about you,” said Agatha, “for which, even if they were + true, I couldn't forgive her. So that's an end of that friendship. Indeed, + it has been very difficult, Simon,” she continued, “to keep up with our + common friends. It has placed us in the most painful and delicate + position. And now you're back, I'm afraid it will be worse.” + </p> + <p> + Thus under all Agatha's affection there ran the general hostility of + London. Guilty or not, I had offended her in her most deeply rooted + susceptibilities, and as yet she only knew half the imbroglio in which I + was enmeshed. Over coffee, however, she began to take a more optimistic + view of affairs. + </p> + <p> + “After all, you'll be able to live it down,” she said with a cheerful air + of patronage. “People soon forget. Before the year is out you'll be going + about just as usual, and at the General Election you'll find a seat + somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + I informed her that I had given up politics. What then, she asked, would I + do for an occupation? + </p> + <p> + “Work for my living,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Work?” She arched her eyebrows, as if it were the most extraordinary + thing a man could do. “What kind of work?” + </p> + <p> + “Road-sweeping or tax-collecting or envelope-addressing.” + </p> + <p> + She selected a cigarette from the silver box in front of her, and did not + reply until she had lit it and inhaled a puff or two. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you wouldn't be so flippant, Simon.” + </p> + <p> + From this remark I inferred that I still was in the criminal dock before + this lady Chief Justice. I smiled at the airs the little woman gave + herself now that I was no longer the impeccable and irreproachable + dictator of the family. Mine was the experience of every fallen tyrant + since the world began. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Agatha, I've had enough shocks during the last few weeks to knock + the flippancy out of a Congregational minister. In November I was + condemned to die within six months. The sentence was final and absolute. I + thought I would do the kind of good one can't do with a lifetime in front + of one, and I wasted all my substance in riotous giving. In the elegant + phraseology of high society I am stone-broke. As my training has not + fitted me to earn my living in high-falutin ways, I must earn it in some + humble capacity. Therefore, if you see me call at your house for the water + rate, you'll understand that I am driven to that expedient by necessity + and not by degradation.” + </p> + <p> + Naturally I had to elaborate this succinct statement before my sister + could understand its full significance. Then dismay overwhelmed her. + Surely something could be done. The fortunes of Jane and herself were at + my disposal to set me on my feet again. We were brother and sisters; what + was theirs was mine; they couldn't see me starve. I thanked her for her + affection—the dear creatures would unhesitatingly have let me play + ducks and drakes with their money, but I explained that though poor, I was + still proud and prized the independence of the tax-collector above the + position of the pensioner of Love's bounty. + </p> + <p> + “Tom must get you something to do,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + “Tom must do nothing of the kind. Let me say that once and for all,” I + returned peremptorily. “I've made my position clear to you, because you're + my sister and you ought to be spared any further misinterpretation of my + actions. But to have you dear people intriguing after billets for me would + be intolerable.” + </p> + <p> + “But what are you going to <i>do</i>?” she cried, wringing her hands. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going for my first omnibus ride to-morrow,” said I heroically. + </p> + <p> + Upon which assertion Rogers entered announcing that her ladyship's + carriage had arrived. A while later I accompanied her downstairs and along + the arcade. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be so miserable, thinking of you, poor old boy,” she said + affectionately, as she bade me good-bye. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, I am going to enjoy myself for the first time in my life.” + </p> + <p> + These were “prave 'orts,” but I felt doleful enough when I re-entered the + chambers where I had lived in uncomplaining luxury for fourteen years. + </p> + <p> + “There's no help for it,” I murmured. “I must get rid of the remainder of + my lease, sell my books and pictures and other more or less expensive + household goods, dismiss Rogers and Bingley, and go and live on thirty + shillings a week in a Bloomsbury boarding-house. I think,” I continued, + regarding myself in the Queen Anne mirror over the mantelpiece, “I think + that it will better harmonise with my fallen fortunes if I refrain from + waxing the ends of my moustache. There ought to be a modest droop about + the moustache of a tax-collector.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning I gave my servants a months' notice. Rogers, who had been + with me for many years, behaved in the correctest manner. He neither + offered to lend me his modest savings nor to work for me for no wages. He + expressed his deep regret at leaving my service and his confidence that I + would give him a good character. Bingley wept after the way of women. + There was also a shadowy housemaidy young person in a cap who used to make + meteoric appearances and whom I left to the diplomacy of Bingley. These + dismal rites performed, I put my chambers into the hands of a house agent + and interviewed a firm of auctioneers with reference to the sale. It was + all exceedingly unpleasant. The agent was so anxious to let my chambers, + the auctioneer so delighted at the chance of selling my effects, that I + felt myself forthwith turned neck and crop out of doors. It was a bright + morning in early spring, with a satirical touch of hope in the air. + London, no longer to be my London, maintained its hostile attitude to me. + If any one had prophesied that I should be a stranger in Piccadilly, I + should have laughed aloud. Yet I was. + </p> + <p> + Walking moodily up Saint James's street I met the omniscient and expansive + Renniker. He gave me a curt nod and a “How d'ye do?” and passed on. I felt + savagely disposed to slash his jaunty silk hat off with my walking-stick. + A few months before he would have rushed effusively into my arms and + bedaubed me with miscellaneous inaccuracies of information. At first I was + furiously indignant. Then I laughed, and swinging my stick, nearly wreaked + my vengeance on a harmless elderly gentleman. + </p> + <p> + It was my first experience of social ostracism. Although I curled a + contumelious lip, I smarted under the indignity. It was all very well to + say proudly “<i>io son' io</i>”; but <i>io</i> used to be a person of some + importance who was not cavalierly “how d'ye do'd” by creatures like + Renniker. This and the chance encounters of the next few weeks gave me + furiously to think. I knew that in one respect my sister Agatha was right. + These good folks who shied now at the stains of murder with which my + reputation was soiled would in time get used to them and eventually forget + them altogether. But I reflected that I should not forget, and I + determined that I should not be admitted on sufferance, as at first I + should have to be admitted, into any man's club or any woman's + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + One day Colonel Ellerton, Maisie Ellerton's father, called on me. He used + to be my very good friend; we sat on the same side of the House and voted + together on innumerable occasions in perfect sympathy and common lack of + conviction. He was cordial enough, congratulated me on my marvellous + restoration to health, deplored my absence from Parliamentary life, and + then began to talk confusedly of Russia. It took a little perspicacity to + see that something was weighing on the good man's mind; something he had + come to say and for his honest life could not get out. His plight became + more pitiable as the interview proceeded, and when he rose to go, he grew + as red as a turkey-cock and began to sputter. I went to his rescue. + </p> + <p> + “It's very kind of you to have come to see me, Ellerton,” I said, “but if + I don't call yet awhile to pay my respects to your wife, I hope you'll + understand, and not attribute it to discourtesy.” + </p> + <p> + I have never seen relief so clearly depicted on a human countenance. He + drew a long breath and instinctively passed his handkerchief over his + forehead. Then he grasped my hand. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” he cried, “of course we'll understand. It was a shocking + affair—terrible for you. My wife and I were quite bowled over by + it.” + </p> + <p> + I did not attempt to clear myself. What was the use? Every man denies + these things as a matter of course, and as a matter of course nobody + believes him. + </p> + <p> + Once I ran across Elphin Montgomery, a mysterious personage behind many + musical comedy enterprises. He is jewelled all over like a first-class + Hindoo idol, and is treated as a god in fashionable restaurants, where he + entertains riff-raff at sumptuous banquets. I had some slight acquaintance + with the fellow, but he greeted me as though I were a long lost intimate—his + heavy sensual face swagged in smiles—and invited me to a supper + party. I declined with courtesy and walked away in fury. He would not have + presumed to ask me to meet his riff-raff before I became disgustingly and + I suppose to some minds, fascinatingly, notorious. But now I was + hail-fellow-well-met with him, a bird of his own feather, a rogue of his + own kidney, to whom he threw open the gates of his bediamonded and + befrilled Alsatia. A pestilential fellow! As if I would mortgage my + birthright for such a mess of pottage. + </p> + <p> + So I stiffened and bade Society high and low go packing. I would neither + seek mine own people, nor allow myself to be sought by Elphin + Montgomery's. I enwrapped myself in a fine garment of defiance. My sister + Jane, who was harder and more worldly-minded than Agatha, would have had + me don a helmet of brass and a breastplate of rhinoceros hide and force my + way through reluctant portals; but Agatha agreed with me, clinging, + however, to the hope that time would not only reconcile Society to me, but + would also reconcile me to Society. + </p> + <p> + “If the hope comforts you, my dear Agatha,” said I, “by all means cherish + it. In the meantime, allow me to observe that the character of Ishmael is + eminently suited to the profession of tax-collecting.” + </p> + <p> + During these early days of my return the one person with whom I had no + argument was Lola. She soothed where others scratched, and stimulated + where others goaded. The intimacy of my convalescence continued. At first + I acquainted her, as far as was reasonably necessary, with my change of + fortune, and accepted her offer to find me less expensive quarters. The + devoted woman personally inspected every flat in London, with that + insistence of which masculine patience is incapable, and eventually + decided on a tiny bachelor suite somewhere in the clouds over a block of + flats in Victoria Street where the service is included in the rent. Into + this I moved with such of my furniture as I withdrew from the auctioneer's + hammer, and there I prepared to stay until necessity should drive me to + the Bloomsbury boarding-house. I thought I would graduate my descent. + Before I moved, however, she came to the Albany for the first and only + time to see the splendour I was about to quit. In a modest way it was + splendour. My chambers were really a large double flat to the tasteful + furnishing of which I had devoted the thought and interest of many years. + She went with me through the rooms. The dining-room was all Chippendale, + each piece a long-coveted and hunted treasure; the library old oak; the + drawing-room a comfortable and cunning medley. There were bits of old + china, pieces of tapestry, some rare prints, my choice collection of + mezzotints, a picture or two of value—one a Lancret, a very dear + possession. And there were my books—once I had a passion for rare + bindings. Every thing had to me a personal significance, and I hated the + idea of surrender more than I dared to confess even to myself. But I said + to Lola: + </p> + <p> + “Vanity of vanities! All things expensive are vanity!” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes glistened and she slipped her arm through mine and patted the + back of my hand. + </p> + <p> + “If you talk like that I shall cry and make a fool of myself,” she said in + a broken manner. + </p> + <p> + It is not so much the thing that is done or the thing that is said that + matters, but the way of doing or saying it. In the commonplace pat on the + hand, in the break in the commonplace words there was something that went + straight to my heart. I squeezed her arm and whispered: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, dear.” + </p> + <p> + This sympathy so sure and yet so delicately conveyed was mine for the + trouble of mounting the stairs that led to her drawing-room in Cadogan + Gardens. She seemed to be watching my heart the whole time, so that + without my asking, without my knowledge even, she could touch each sore + spot as it appeared, with the healing finger. For herself she made no + claims, and because she did not in any way declare herself to be unhappy, + I, after the manner of men, took her happiness for granted. For lives + there a man who does not believe that an uncomplaining woman has nothing + to complain of? It is his masculine prerogative of density. Besides, does + not he himself when hurt bellow like a bull? Why, he argues, should not + wounded woman do the same? So, when I wanted companionship, I used to sit + in the familiar room and make Adolphus, the Chow dog, shoulder arms with + the poker, and gossip restfully with Lola, who sprawled in her old + languorous, loose-limbed way among the cushions of her easy chair. + Gradually my habitual reserve melted from me, and at last I gave her my + whole confidence, telling her of my disastrous pursuit of eumoiriety, of + Eleanor Faversham, of the attitude of Society, in fact, of most of what I + have set down in the preceding pages. She was greatly interested in + everything, especially in Eleanor Faversham. She wanted to know the colour + of her eyes and hair and how she dressed. Women are odd creatures. + </p> + <p> + The weeks passed. + </p> + <p> + Besides ministering to my dilapidated spirit, Lola found occupation in + looking after the cattery of Anastasius Papadopoulos, which the little man + had left in the charge of his pupil and assistant, Quast. This Quast + apparently was a faithful, stolid, but unintelligent and incapable German + who had remained loyally at his post until Lola found him there in a state + of semi-starvation. The sum of money with which Anastasius had provided + him had been eked out to the last farthing. The cats were in a pitiable + condition. Quast, in despair, was trying to make up his dull mind whether + to sell them or eat them. Lola with superb feminine disregard of legal + rights, annexed the whole cattery, maintained Quast in his position of + pupil and assistant and informed the landlord that she would be + responsible for the rent. Then she set to work to bring the cats into + their proper condition of sleekness, and, that done, to put them through a + systematic course of training. They had been thoroughly demoralised, she + declared, under Quast's maladministration, and had almost degenerated into + the unhistrionic pussies of domestic life. As for Hephaestus, the great + ferocious tom, he was more like an insane tiger than a cat. He flew at the + gate over which he used to jump, and clawed and bit it to matchwood, and + after spitting in fury at the blazing hoop, sprang at the unhappy Quast as + if he had been the contriver of the indignities to which he was being + subjected. These tales of feline backsliding I used to hear from Lola, and + when I asked her why she devoted her energies to the unproductive + education of the uninspiring animals, she would shrug her shoulders and + regard me with a Giaconda smile. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place it amuses me. You seem to forget I'm a <i>dompteuse</i>, + a tamer of beasts; it's my profession, I was trained to it. It's the only + thing I can do, and it's good to feel that I haven't lost my power. It's + odd, but I feel a different woman when I'm impressing my will on these + wretched cats. You must come one of these days and see a performance, when + I've got them ship-shape. They'll astonish you. And then,” she would add, + “I can write to Anastasius and tell him how his beloved cats are getting + on.” + </p> + <p> + Well, it was an interest in her life which, Heaven knows, was not crowded + with exciting incidents. Now that I can look back on these things with a + philosophic eye, I can imagine no drearier existence than that of a + friendless, unoccupied woman in a flat in Cadogan Gardens. At that time, I + did not realise this as completely as I might have done. Because her old + surgeon friend, Sir Joshua Oldfield, now and then took her out to dinner, + I considered she was leading a cheerful if not a merry life. I smiled + indulgently at Lola's devotion to the cats and congratulated her on having + found another means whereby to beguile the <i>tedium vitae</i> which is + the arch-enemy of content. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could find such a means myself,” said I. + </p> + <p> + I not only had the wish, but the imperative need to so do. To stand like + Ajax defying the lightning is magnificent, but as a continuous avocation + it is wearisome and unprofitable, especially if carried on in a tiny + bachelor suite, an eyrie of a place, at the top of a block of flats in + Victoria Street. Indeed, if I did not add soon to the meagre remains of my + fortune, I should not be able to afford the luxury of the bachelor suite. + Conscious of this, I left the lightning alone, after a last denunciatory + shake of the fist, and descended into the busy ways of men to look for + work. + </p> + <p> + Thus I entered on the second stage of my career—that of a soldier of + Fortune. At first I was doubtful as to what path to glory and + bread-and-butter I could carve out for myself. Hitherto I had been + Fortune's darling instead of her mercenary, and she had most politely + carved out my paths for me, until she had played her jade's trick and left + me in the ditch. Now things were different. I stood alone, ironical, + ambitionless, still questioning the utility of human effort, yet + determined to play the game of life to its bitter end. What could I do? + </p> + <p> + It is true that I had been called to the Bar in my tentative youth, while + I drafted documents for my betters to pull to pieces and rewrite at the + Foreign Office; but I had never seen a brief, and my memories of Gaius, + Justinian, Williams's “Real Property,” and Austin's “Jurisprudence,” were + as nebulous as those of the Differential Calculus over whose facetiae I + had pondered during my schooldays. The law was as closed to me as + medicine. I had no profession. I therefore drifted into the one pursuit + for which my training had qualified me, namely, political journalism. I + had written much, in my amateur way, during my ten years' membership of + Parliament; why, I hardly know—not because I needed money, not + because I had thoughts which I burned to express, and certainly not + through vain desire of notoriety. Perhaps the motive was twofold, an + ingrained Puckish delight in the incongruous—it seemed incongruous + for an airy epicurean like myself to spend stodgy hours writing stodgier + articles on Pauper Lunacy and Poor Law Administration—and the same + inherited sense of gentlemanly obligation to do something for one's king + and country as made my ancestors, whether they liked it or not, clothe + themselves in uncomfortable iron garments and go about fighting other + gentlemen similarly clad, to their own great personal danger. At any rate, + it complemented my work at St. Stephen's, and doubtless contributed to a + reputation in the House which I did not gain through my oratory. I could + therefore bring to editors the stock-in-trade of a fairly accurate + knowledge of current political issues, an appreciation of personalities, + and a philosophical subrident estimate of the bubbles that are for ever + rising on the political surface. I found Finch of <i>The Universal Review</i>, + James of <i>The Weekly</i>, and one or two others more than willing to + give me employment. I put my pen also at the disposal of Raggles. It was + as uplifting and about as mechanical as tax-collecting; but it involved + less physical exertion and less unpleasant contact with my fellow + creatures. I could also keep the ends of my moustache waxed, which was a + great consolation. + </p> + <p> + My sister Agatha commended my courage and energy, and Lola read my + articles with a glowing enthusiasm, which compensated for lack of exact + understanding; but I was not proud of my position. It is one thing to + stand at the top of a marble staircase and in a debonair, jesting fashion + to fling insincere convictions to a recipient world. It is another to sell + the same worthless commodity for money. I began, to my curious discomfort, + to suspect that life had a meaning after all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + One day I had walked from Cadogan Gardens with a gadfly phrase of Lola's + tormenting my ears: + </p> + <p> + “You're not quite alive even yet.” + </p> + <p> + I had spent most of the day over a weekly article for James's high-toned + periodical, using the same old shibboleths, proclaiming Gilead to be the + one place for balm, juggling with the same old sophistries, and proving + that Pope must have been out of his mind when he declared that an honest + man was the noblest work of God, seeing that nobler than the most honest + man was the disingenuous government held up to eulogy; and I had gone + tired, dispirited, out of conceit with myself to Lola for tea and + consolation. I had not been the merriest company. I had spoken gloomily of + the cosmos, and when Adolphus the Chow dog had walked down the room in his + hind legs, I had railed at the futility of canine effort. To Lola, who had + put forth all her artillery of artless and harmless coquetry in voice and + gesture, in order to lure my thoughts into pleasanter ways, I exhibited + the querulous grumpiness of a spoiled village octogenarian. We discussed + the weather, which was worth discussing, for the spring, after long + tarrying, had come. It was early May. Lola laughed. + </p> + <p> + “The spring has got into my blood.” + </p> + <p> + “It hasn't got into mine,” I declared. “It never will. I wonder what the + deuce is the matter with me.” + </p> + <p> + Then Lola had said, “My dear Simon, I know. You're not quite alive even + yet.” + </p> + <p> + I walked homewards pestered by the phrase. What did she mean by it? I + stopped at the island round the clock-tower by Victoria Station and bought + a couple of newspapers. There, in the centre of the whirlpool where swam + dizzily omnibuses, luggage-laden cabs, whirling motors, feverish, + train-seeking humans, dirty newsboys, I stood absently saying to myself, + “You're not quite alive even yet.” + </p> + <p> + A hand gripped my arm and a cheery voice said “Hallo!” I started and + recognised Rex Campion. I also said “Hallo!” and shook hands with him. We + had not met since the days when, having heard of my Monte Cristo + lavishness, he had called at the Albany and had beguiled me into giving a + thousand pounds to his beloved “Barbara's Building,” the prodigious + philanthropic institution which he had founded in the slums of South + Lambeth. In spite of my dead and dazed state of being I was pleased to see + his saturnine black-bearded face, and to hear his big voice. He was one of + those men who always talked like a megaphone. The porticoes of Victoria + Station re-echoed with his salutations. I greeted him less vociferously, + but with equal cordiality. + </p> + <p> + “You're looking very fit. I head that you had gone through a miraculous + operation. How are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly well,” said I, “but I've been told that I'm not quite alive + even yet.” + </p> + <p> + He looked anxious. “Remains of trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a vestige,” I laughed. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” he said breezily. “Now come along and hear Milligan + speak.” + </p> + <p> + It did not occur to him that I might have work, worries, or engagements, + or that the evening's entertainment which he offered me might be the last + thing I should appreciate. His head, for the moment, was full of Milligan, + and it seemed to him only natural that the head of all humanity should be + full of Milligan too. I made a wry face. + </p> + <p> + “That son of thunder?” + </p> + <p> + Milligan was a demagogue who had twice unsuccessfully attempted to get + into Parliament in the Labour interest. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever heard him?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” said I in my pride. + </p> + <p> + “Then come. He's speaking in the Hall of the Lambeth Biblical Society.” + </p> + <p> + I was tempted, as I wanted company. In spite of my high resolve to + out-Ishmael Ishmael, I could not kill a highly developed gregarious + instinct. I also wanted a text for an article. But I wanted my dinner + still more. Campion condemned the idea of dinner. + </p> + <p> + “You can have a cold supper,” he roared, “like the rest of us.” + </p> + <p> + I yielded. Campion dragged me helpless to a tram at the top of Vauxhall + Bridge Road. + </p> + <p> + “It will do Your Mightiness good to mingle with the proletariat,” he + grinned. + </p> + <p> + I did not tell him that I had been mingling with it in this manner for + some time past or that I repudiated the suggestion of its benign + influence. I entered the tram meekly. As soon as we were seated, he began: + </p> + <p> + “I bet you won't guess what I've done with your thousand pounds. I'll give + you a million guesses.” + </p> + <p> + As I am a poor conjecturer, I put on a blank expression and shook my head. + He waited for an instant, and then shouted with an air of triumph: + </p> + <p> + “I've founded a prize, my boy—a stroke of genius. I've called it by + your name. 'The de Gex Prize for Housewives.' I didn't bother you about it + as I knew you were in a world of worry. But just think of it. An annual + prize of thirty pounds—practically the interest—for + housewives!” + </p> + <p> + His eyes flashed in his enthusiasm; he brought his heavy hand down on my + knee. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” I asked, not electrified by this announcement. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you see?” he exclaimed. “I throw the competition open to the women + in the district, with certain qualifications, you know—I look after + all that. They enter their names by a given date and then they start fair. + The woman who keeps her home tidiest and her children cleanest collars the + prize. Isn't it splendid?” + </p> + <p> + I agreed. “How many competitors?” + </p> + <p> + “Forty-three. And there they are working away, sweeping their floors and + putting up clean curtains and scrubbing their children's noses till they + shine like rubies and making their homes like little Dutch pictures. You + see, thirty pounds is a devil of a lot of money for poor people. As one + mother of a large family said to me, 'With that one could bury them all + quite beautiful.'” + </p> + <p> + “You're a wonderful fellow,” said I, somewhat enviously. + </p> + <p> + He gave an awkward laugh and tugged at his beard. + </p> + <p> + “I've only happened to find my job, and am doing it as well as I can,” he + said. “'Tisn't very much, after all. Sometimes one gets discouraged; + people are such ungrateful pigs, but now and again one does help a lame + dog over a stile which bucks one up, you know. Why don't you come down and + have a look at us one of these days? You've been promising to do so for + years.” + </p> + <p> + “I will,” said I with sudden interest. + </p> + <p> + “You can have a peep at one or two of the competing homes. We pop into + them unexpectedly at all hours. That's a part of the game. We've a + complicated system of marks which I'll show you. Of course, no woman knows + how she's getting on, otherwise many would lose heart.” + </p> + <p> + “How do the men like this disconcerting ubiquity of soap and water?” + </p> + <p> + “They love it!” he cried. “They're keen on the prize too. Some think + they'll grab the lot and have the devil's own drunk when the year's up. + But I'll look after that. Besides, when a chap has been living in the + pride of cleanliness for a year he'll get into the way of it and be less + likely to make a beast of himself. Anyway, I hope for the best. My God, de + Gex, if I didn't hope and hope and hope,” he cried earnestly, “I don't + know how I should get through anything without hope and a faith in the + ultimate good of things.” + </p> + <p> + “The same inconvincible optimist?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Thank heaven. And you?” + </p> + <p> + I paused. There came a self-revelatory flash. “At the present moment,” I + said, “I'm a perfectly convincible vacuist.” + </p> + <p> + We left the tram and the main thoroughfare, and turned into frowsy + streets, peopled with frowsy men and women and raucous with the bickering + play of frowsy children. It was still daylight. Over London the spring had + fluttered its golden pinions, and I knew that in more blessed quarters—in + the great parks, in Piccadilly, in Old Palace Yard, half a mile away—its + fragrance lingered, quickening blood already quickened by hope, and making + happier hearts already happy. But here the ray of spring had never + penetrated either that day or the days of former springs; so there was no + lingering fragrance. Here no one heeded the aspects of the changing year + save when suffocated by sweltering heat, or frozen in the bitter cold, or + drenched by the pouring rain. Otherwise in these gray, frowsy streets + spring, summer, autumn, winter were all the same to the grey, frowsy + people. It is true that youth laughed—pale, animal boys, and pale, + flat-chested girls. But it laughed chiefly at inane obscenity. + </p> + <p> + One of these days, when phonography is as practicable as photography, some + one will make accurate records in these frowsy streets, and then, after + the manner of the elegant writers of Bucolics and Pastorals, publish such + a series of Urbanics and Pavimentals, phonographic dialogues between the + Colins and Dulcibellas of the pavement and the gutter as will freeze up + Hell with horror. + </p> + <p> + An anemic, flirtatious group passed us, the girls in front, the boys + behind. + </p> + <p> + “Good God, Campion, what <i>can</i> you do?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Pay them, old chap,” he returned quickly. + </p> + <p> + “What's the good of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Good? Oh, I see!” He laughed, with a touch of scorn. “It's a question of + definition. When you see a fellow creature suffering and it shocks your + refined susceptibilities and you say 'poor devil' and pass on, you think + you have pitied him. But you haven't. You think pity's a passive virtue. + It isn't. If you really pity anybody, you go mad to help him—you + don't stand by with tears of sensibility running down your cheeks. You + stretch out your hand, because you've damn well got to. If he won't take + it, or wipes you over the head, that's his look-out. You can't work + miracles. But once in a way he does take it, and then—well, you work + like hell to pull him through. And if you do, what bigger thing is there + in the world than the salvation of a human soul?” + </p> + <p> + “It's worth living for,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “It's worth doing any confounded old thing for,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + I envied Campion as I had envied no man before. He was alive in heart and + soul and brain; I was not quite alive even yet. But I felt better for + meeting him. I told him so. He tugged his beard again and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I am a happy old crank. Perhaps that's the reason.” + </p> + <p> + At the door of the hall of the Lambeth Ethical Society he stopped short + and turned on me; his jaw dropped and he regarded me in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “I'm the flightiest and feather-headedest ass that ever brayed,” he + informed me. “I just remember I sent Miss Faversham a ticket for this + meeting about a fortnight ago. I had clean forgotten it, though something + uncomfortable has been tickling the back of my head all the time. I'm + miserably sorry.” + </p> + <p> + I hastened to reassure him. “Miss Faversham and I are still good friends. + I don't think she'll mind my nodding to her from the other side of the + room.” Indeed, she had written me one or two letters since my recovery + perfect in tact and sympathy, and had put her loyal friendship at my + service. + </p> + <p> + “Even if we meet,” I smiled, “nothing tragic will happen.” + </p> + <p> + He expressed his relief. + </p> + <p> + “But what,” I asked, “is Miss Faversham doing in this galley?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she is displaying an intelligent interest in modern thought,” + he said, with boyish delight at the chance I had offered him. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Touche</i>,” said I, with a bow, and we entered the hall. + </p> + <p> + It was crowded. The audience consisted of the better class of artisans, + tradesmen, and foremen in factories: there was a sprinkling of + black-coated clerks and unskilled labouring men. A few women's hats + sprouted here and there among the men's heads like weeds in a desert. + There were women, too, in proportionately greater numbers, on the platform + at the end of the hall, and among them I was quick to notice Eleanor + Faversham. As Campion disliked platforms and high places in synagogues, we + sat on one of the benches near the door. He explained it was also out of + consideration for me. + </p> + <p> + “If Milligan is too strong for your proud, aristocratic stomach,” he + whispered, “you can cut and run without attracting attention.” + </p> + <p> + Milligan had evidently just began his discourse. I had not listened to him + for five minutes when I found myself caught in the grip which he was + famous for fastening on his audience. With his subject—Nationalisation + of the Land—and his arguments I had been perfectly familiar for + years. As a boy I had read Henry George's “Progress and Poverty” with the + superciliousness of the young believer in the divine right of Britain's + landed gentry, and before the Eton Debating Society I had demolished the + whole theory to my own and every one else's satisfaction. Later, as a + practical politician, I had kept myself abreast of the Socialist movement. + I did not need Mr. John Milligan, whom my lingering flippancy had called a + son of thunder, to teach me the elements of the matter. But at this + peculiar crisis of my life I felt that, in a queer, unknown way, Milligan + had a message for me. It was uncanny. I sat and listened to the exposition + of Utopia with the rapt intensity of any cheesemonger's assistant there + before whose captured spirit floated the vision of days to come when the + land should so flow with milk and money that golden cheeses would be like + buttercups for the plucking. It was not the man's gospel that fascinated + me nor his illuminated prophecy of the millennium that produced the + vibrations in my soul, but the surging passion of his faith, the tempest + of his enthusiasm. I had enough experience of public speaking to + distinguish between the theatrical and the genuine in oratory. Here was no + tub-thumping soothsayer, but an inspired zealot. He lived his impassioned + creed in every fibre of his frame and faculties. He was Titanic, this + rough miner, in his unconquerable hope, divine in his yearning love of + humanity. + </p> + <p> + When he ended there was a dead silence for a second, and then a roar of + applause from the pale, earnest, city-stamped faces. A lump rose in my + throat. Campion clutched my knee. A light burned in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well? What about Boanerges?” + </p> + <p> + “Only one thing,” said I, “I wish I were as alive as that man.” + </p> + <p> + A negligible person proposed a vote of thanks to Milligan, after which the + hall began to empty. Campion, caught by a group of his proletariat + friends, signalled to me to wait for him. And as I waited I saw Eleanor + Faversham come slowly from the platform down the central gangway. Her eyes + fixed themselves on me at once—for standing there alone I must have + been a conspicuous figure, an intruder from the gorgeous West—and + with a little start of pleasure she hurried her pace. I made my way past + the chattering loiterers in my row, and met her. We shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “Well? Saul among the prophets? Who would have thought of seeing you + here!” + </p> + <p> + I waved my hand towards Campion. “We have the same sponsor.” She glanced + at him for a swift instant and then at me. + </p> + <p> + “Did you like it?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen Niagara?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you like it?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm so glad,” she cried. “I thought perhaps——” she broke off. + “Why haven't you tried to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “There are certain conventions.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” she said. “They're idiotic.” + </p> + <p> + “There's also Mrs. Faversham,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Mother is the dearest thing in life,” she replied, “but Mrs. Faversham is + a convention.” She came nearer to me, in order to allow a freer passage + down the gangway and also in order to be out of earshot of an elderly + woman who was obviously accompanying her. “Simon, I've been a good friend + to you. I believe in you. Nothing will shake my convictions. You couldn't + look into my eyes like that if—well—you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Then why can't two honourable, loyal people meet? We only need meet once. + But I want to tell you things I can't write—things I can't say here. + I also want to hear of things. I think I've got a kind of claim—haven't + I?” + </p> + <p> + “I've told you, Eleanor. My letters—” + </p> + <p> + “Letters are rubbish!” she declared with a laugh. “Where can we meet?” + </p> + <p> + “Agatha is a good soul,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Well, fix it up by telephone to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said I; “I don't run to telephones in my eagle's nest on Himalaya + Mansions.” + </p> + <p> + She knitted her brows. “That's not the last address you wrote from.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied, smiling at this glimpse of the matter-of-fact Eleanor. + “It was a joke.” + </p> + <p> + “You're incorrigible!” she said rebukingly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't joke so well in rags as in silken motley,” I returned with a + smile, “but I do my best.” + </p> + <p> + She disdained a retort. “We'll arrange, anyhow, with Agatha.” + </p> + <p> + Campion, escaping from his friends, came up and chatted for a minute. Then + he saw Eleanor and her companion to their carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he a moment later, “come to Barbara and have some supper. You + won't mind if Jenkins joins us?” + </p> + <p> + “Who's Jenkins?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Jenkins is an intelligent gas-fitter of Sociological tastes. He classes + Herbert Spencer, Benjamin Kidd, and Lombroso as light literature. He also + helps us with our young criminals. I should like you to meet him.” + </p> + <p> + “I should be delighted,” I said. + </p> + <p> + So Jenkins was summoned from a little knot a few yards off and duly + presented. Whereupon we proceeded to Campion's plain but comfortably + furnished quarters in Barbara's Building, where he entertained us till + nearly midnight with cold beef and cheese and strenuous conversation. + </p> + <p> + As I walked across Westminster Bridge on my homeward way it seemed as if + London had grown less hostile. Big Ben chimed twelve and there was a + distinct Dick Whittington touch about the music. The light on the tower no + longer mocked me. As I passed by the gates of Palace Yard, a policeman on + duty recognised me and saluted. I strode on with a springier tread and + noticed that the next policeman who did not know me, still regarded me + with an air of benevolence. A pale moon shone in the heavens and gave me + shyly to understand that she was as much my moon as any one else's. As I + turned into Victoria Street, omnibuses passed me with a lurch of + friendliness. The ban was lifted. I danced (figuratively) along the + pavement. + </p> + <p> + What it portended I did not realise. I was conscious of nothing but a + spiritual exhilaration comparable only with the physical exhilaration I + experienced in the garden at Algiers when my bodily health had been + finally established. As the body then felt the need of expressing itself + in violent action—in leaping and running (an impulse which I firmly + subdued), so now did my spirit crave some sort of expression in violent + emotion. I was in a mood for enraptured converse with an archangel. + </p> + <p> + Looking back, I see that Campion's friendly “Hallo” had awakened me from a + world of shadows and set me among realities; the impact of Milligan's + vehement personality had changed the conditions of my life from static to + dynamic; and that a Providence which is not always as ironical as it + pleases us to assert had sent Eleanor Faversham's graciousness to mitigate + the severity of the shock. I see how just was Lola's diagnosis. “You're + not quite alive even yet.” I had been going about in a state of suspended + spiritual animation. + </p> + <p> + My recovery dated from that evening. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + Agatha proved herself the good soul I had represented her to be. + </h3> + <p> + “Certainly, dear,” she said when I came the following morning with my + request. “You can have my boudoir all to yourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “I am grateful,” said I, “and for the first time I forgive you for calling + it by that abominable name.” + </p> + <p> + It was an old quarrel between us. Every lover of language picks out + certain words in common use that he hates with an unreasoning ferocity. + </p> + <p> + “I'll change it's title if you like,” she said meekly. + </p> + <p> + “If you do, my dear Agatha, my gratitude will be eternal.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember a certain superior person, when Tom and I were engaged, + calling mother's boudoir—the only quiet place in the house—the + osculatorium.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed with the air of a small bird who after long waiting had at + last got even with a hawk. But I did not even smile. For the only time in + our lives I considered that Agatha had committed a breach of good taste. I + said rather stiffly: + </p> + <p> + “It is not going to be a lovers' meeting, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + She flushed. “It was silly of me. But why shouldn't it be a lovers' + meeting?” she added audaciously. “If nothing had happened, you two would + have been married by this time—” + </p> + <p> + “Not till June.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you would. I should have seen about that—a ridiculously + long engagement. Anyhow, it was only your illness that broke it off. You + were told you were going to die. You did the only honourable and sensible + thing—both of you. Now you're in splendid health again—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, stop!” I interrupted. “You seem to be entirely oblivious of the + circumstances—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm oblivious of no circumstances. Neither is Eleanor. And if she still + cares for you she won't care twopence for the circumstances. I know I + wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + And to cut off my reply she clapped the receiver of the telephone to her + ear and called up Eleanor, with whom she proceeded to arrange a date for + the interview. Presently she screwed her head round. + </p> + <p> + “She says she can come at four this afternoon. Will that suit you?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” said I. + </p> + <p> + When she replaced the receiver I stepped behind her and put my hands on + her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “'The mother of mischief,'” I quoted, “'is no bigger than a midge's wing,' + and the grandmother is the match-making microbe that lurks in every + woman's system.” + </p> + <p> + She caught one of my hands and looked up into my face. + </p> + <p> + “You're not cross with me, Simon?” + </p> + <p> + Her tone was that of the old Agatha. I laughed, remembering the + policeman's salute of the previous night, and noted this recovery of my + ascendancy as another indication of the general improvement in the + attitude of London. + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, Tom Tit,” said I, calling her by her nursery name. “But I + absolutely forbid your thinking of playing Fairy Godmother.” + </p> + <p> + “You can forbid my playing,” she laughed, “and I can obey you. But you + can't prevent my thinking. Thought is free.” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes, my dear,” I retorted, “it is better chained up.” + </p> + <p> + With this rebuke I left her. No doubt, she considered a renewal of my + engagement with Eleanor Faversham a romantic solution of difficulties. I + could only regard it as preposterous, and as I walked back to Victoria + Street I convinced myself that Eleanor's frank offer of friendship proved + that such an idea never entered her head. I took vehement pains to + convince myself Spring had come; like the year, I had awakened from my + lethargy. I viewed life through new eyes; I felt it with a new heart. Such + vehement pains I was not capable of taking yesterday. + </p> + <p> + “It has never entered her head!” I declared conclusively. + </p> + <p> + And yet, as we sat together a few hours later in Agatha's little room a + doubt began to creep into the corners of my mind. In her strong way she + had brushed away the scandal that hung around my name. She did not believe + a word of it. I told her of my loss of fortune. My lunacy rather raised + than lowered me in her esteem. How then was I personally different from + the man she had engaged herself to marry six months before? I remembered + our parting. I remembered her letters. Her presence here was proof of her + unchanging regard. But was it something more? Was there a hope throbbing + beneath that calm sweet surface to which I did not respond? For it often + happens that the more direct a woman is, the more in her feminine heart is + she elusive. + </p> + <p> + Clean-built, clean-hearted, clean-eyed, of that clean complexion which + suggests the open air, Eleanor impressed you with a sense of bodily and + mental wholesomeness. Her taste in dress ran in the direction of plain + tailor-made gowns (I am told, by the way, that these can be fairly + expensive), and shrank instinctively from the frills and fripperies to + which daughters of Eve are notoriously addicted. She spoke in a clear + voice which some called hard, though I never found it so; she carried + herself proudly. Chaste in thought, frank in deed, she was a perfect + specimen of the highly bred, purely English type of woman who, looking at + facts squarely in the face, accepts them as facts and does not allow her + imagination to dally in any atmosphere wherein they may be invested. To + this type a vow is irrefragable. Loyalty is inherent in her like her + blood. She never changes. What feminine inconsistencies she had at fifteen + she retains at five-and-twenty, and preserves to add to the charms of her + old age. She is the exemplary wife, the great-hearted mother of children. + She has sent her sons in thousands to fight her country's battles + overseas. Those things which lie in the outer temper of her soul she gives + lavishly. That which is hidden in her inner shrine has to be wrested from + her by the one hand she loves. Was mine that hand? + </p> + <p> + It will be perceived that I was beginning to take life seriously. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor must have also perceived something of the sort; for during our + talk she said irrelevantly: + </p> + <p> + “You've changed!” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. You're not the same as you were. I seem to know you better + in some ways, and yet I seem to know you less. Why is it?” + </p> + <p> + I said, “No one can go through the Valley of the Grotesque as I have done + without suffering some change.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see why you should call it 'the Valley of the Grotesque.'” + </p> + <p> + I smiled at her instinctive rejection of the fanciful. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you? Call it the Valley of the Shadow, if you like. But don't you + think the attendant circumstances were rather mediaeval, gargoyley, + Orcagnesque? Don't you think the whole passage lacked the dignity which + one associates with the Valley of the Shadow of Death?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean the murder?” she said with a faint shiver. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said I, “might be termed the central feature. Just look at things + as they happened. I am condemned to death. I try to face it like a man and + a gentleman. I make my arrangements. I give up what I can call mine no + longer. I think I will devote the rest of my days to performing such acts + of helpfulness and charity as would be impossible for a sound man with a + long life before him to undertake. I do it in a half-jesting spirit, + refusing to take death seriously. I pledge myself to an act of helpfulness + which I regard at first as merely an incident in my career of beneficence. + I am gradually caught in the tangle of a drama which at times develops + into sheer burlesque, and before I can realise what is going to happen, it + turns into ghastly tragedy. I am overwhelmed in grotesque disaster—it + is the only word. Instead of creating happiness all around me, I have + played havoc with human lives. I stand on the brink and look back and see + that it is all one gigantic devil-jest at my expense. I thank God I am + going to die. I do die—for practical purposes. I come back to life + and—here I am. Can I be quite the same person I was a year ago?” + </p> + <p> + She reflected for a few moments. Then she said: + </p> + <p> + “No. You can't be—quite the same. A man of your nature would either + have his satirical view of life hardened into bitter cynicism or he would + be softened by suffering and face things with new and nobler ideals. He + would either still regard life as a jest—but instead of its being an + odd, merry jest it would be a grim, meaningless, hideous one; or he would + see that it wasn't a jest at all, but a full, wonderful, big reality. I've + expressed myself badly, but you see what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do you think has happened?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I think you have changed for the better.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled inwardly. It sounded rather dull. I said with a smile: + </p> + <p> + “You never liked my cap and bells, Eleanor.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” she replied emphatically. “What's the use of mockery? See where it + led you.” + </p> + <p> + I rose, half-laughing at her earnestness, half-ashamed of myself, and took + a couple of turns across the room. + </p> + <p> + “You're right,” I cried. “It led me to perdition. You might make an + allegory out of my career and entitle it 'The Mocker's Progress.'” I + paused for a second or two, and then said suddenly, “Why did you from the + first refuse to believe what everybody else does—before I had the + chance of looking you in the eyes?” + </p> + <p> + She averted her face. “You forget that I had had the chance of searching + deep beneath the mocker.” + </p> + <p> + I cannot, in reverence to her, set down what she said she found there. I + stood humbled and rebuked, as a man must do when the best in him is laid + out before his sight by a good woman. + </p> + <p> + A maidservant brought in tea, set the table, and departed, Eleanor drew + off her gloves and my glance fell on her right hand. + </p> + <p> + “It's good of you to wear my ring to-day,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “To-day?” she echoed, with the tiniest touch of injury in her voice. “Do + you think I put it on to just please you to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “It would have been gracious of you to do so,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't,” she declared. “It would have been mawkish and sentimental. + When we parted I told you to do what you liked with the ring. Do you + remember? You put it on this finger”—she waved her right hand—“and + there it has stayed ever since.” + </p> + <p> + I caught the hand and touched it lightly with my lips. She coloured + faintly. + </p> + <p> + “Two lumps of sugar and no milk, I think that's right?” She handed me the + tea-cup. + </p> + <p> + “It's like you not to have forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a practical person,” she replied with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + Presently she said, “Tell me more about your illness—or rather your + recovery. I know nothing except that you had a successful operation which + all the London surgeons said was impossible. Who nursed you?” + </p> + <p> + “I had a trained nurse,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Wasn't Madame Brandt with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I. “She was very good to me. In fact, I think I owe her my + life.” + </p> + <p> + Hitherto the delicacy of the situation had caused me to refer to Lola no + more than was necessary, and in my narrative I had purposely left her + vague. + </p> + <p> + “That's a great debt,” said Eleanor. + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “You're not the man to leave such a debt unpaid?” + </p> + <p> + “I try to repay it by giving Madame Brandt my devoted friendship.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes never wavered as they held mine. + </p> + <p> + “That's one of the things I wanted to know. Tell me something about her.” + </p> + <p> + I felt some surprise, as Eleanor was of a nature too proud for curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you want to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Because she interests me intensely. Is she young?” + </p> + <p> + “About thirty-two.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-looking?” + </p> + <p> + “She is a woman of remarkable personality.” + </p> + <p> + “Describe her.” + </p> + <p> + I tried, stumbled, and halted. The effort evoked in my mind a picture of + Lola lithe, seductive, exotic, with gold flecks in her dusky, melting + eyes, with strong shapely arms that had as yet only held me motherwise, + with her pantherine suggestion of tremendous strength in languorous + repose, with her lazy gestures and parted lips showing the wonderful white + even teeth, with all her fascination and charm—a picture of Lola + such as I had not seen since my emergence from the Valley—a picture + of Lola, generous, tender, wistful, strong, yielding, fragrant, lovable, + desirable, amorous—a picture of Lola which I could not put before + this other woman equally brave and straight, who looked at me composedly + out of her calm, blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + My description resolved itself into a loutish catalogue. + </p> + <p> + “It is not painful to you to talk of her, Simon?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. There are not many great-hearted women going about. It is my + privilege to know two.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I the other?” + </p> + <p> + “Who else?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you have the courage to class Madame Brandt and myself + together.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “It proves beyond a doubt that you are honest with me. Now tell me about a + few externals—things that don't matter—but help one to form an + impression. Is she educated?” + </p> + <p> + “From books, no; from observation, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Her manners?” + </p> + <p> + “Observation had educated them.” + </p> + <p> + “Accent?” + </p> + <p> + “She is sufficiently polyglot to have none.” + </p> + <p> + “She dresses and talks and behaves generally like a lady?” + </p> + <p> + “She does,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “In what way then does she differ from the women of our class?” + </p> + <p> + “She is less schooled, less reticent, franker, more natural. What is on + her tongue to say, she says.” + </p> + <p> + “Temper?” + </p> + <p> + “I have never heard her say an angry word to or of a human creature. She + has queer delicacies of feeling. For instance——” + </p> + <p> + I told her of Anastasius Papadopoulos's tawdry, gimcrack presents which + Lola has suffered to remain in her drawing-room so as not to hurt the poor + little wretch. + </p> + <p> + “That's very touching. Where does she live?” + </p> + <p> + “She has a flat in Cadogan Gardens.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she in London now?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like very much to know her,” she said calmly. + </p> + <p> + I vow and declare again that the more straightforward and open-eyed, the + less subtle, temperamental, and neurotic are women, the more are they + baffling. I had wondered for some time whither the catechism tended, and + now, with a sudden jerk, it stopped short at this most unexpected + terminus. It was startling. I rose and mechanically placed my empty + tea-cup on the tray by her side. + </p> + <p> + “The wish, my dear Eleanor,” said I, quite formally, “does great credit to + your heart.” + </p> + <p> + There was a short pause, marking an automatic close of the subject. Deeply + as I admired both women, I shrank from the idea of their meeting. It + seemed curiously indelicate, in view both of my former engagement to + Eleanor and of Lola's frank avowal of her feelings towards me before what + I shall always regard as my death. It is true that we had never alluded to + it since my resurrection; but what of that? Lola's feelings, I was sure, + remained unaltered. It also flashed on me that, with all the goodwill in + the world, Eleanor would not understand Lola. An interview would develop + into a duel. I pictured it for a second, and my sudden fierce partisanship + for Lola staggered me. Decidedly an acquaintance between these two was + preposterous. + </p> + <p> + The silence was definite enough to mark a period, but not long enough to + cause embarrassment. Eleanor commented on my present employment. I must + find it good to get back to politics. + </p> + <p> + “I find it to the contrary,” said I, with a laugh. “My convictions, always + lukewarm, are now stone-cold. I don't say that the principles of the party + are wrong. But they're wrong for me, which is all-important. If they are + not right for me, what care I how right they be? And as I don't believe in + those of the other side, I'm going to give up politics altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “What will you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I honestly don't. But I have an insistent premonition that + I shall soon find myself doing something utterly idiotic, which to me will + be the most real thing in life.” + </p> + <p> + I had indeed awakened that morning with an exhilarating thrill of + anticipation, comparable to that of the mountain climber who knows not + what panorama of glory may be disclosed to his eyes when he reaches the + summit. I had whistled in my bath—a most unusual thing. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to turn Socialist?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Qui lo sa</i>? I'm willing to turn anything alive and honest. It + doesn't matter what a man professes so long as he professes it with all + the faith of all his soul.” + </p> + <p> + I broke into a laugh, for the echo of my words rang comic in my ears. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you laugh?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think it funny to hear me talk like a two-penny Carlyle?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit,” she said seriously. + </p> + <p> + “I can't undertake to talk like that always,” I said warningly. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you said you were going to be serious.” + </p> + <p> + “So I am—but platitudinous—Heaven forbid!” + </p> + <p> + The little clock on the mantelpiece struck six. Eleanor rose in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “How the time has flown! I must be getting back. Well?” + </p> + <p> + Our eyes met. “Well?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Are we ever to meet again?” + </p> + <p> + “It's for you to say.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said. And then very distinctly, very deliberately, “It's for + you.” + </p> + <p> + I understood. She made the offer simply, nobly, unreservedly. My heart was + filled with great gratitude. She was so true, so loyal, so thorough. Why + could I not take her at her word? I murmured: + </p> + <p> + “I'll remember what you say.” + </p> + <p> + She put out her hand. “Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye and God bless you!” I said. + </p> + <p> + I accompanied her to the front door, hailed a passing cab, and waited till + she had driven off. Was there ever a sweeter, grander, more loyal woman? + The three little words had changed the current of my being. + </p> + <p> + I returned to take leave of Agatha. I found her in the drawing-room + reading a novel. She twisted her head sideways and regarded me with a + bird-like air of curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Eleanor gone?” + </p> + <p> + Her tone jarred on me. I nodded and dropped into a chair. + </p> + <p> + “Interview passed off satisfactorily?” + </p> + <p> + “We were quite comfortable, thank you. The only drawback was the tea. Why + a woman in your position can't give people China tea instead of that + Ceylon syrup will be a mystery to me to my dying day.” + </p> + <p> + She rose in her wrath and shook me. + </p> + <p> + “You're the most aggravating wretch on earth!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Tom-Tit,” said I gravely. “Remember the moral tale of Bluebeard.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Simon”—she planted herself in front of me—“I'm not + a bit inquisitive. I don't in the least want to know what passed between + you and Eleanor. But what I would give my ears to understand is how you + can go through a two hours' conversation with the girl you were engaged to—a + conversation which must have affected the lives of both of you—and + then come up to me and talk drivel about China tea and Bluebeard.” + </p> + <p> + “Once on a time, my dear,” said I, “I flattered myself on being an artist + in life. I am humbler now and acknowledge myself a wretched bungling + amateur. But I still recognise the value of chiaroscuro.” + </p> + <p> + “You're hopeless,” said Agatha, somewhat crossly. “You get more flippant + and cynical every day.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + I went home to my solitary dinner, and afterwards took down a volume of + Emerson and tried to read. I thought the cool and spacious philosopher + might allay a certain fever in my blood. But he did nothing of the kind. + He wrote for cool and spacious people like himself; not for corpses like + me revivified suddenly with an overcharge of vital force. I pitched him—how + much more truly companionable is a book than its author!—I pitched + him across the room, and thrusting my hands in my pockets and stretching + out my legs, stared in a certain wonder at myself. + </p> + <p> + I, Simon de Gex, was in love; and, <i>horribile dictu!</i> in love with + two women at once. It was Oriental, Mormonic, New Century, what you will; + but there it was. I am ashamed to avow that if, at that moment, both women + had appeared before me and said “Marry us,” I should have—well, + reflected seriously on the proposal. I had passed through curious enough + experiences, Heaven knows, already; but none so baffling as this. The two + women came alternately and knocked at my heart, and whispered in my ear + their irrefutable claims to my love. I listened throbbingly to each, and + to each I said, “I love you.” + </p> + <p> + I was in an extraordinary psychological predicament. Lola had remarked, + “You are not quite alive even yet.” I had come to complete life too + suddenly. This was the result. I got up and paced the bird-cage, which the + house-agents termed a reception-room, and wondered whether I were going + mad. It was not as if one woman represented the flesh and the other the + spirit. Then I might have seen the way to a decision. But both had the + large nature that comprises all. I could not exalt one in any way to the + abasement of the other. All my inherited traditions, prejudices, + predilections, all my training ranged me on the side of Eleanor. I was + clamouring for the real. Was she not the incarnation of the real? Her very + directness piqued me to a perverse and delicious obliquity. And I knew, as + I knew when I parted from her months before, that it was only for me to + awaken things that lay virginally dormant. On the other hand stood Lola, + with her magnetic seduction, her rich atmosphere, her great wide + simplicity of heart, holding out arms into which I longed to throw myself. + </p> + <p> + It was monstrous, abnormal. I hated the abominable indelicacy of weighing + one against the other, as I had hated the idea of their meeting. + </p> + <p> + I paced my bird-cage until it shrank to the size of a rat-trap. Then I + clapped on my hat and fled down into the streets. I jumped into the first + cab I saw and bade the driver take me to Barbara's Building. Campion + suddenly occurred to me as the best antidote to the poison that had + entered my blood. + </p> + <p> + I found him alone, clearing from the table the remains of supper. In spite + of his soul's hospitable instincts, he stared at me. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what the——?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. You're surprised to see me bursting in on you like a wild + animal. I'm not going to do it every night, but this evening I claim a bit + of our old friendship.” + </p> + <p> + “Claim it all, my dear de Gex!” he said cordially. “What can I do for + you?” + </p> + <p> + It was characteristic of Campion to put his question in that form. + Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have asked what was the matter with + me. But Campion, who all his life had given, wanted to know what he could + co. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me fairy tales of Lambeth and idylls of the Waterloo Bridge Road. Or + light your pipe and talk to me of Barbara.” + </p> + <p> + He folded up the tablecloth and put it in the sideboard drawer. + </p> + <p> + “If it's elegant distraction you want,” said he, “I can do better than + that.” He planted himself in front of me. “Would you like to do a night's + real work?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “A gentleman of my acquaintance named Judd is in the ramping stage of <i>delirium + tremens</i>. He requires a couple of men to hold him down so as to prevent + him from getting out of bed and smashing his furniture and his wife and + things. I was going to relieve one of the fellows there now, so that he + can get a few hours' sleep, and if you like to come and relieve the other, + you'll be doing a good action. But I warn you it won't be funny.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm in the mood for anything,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “You'll come?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “That's splendid!” he shouted. “I hardly thought you were in earnest. Wait + till I telephone for some medicine to be sent up from the dispensary. I + promised to take it round with me.” + </p> + <p> + He telephoned instructions, and presently a porter brought in the + medicine. Campion explained that it had been prescribed by the doctor + attached to the institution who was attending the case. + </p> + <p> + “You must come and see the working of our surgery and dispensary!” he + cried enthusiastically. “We charge those who can afford a sixpence for + visit and medicine. Those who can't are provided, after inquiry, with + coupons. We don't want to encourage the well-to-do to get their medical + advice gratis, or we wouldn't be able to cope with the really poor. We pay + the doctor a fixed salary, and the fees go to the general fund of the + Building, so it doesn't matter a hang to him whether a patient pays or + not.” + </p> + <p> + “You must be proud of all this, Campion?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “In a way,” he replied, lighting his pipe; “but it's mainly a question of + money—my poor old father's money which he worked for, not I.” + </p> + <p> + I reminded him that other sons had been known to put their poor old + father's money to baser uses. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose Barbara is more useful to the community that steam yachts or + racing stables; but there, you see, I hate yachting because I'm always + sea-sick, and I scarcely know which end of a horse you put the bridle on. + Every man to his job. This is mine. I like it.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder whether holding down people suffering from <i>delirium tremens</i> + is my job,” said I. “If so, I'm afraid I shan't like it.” + </p> + <p> + “If it's really your job,” replied Campion, “you will. You must. You can't + help it. God made man so.” + </p> + <p> + It was only an hour or two later when, for the first time in my life, I + came into practical touch with human misery, that I recognised the truth + of Campion's perfervid optimism. No one could like our task that night in + its outer essence. For a time it revolted me. The atmosphere of the close, + dirty room, bedroom, kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, bathroom, laundry—all + in one, the home of man, wife and two children, caught me by the throat. + It was sour. The physical contact with the flesh of the unclean, + gibbering, shivering, maniacal brute on the foul bed was unutterably + repugnant to me. Now and again, during intervals of comparative calm, I + was forced to put my head out of the window to breathe the air of the + street. Even that was tainted, for a fried-fish shop across the way and a + public-house next door billowed forth their nauseating odours. After a + while access to the window was denied me. A mattress and some rude + coverings were stretched beneath it—the children's bed—on + which we persuaded the helpless, dreary wife to lie down and try to rest. + A neighbour had taken in the children for the night. The wife was a + skinny, grey-faced, lined woman of six-and-twenty. In her attitude of + hopeless incompetence she shed around her an atmosphere of unspeakable + depression. Although I could not get to the window, I was glad when she + lay down and spared me the sight of her moving fecklessly about the room + or weeping huddled up on a broken-backed wooden chair and looking more + like a half-animated dish-clout than a woman. + </p> + <p> + The poor wretch on the bed was a journeyman tailor who, when sober, could + earn fair wages. The cry of the wife, before Campion awed her into + comparative silence, was a monotonous upbraiding of her husband for + bringing them down to this poverty. It seemed impossible to touch her + intelligence and make her understand that no words from her or any one + could reach his consciousness. His violence, his screams, his threats, the + horrors of his fear left her unmoved. We were there to guard her from + physical danger, and that to her was all that mattered. + </p> + <p> + In the course of an hour or so the nausea left me. I felt braced by the + grimness of the thing, and during the paroxysms I had no time to think of + anything but the mechanical work in hand. It was all that Campion and I, + both fairly able-bodied men, could do to keep the puny little tailor in + his bed. Horrible shapes menaced him from which he fought madly to escape. + He writhed and shrieked with terror. Once he caught my hand in his teeth + and bit it, and Campion had some difficulty in relaxing the wretch's jaw. + Between the paroxysms Campion and I sat on the bed watching him, scarcely + exchanging a word. The wife, poor creature, whimpered on her mattress. It + was not a pleasant vigil. It lasted till the grey dawn crept in, + pitilessly intensifying the squalor of the room, and until the dawn was + broadening into daylight. Then two of Campion's men from Barbara's + Building arrived to relieve us. Before we went, however, the neighbour who + had taken charge of the children came in to help the slatternly wife light + a fire and make some tea. I have enjoyed few things more than the warm, + bitter stuff which I drank out of the broken mug in that strange and + depressing company. + </p> + <p> + I went out into the street with racked head and nerves and muscles. + Campion kept his cloth cap in his hand, allowing the morning wind to + ruffle his shaggy black hair, and drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “I think the worst is over now. As soon as he can be moved, I'll get him + down to the annexe at Broadstairs. The sea air will pull him round.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it rather hopeless?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + He turned on me. “Nothing's hopeless. If you once start the hopeless game + down here you'd better distribute cyanide of potassium instead of coals + and groceries. I've made up my mind to get that man decent again, and, by + George, I'm going to do it! Fancy those two weaklings producing healthy + offspring. But they have. Two of the most intelligent kids in the + district. If you hold up your hands and say it's awful to contemplate + their upbringing you're speaking the blatant truth. It's the contemplation + that's awful. But why contemplate when you can do something?” + </p> + <p> + I admitted the justice of the remark. He went on. + </p> + <p> + “Look at yourself now. If you had gone in with me last night and just + stared at the poor devil howling with D.T. in that filthy place, you'd + have come out sick and said it was awful. Instead of that, you buckled to + and worked and threw off everything save our common humanity, and have got + interested in the Judds in spite of yourself. You'll go and see them again + and do what you can for them, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + I was not in a merry mood, but I laughed. Campion had read the intention + that had vaguely formulated itself in the back of my mind. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I will,” I said. + </p> + <p> + We walked on a few steps down the still silent, disheartening street + without speaking. Then he tugged his beard, half-halted, and glanced at me + quickly. + </p> + <p> + “See here,” said he, “the more sensible people I can get in to help us the + better. Would you like me to hand you over the Judd family <i>en bloc</i>?” + </p> + <p> + This was startling to the amateur philanthropist. But it is the way of all + professionals to regard their own business as of absorbing interest to the + outside world. The stockbroking mind cannot conceive a sane man + indifferent to the fluctuations of the money market, and to the + professional cricketer the wide earth revolves around a wicket. How in the + world could I be fairy godfather to the Judd family? Campion took my + competence for granted. + </p> + <p> + “You may not understand exactly what I mean, my dear Campion,” said I; + “but I attribute the most unholy disasters of my life to a ghastly attempt + of mine to play Deputy Providence.” + </p> + <p> + “But who's asking you to play Deputy Providence?” he shouted. “It's the + very last idiot thing I want done. I want you to do certain definite + practical work for that family under the experienced direction of the + authorities at Barbara's Building. There, do you understand now?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I'll do anything you like.” + </p> + <p> + Thus it befell that I undertook to look after the moral, material, and + spiritual welfare of the family of an alcoholic tailor by the name of Judd + who dwelt in a vile slum in South Lambeth. My head was full of the + prospect when I awoke at noon, for I had gone exhausted to sleep as soon + as I reached home. If goodwill, backed by the experience of Barbara's + Building, could do aught towards the alleviation of human misery, I + determined that it should be done. And there was much misery to be + alleviated in the Judd family. I had no clear notion of the means whereby + I was to accomplish this; but I knew that it would be a philanthropic + pursuit far different from my previous eumoirous wanderings abut London + when, with a mind conscious of well-doing, I distributed embarrassing + five-pound notes to the poor and needy. + </p> + <p> + I had known—what comfortable, well-fed gentleman does not?—that + within easy walking distance of his London home thousands of human beings + live like the beasts that perish; but never before had I spent an intimate + night in one of the foul dens where the living and perishing take place. + The awful pity of it entered my soul. + </p> + <p> + So deeply was I impressed with the responsibility of what I had + undertaken, so grimly was I haunted by the sight of the pallid, howling + travesty of a man and the squeezed-out, whimpering woman, that the memory + of the conflicting emotions that had driven me to Campion the night before + returned to me with a shock. + </p> + <p> + “It strikes me,” I murmured, as I shaved, “that I am living very intensely + indeed. Here am I in love with two women at once, and almost hysterically + enthusiastic over a delirious tailor.” Then I cut my cheek and murmured no + more, until the operation was concluded. + </p> + <p> + I had arranged to accompany Lola that afternoon to the Zoological Gardens. + This was a favourite resort of hers. She was on intimate terms with + keepers and animals, and her curious magnetism allowed her to play such + tricks with lions and tigers and other ferocious beasts as made my blood + run cold. As for the bears, they greeted her approach with shrieking + demonstrations of affection. On such occasions I felt the same curious + physical antipathy as I did when she had dominated Anastasius's + ill-conditioned cat. She seemed to enter another sphere of being in which + neither I nor anything human had a place. + </p> + <p> + With some such dim thoughts in my head, I reached her door in Cadogan + Gardens. The sight of her electric brougham that stood waiting switched my + thoughts into another groove, but one running oddly parallel. Electric + broughams also carried her out of my sphere. I had humbly performed the + journey thither in an omnibus. + </p> + <p> + She received me in her big, expansive way. + </p> + <p> + “Lord! How good it is to see you. I was getting the—I was going to + say 'the blind hump'—but you don't like it. I was going to turn + crazy and bite the furniture.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” I asked with masculine directness. + </p> + <p> + “I've been trying to educate myself—to read poetry. Look here”—she + caught a small brown-covered octavo volume from the table. “I can't make + head or tail of it. It proved to me that it was no use. If I couldn't + understand poetry, I couldn't understand anything. It was no good trying + to educate myself. I gave it up. And then I got what you don't like me to + call the hump.” + </p> + <p> + “You dear Lola!” I cried, laughing. “I don't believe any one has ever made + head or tail out of 'Sordello.' There once was a man who said there were + only two intelligible lines in the poem—the first and the last—and + that both were lies. 'Who will, may hear Sordello's story told,' and 'Who + would, has heard Sordello's story told.' Don't worry about not + understanding it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “That's a comfort,” she said, with a generous sigh of relief. “How well + you're looking!” she cried suddenly. “You're a different man. What have + you been doing to yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I've grown quite alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Delightful! So am I. Quite alive now, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + She looked it, in spite of the black outdoor costume. But there was a dash + of white at her throat and some white lilies of the valley in her bosom, + and a white feather in her great black hat poised with a Gainsborough + swagger on the mass of her bronze hair. + </p> + <p> + “It's the spring,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I, “it's the spring.” + </p> + <p> + She approached me and brushed a few specks of dust from my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “You want a new suit of clothes, Simon.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” said I, glancing hastily over the blue serge suit in which I + had lounged at Mustapha Superieur. “I suppose I do.” + </p> + <p> + It occurred to me that my wardrobe generally needed replenishing. I had + been unaccustomed to think of these things, the excellent Rogers and his + predecessors having done most of the thinking for me. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go to Poole's at once,” said I. + </p> + <p> + And then it struck me, to my whimsical dismay, that in the present + precarious state of my finances, especially in view of my decision to + abandon political journalism in favour of I knew not what occupation, I + could not afford to order clothes largely from a fashionable tailor. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't have mentioned it,” said Lola apologetically, “but you're + always so spick and span.” + </p> + <p> + “And now I'm getting shabby!” + </p> + <p> + I threw back my head and laughed at the new and comical conception of + Simon de Gex down at heel. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not shabby!” echoed Lola. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear. The days of purple and fine linen are <i>vorbei</i>. You'll + have to put up with me in a threadbare coat and frayed cuffs and ragged + hems to my trousers.” + </p> + <p> + Lola declared that I was talking rubbish. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite such rubbish as you may think, my dear. Shall you mind?” + </p> + <p> + “It would break my heart. But why do you talk so? You can't be—as + poor—as that?” + </p> + <p> + Her face manifested such tragic concern that I laughed. Besides, the idea + of personal poverty amused me. When I gave up my political work I should + only have what I had saved from my wreck—some two hundred a year—to + support me until I should find some other means of livelihood. It was + enough to keep me from starvation, and the little economies I had begun to + practise afforded me enjoyment. On the other hand, how folks regulated + their balance-sheets so as to live on two hundred a year I had but a dim + notion. In the course of our walk from Barbara's Building to the Judds the + night before I had asked Campion. He had laughed somewhat grimly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I don't run an asylum for spendthrift plutocrats; but if + you want to see how people live and bring up large families on fifteen + shillings a week, I can show you heaps of examples.” + </p> + <p> + This I felt would, in itself, be knowledge of the deepest interest; but it + would in no way aid me to solve my own economic difficulty. I was always + being brought up suddenly against the problem in some form or another, + and, as I say, it caused me considerable amusement. + </p> + <p> + “I shall go on happily enough,” said I, reassuringly. “In the meantime let + us go and see the lions and tigers.” + </p> + <p> + We started. The electric brougham glided along comfortably through the + sunlit streets. A feeling of physical and spiritual content stole over me. + Our hands met and lingered a long time in a sympathetic clasp. Whatever + fortune held in store for me here at least I had an inalienable + possession. For some time we said nothing, and when our eyes met she + smiled. I think she had never felt my heart so near to hers. At last we + broke the silence and talked of ordinary things. I told her of my vigil + overnight and my undertaking to look after the Judds. She listened with + great interest. When I had finished my tale, she said almost passionately: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish I could do something like that!” + </p> + <p> + “You?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? I came from those people. My grandfather swept the cages in + Jamrach's down by the docks. He died of drink. He used to live in one + horrible, squalid room near by. I remember my father taking me to see him + when I was a little girl—we ourselves weren't very much better off + at that time. I've been through it,” she shivered. “I know what that awful + poverty is. Sometimes it seems immoral of me to live luxuriously as I do + now without doing a hand's turn to help.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Chacun a son metier</i>, my dear,” said I. “There's no need to + reproach yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “But I think it might be my <i>metier</i>,” she replied earnestly, “if + only I could learn it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why haven't you tried, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I've been lazy and the opportunity hasn't come my way.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll introduce you to Campion,” I said, “and doubtless he'll be able to + find something for you to do. He has made a science of the matter. I'll + take you down to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said I. There was a pause. Then an idea struck me. “I wonder, + my dear Lola, whether you could apply that curious power you have over + savage animals to the taming of the more brutal of humans.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” she said thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see you seize a drunken costermonger in the act of + jumping on his wife by the scruff of the neck, and reduce him to such pulp + that he sat up on his tail and begged.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Simon!” she exclaimed reproachfully. “I quite thought you were + serious.” + </p> + <p> + “So I am, my dear,” I returned quickly, “as serious as I can be.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “Do you remember the first day you came to see me? You said + that I could train any human bear to dance to whatever tune I pleased. I + wonder if the same thought was at the back of your head.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't. It was a bad and villainous thought. I came under the + impression that you were a dangerous seductress.” + </p> + <p> + “And I'm not?” + </p> + <p> + Oh, that spring day, that delicious tingle in the air, that laughing + impertinence of the budding trees in the park through which we were then + driving, that enveloping sense of fragrance and the nearness and the + dearness of her! Oh, that overcharge of vitality! I leaned my head to hers + so that my lips nearly touched her ear. My voice shook. + </p> + <p> + “You're a seductress and a witch and a sorcerer and an enchantress.” + </p> + <p> + The blood rose to her dark face. She half closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What else am I?” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + But, alas! I had not time to answer, for the brougham stopped at the gates + of the Zoological Gardens. We both awakened from our foolishness. My hand + was on the door-handle when she checked me. + </p> + <p> + “What's the good of a mind if you can't change it? I don't feel in a mood + for wild beasts to-day, and I know you don't care to see me fooling about + with them. I would much rather sit quiet and talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + With a woman who wants to sacrifice herself there is no disputing. + Besides, I had no desire to dispute. I acquiesced. We agreed to continue + our drive. + </p> + <p> + “We'll go round by Hampstead Heath,” she said to the chauffeur. As soon as + we were in motion again, she drew ever so little nearer and said, in her + lowest, richest notes, and with a coquetry that was bewildering on account + of its frankness: + </p> + <p> + “What were we talking of before we pulled up?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what we were talking of,” I said, “but we seem to have + trodden on the fringe of a fairy-tale.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't we tread on it again?” She laughed happily. + </p> + <p> + “You have only to cast the spell of your witchery over me again.” + </p> + <p> + She drew yet a little nearer and whispered: “I'm trying to do it as hard + as I can.” + </p> + <p> + An adorable softness came into her eyes, and her hand instinctively closed + round mine in its boneless clasp. The long pent-up longing of the woman + vibrated from her in waves that shook me to my soul. My senses swam. Her + face quivered glorious before me in a black world. Her lips were parted. + Careless of all the eyes in all the houses in the Avenue Road, St. John's + Wood, and in the head of a telegraph boy whom I only noticed afterwards, I + kissed her on the lips. + </p> + <p> + All the fulness and strength of life danced through my veins. + </p> + <p> + “I told you I was quite alive!” I said with idiotic exultation. + </p> + <p> + She closed her eyes and leaned back. “Why did you do that?” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Because I love you,” said I. “It has come at last.” + </p> + <p> + Where we drove I have no recollection. Presumably an impression of green + rolling plain with soft uplands in the distance signified that we passed + along Hampstead Heath; the side thoroughfare with villa residences on + either side may have been Kilburn High Road; the flourishing, busy, noisy + suburb may have been Kilburn: the street leading thence to the Marble Arch + may have been Maida Vale. To me they were paths in Dreamland. We spoke but + little and what we did say was in the simple, commonplace language which + all men use in the big crises of life. + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt now of my choice. I loved her. Love had come to me at + last. That was all I knew at that hour and all I cared to know. + </p> + <p> + Lola was the first to awake from Dreamland. She shivered. I asked whether + she felt cold. + </p> + <p> + “No. I can't believe that you love me. I can't. I can't.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled in a masterful way. “I can soon show you that I do.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “I'm afraid, Simon, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “What of?” + </p> + <p> + “Myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't tell you. I can't explain. I don't know how to. I've been wrong—horribly + wrong. I'm ashamed.” + </p> + <p> + She gripped her hands together and looked down at them. I bent forward so + as to see her face, which was full of pain. + </p> + <p> + “But, dearest of all women,” I cried, “what in the world have you to be + ashamed of?” + </p> + <p> + She paused, moistened her lips with her tongue, and then broke out: + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you. A decent lady like your Eleanor Faversham wouldn't tell. + But I can't keep these things in. Didn't you begin by saying I was a + seductress? No, no, let me talk. Didn't you say I could make a man do what + I wanted? Well, I wanted you to kiss me. And now you've done it, you think + you love me; but you don't, you can't.” + </p> + <p> + “You're talking the wickedest nonsense that ever proceeded out of the lips + of a loving woman,” I said aghast. “I repeat in the most solemn way that I + love you with all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “In common decency you couldn't say otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + Again I saw the futility of disputation. I put my hand on hers. + </p> + <p> + “Time will show, dear. At any rate, we have had our hour of fairyland.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish we hadn't,” she said. “Don't you see it was only my sorcery, as + you call it, that took us there? I meant us to go.” + </p> + <p> + At last we reached Cadogan Gardens. I descended and handed her out, and we + entered the hall of the mansions. The porter stood with the lift-door + open. + </p> + <p> + “I'm coming up to knock all this foolishness out of your head.” + </p> + <p> + “No, don't, please, for Heaven's sake!” she whispered imploringly. “I must + be alone—to think it all out. It's only because I love you so. And + don't come to see me for a day or two—say two days. This is + Wednesday. Come on Friday. You think it over as well. And if it's really + true—I'll know then—when you come. Good-bye, dear. Make Gray + drive you wherever you want to go.” + </p> + <p> + She wrung my hand, turned and entered the lift. The gates swung to and she + mounted out of sight. I went slowly back to the brougham, and gave the + chauffeur the address of my eyrie. He touched his hat. I got in and we + drove off. And then, for the first time, it struck me that an + about-to-be-shabby gentleman with a beggarly two hundred a year, ought + not, in spite of his quarterings, to be contemplating marriage with a + wealthy woman who kept an electric brougham. The thought hit me like a + stone in the midriff. + </p> + <p> + What on earth was to be done? My pride rose up like the <i>deux ex machina</i> + in the melodrama and forbade the banns. To live on Lola's money—the + idea was intolerable. Equally intolerable was the idea of earning an + income by means against the honesty of which my soul clamoured aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” I cried. “Is life, now I've got to it, nothing but an infinite + series of dilemmas? No sooner am I off one than I'm on another. No sooner + do I find that Lola and not Eleanor Faversham is the woman sent down by + Heaven to be my mate than I realise the same old dilemma—Lola on one + horn and Eleanor replaced on the other by Pride and Honour and all sorts + of capital-lettered considerations. Life is the very Deuce,” said I, with + a wry appreciation of the subtlety of language. + </p> + <p> + Why did Lola say: “Your Eleanor Faversham?” + </p> + <p> + I had enough to think over for the rest of the evening. But I slept + peacefully. Light loves had come and gone in the days past; but now for + the first time love that was not light had come into my life. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + “The Lord will find a way out of the dilemma,” said I confidently to + myself as I neared Cadogan Gardens two days after the revelatory drive. + “Lola is in love with me and I am in love with Lola, and there is nothing + to keep us apart but my pride over a matter of a few ha'-pence.” I felt + peculiarly jaunty. I had just posted to Finch the last of the articles I + had agreed to write for his reactionary review, and only a couple of + articles for another journal remained to be written in order to complete + my literary engagements. Soon I should be out of the House of Bondage in + which I had been a slave, at first willingly and now rebelliously, from my + cradle. The great wide world with its infinite opportunities for + development received my liberated spirit. I had broken the shackles of + caste. I had thrown off the perfumed garments of epicureanism, the vesture + of my servitude. My emotions, once stifled in the enervating atmosphere, + now awake fresh and strong in the free air. I was elemental—the man + wanting the woman; and I was happy because I knew I was going to get her. + Such must be the state of being of a dragonfly on a sunny day. And—shall + I confess it?—I had obeyed the dragon-fly's instinct and attired + myself in the most resplendent raiment in my wardrobe. My morning coat was + still irreproachable, my patent leather boots still gleamed, and having + had some business in Piccadilly I had stepped into my hatter's and emerged + with my silk hat newly ironed. I positively strutted along the pavement. + </p> + <p> + For two days I had not seen her or heard from her or written to her. I had + scrupulously respected her wishes, foolish though they were. Now I was on + my way to convince her that my love was not a moment's surge of the blood + on a spring afternoon. I would take her into my arms at once, after the + way of men, and she, after the way of women, would yield adorably. I had + no doubt of it. I tasted in anticipation the bliss of that first embrace + as if I had never kissed a woman in my life. And, indeed, what woman had I + kissed with the passion that now ran through my veins? In that embrace all + the ghosts of the past women would be laid for ever and a big and lusty + future would make glorious beginning. “By Heaven,” I cried, almost + articulately, “with the splendour of the world at my command why should I + not write plays, novels, poems, rhapsodies, so as to tell the blind, + groping, loveless people what it is like? + </p> + <p> + “Take me up to Madame Brandt!” said I to the lift-porter. “Madame Brandt + is not in town, sir,” said the man. + </p> + <p> + I looked at him open-mouthed. “Not in town?” + </p> + <p> + “I think she has gone abroad, sir. She left with a lot of luggage + yesterday, and her maid, and now the flat is shut up.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” I cried aghast. + </p> + <p> + The porter smiled. “I can only tell you what has happened, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Where has she gone to?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't say, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Her letters? Has she left no address to which they are to be forwarded?” + </p> + <p> + “Not with me, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she say when she was coming back?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. But she dismissed her cook with a month's wages, so it seems as + though she was gone for a good spell.” + </p> + <p> + “What time yesterday did she leave?” + </p> + <p> + “After lunch. The cabman was to drive her to Victoria—London, + Chatham and Dover Railway.” + </p> + <p> + “That looks like the 2.20 to Paris,” said I. + </p> + <p> + But the lift-porter knew nothing of this. He had given me all the + information in his power. I thanked him and went out into the sunshine a + blinking, dazed, bewildered and piteously crushed man. + </p> + <p> + She had gone, without drum or trumpet, maid and baggage and all, having + dismissed her cook and shut up the flat. It was incredible. I wandered + aimlessly about Chelsea trying to make up my mind what to do. Should I go + to Paris and bring her back by main force? But how did I know that she had + gone to Paris? And if she was there how could I discover her address? + Suddenly an idea struck me. She would not have left Quast and the cattery + in the same unceremonious fashion to get on as best they might. She would + have given Quast money and directions. At any rate, he would know more + than the lift-porter of the mansions. I decided to go to him forthwith. + </p> + <p> + By means of trains and omnibuses I arrived at the house in the little + street off Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, where the maker of gymnastic + appliances had his being. I knocked at the door. A grubby man appeared. I + inquired for Quast. + </p> + <p> + Quast had left that morning in a van, taking his cages of cats with him. + He had gone abroad and was never coming back again, not if he knew it, + said the grubby man. The cats were poison and Quast was a low-down + foreigner, and it would cost him a year's rent to put the place in order + again. Whereupon he slammed the door in my face and left me disconsolate + on the doorstep. + </p> + <p> + The only other person with whom I knew Lola to be on friendly terms was + Sir Joshua Oldfield. I entered the first public telephone office I came to + and rang him up. He had not seen Lola for a week, and had heard nothing + from her relating to her sudden departure. I went sadly home to my + bird-cage in Victoria Street, feeling that now at last the abomination of + desolation had overspread my life. + </p> + <p> + Why had she gone? What was the meaning of it? Why not a line of + explanation? And the simultaneous disappearance of Quast and the cats—what + did that betoken? Had she been summoned, for any reason, to the Maison de + Sante, where Anastasius Papadopoulos was incarcerated? If so, why this + secrecy? Why should Lola of all people side with Destiny and make a + greater Tom Fool of me than ever? This could be no other than the final + jest. + </p> + <p> + I do not care to remember what I did and said in the privacy of my little + room. There are things a man locks away even from himself. + </p> + <p> + I was in the midst of my misery when the bell of my tiny flat rang. I + opened the door and found my sister Agatha smiling on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo!” said I, gazing at her stupidly. + </p> + <p> + “You're not effusive in your welcome, my dear Simon,” she remarked. “Won't + you ask me to come in?” + </p> + <p> + “By all means,” said I. “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + She entered and looked round my little sitting-room. “What a pill-box in + the sky! I had no idea it was as tiny as this. I think I shall call you + Saint Simon Stylites.” + </p> + <p> + I was in no mood for Agatha. I bowed ironically and inquired to what I + owed the honour of the visit. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to do me a favour—a great favour. I'm dying to see the + new dances at the Palace Theatre. They say they dance on everything except + their feet. I've got a box. Tom promised to take me. Now he finds he + can't. I've telephoned all over the place for something uncompromising in + or out of trousers to accompany me and I can't get hold of anybody. So + I've come to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm vastly flattered!” said I. + </p> + <p> + She dismissed my sarcasm with bird-like impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be silly. If I had thought you would like it, I should have come to + you first. I didn't want to bore you. But I did think you would pull me + out of a hole.” + </p> + <p> + “What's a hole?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I've paid for a box and I can't go by myself. How can I? Do take me, + there's a dear.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I'm too dull for haunts of merriment,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She regarded me reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't often I ask you to put yourself out for me. The last time was + when I asked you to be the baby's godfather. And a pretty godfather you've + been. I bet you anything you don't remember the name.” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “What's it then?” + </p> + <p> + “It's—it's——” I snapped my fingers. The brat's name had + for the moment gone out of my distracted head. She broke into a laugh and + ran her arm through mine. + </p> + <p> + “Dorcas.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course—Dorcas. I was going to say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you were going to say wrong, for it's Dorothy. Now you <i>must</i> + come—for the sake of penance.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do anything you please!” I cried in desperation, “so long as you'll + not talk to me of my own affairs and will let me sit as glum as ever I + choose.” + </p> + <p> + Then for the first time she manifested some interest in my mood. She put + her head to one side and scanned my face narrowly. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Simon?” + </p> + <p> + “I've absorbed too much life the last few days,” said I, “and now I've got + indigestion.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, dear old boy, whatever it is,” she said affectionately. “Come + round and dine at 7.30, and I promise not to worry you.” + </p> + <p> + What could I do? I accepted. The alternative to procuring Agatha an + evening's amusement was pacing up and down my bird-cage and beating my + wings (figuratively) and perhaps my head (literally) against the bars. + </p> + <p> + “It's awfully sweet of you,” said Agatha. “Now I'll rush home and dress.” + </p> + <p> + I accompanied her down the lift to the front door, and attended her to her + carriage. + </p> + <p> + “I'll do you a good turn some day, dear,” she said as she drove off. + </p> + <p> + I rather flatter myself that Agatha had no reason to complain of my + dulness at dinner. In my converse with her I was faced by various + alternatives. I might lay bare my heart, tell her of my love for Lola and + my bewildered despair at her desertion; this I knew she would no more + understand than if I had proclaimed a mad passion for a young lady who had + waited on me at a tea-shop, or for a cassowary at the Zoo; even the best + and most affectionate of sisters have their sympathetic limitations. I + might have maintained a mysterious and Byronic gloom; this would have been + sheer bad manners. I might have attributed my lack of spontaneous gaiety + to toothache or stomach-ache; this would have aroused sisterly and + matronly sympathies, and I should have had the devil's own job to escape + from the house unpoisoned by the nostrums that lurk in the medicine chest + of every well-conducted family. Agatha, I knew, had a peculiarly + Borgiaesque equipment. Lastly, there was the worldly device, which I + adopted, of dissimulating the furnace of my affliction beneath a smiling + exterior. Agatha, therefore, found me an entertaining guest and drove me + to the Palace Theatre in high good humour. + </p> + <p> + There, however, I could resign my role of entertainer in favour of the + professionals on the stage. I sat back in my corner of the box and gave + myself up to my harassing concerns. Young ladies warbled, comic acrobats + squirted siphons at each other and kicked each other in the stomach, + jugglers threw plates and brass balls with dizzying skill, the famous + dancers gyrated pyrotechnically, the house applauded with delight, Agatha + laughed and chuckled and clapped her hands and I remained silent, + unnoticed and unnoticing in my reflective corner, longing for the foolery + to end. Where was Lola? Why had she forsaken me? What remedy, in the + fiend's name, was there for this heart torture within me? The most + excruciating agonies of the little pain inside were child's play to this. + I bit my lips so as not to groan aloud and contorted my features into the + semblance of a smile. + </p> + <p> + During a momentary interval there came a knock at the box door. I said, + “Come in!” The door opened, and there, to my utter amazement, stood Dale + Kynnersley—Dale, sleek, alert, smiling, attired in the very latest + nicety of evening dress affected by contemporary youth—Dale such as + I knew and loved but six months ago. + </p> + <p> + He came forward to Agatha, who was little less astounded than myself. + </p> + <p> + “How d'ye do, Lady Durrell? I'm in the stalls with Harry Essendale. I + tried to catch your eye, but couldn't. So I thought I'd come up.” He + turned to me with frank outstretched hand, “How do, Simon?” + </p> + <p> + I grasped his hand and murmured something unintelligible. The thing was so + extraordinary, so unexpected that my wits went wandering. Dale carried off + the situation lightly. It was he who was the man of the world, and I the + unresourceful stumbler. + </p> + <p> + “He's looking ripping, isn't he, Lady Durrell? I met old Oldfield the + other day, and he was raving about your case. The thing has never been + done before. Says they're going mad over your chap in Paris—they've + given him medals and wreaths and decorations till he goes about like a + prize bull at a fair. By Jove, it's good to see you again.” + </p> + <p> + “You might have taken an earlier opportunity,” Agatha remarked with some + acidity. + </p> + <p> + “So I might,” retorted Dale blandly; “but when a man's a born ass it takes + him some time to cultivate sense! I've been wanting to see you for a long + time, Simon—and to-night I just couldn't resist it. You don't want + to kick me out?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid,” said I, somewhat brokenly, for the welcome sight of his + face and the sound of his voice aroused emotions which even now I do not + care to analyse. “It was generous of you to come up.” + </p> + <p> + He coloured. “Rot!” said he, in his breezy way. “Hallo! The curtain's + going up. What's the next item? Oh, those fool dogs!” + </p> + <p> + “I adore performing dogs!” said Agatha, looking toward the stage. + </p> + <p> + He turned to me. “Do you?” + </p> + <p> + The last thing on earth I desired to behold at that moment was a + performing animal. My sensitiveness led me to suspect a quizzical look in + Dale's eye. Fortunately, he did not wait for my answer, but went on in a + boyish attempt to appease Agatha. + </p> + <p> + “I don't despise them, you know, Lady Durrell, but I've seen them twice + before. They're really rather good. There's a football match at the end + which is quite exciting.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the beauties!” cried Agatha over her shoulder as the dogs trotted on + the stage. I nodded an acknowledgment of the remark, and she plunged into + rapt contemplation of the act. Dale and I stood at the back of the box. + Suddenly he whispered: + </p> + <p> + “Come out into the corridor. I've something to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said I, and followed him out of the box. + </p> + <p> + He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked at me with the defiant and + you-be-damned air of the young Briton who was about to commit a gracious + action. I knew what he was going to say. I could tell by his manner. I + dreaded it, and yet I loved him for it. + </p> + <p> + “Why say anything, my dear boy?” I asked. “You want to be friends with me + again, and God knows I want to be friends again with you. Why talk?” + </p> + <p> + “I've got to get if off my chest,” said he, in his so familiar vernacular. + “I want to tell you that I've been every end of a silly ass and I want you + to forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + I vow I have never felt so miserably guilty towards any human being as I + did at that moment. I have never felt such a smug-faced hypocrite. It was + a humiliating position. I had inflicted on him a most grievous wrong, and + here he was pleading for forgiveness. I could not pronounce the words of + pardon. He misinterpreted my silence. + </p> + <p> + “I know I've behaved rottenly to you since you've been back, but the first + step's always so difficult. You mustn't bear a grudge against me.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy!” I cried, my hand on his shoulder, touched to the heart by + his simple generosity, “don't let us talk of grudges and forgiveness. All + I want to know is whether you're contented?” + </p> + <p> + “Contented?” he cried. “I should just think I am. I'm the happiest ass + that doesn't eat thistles!” + </p> + <p> + “Explain yourself, my dear Dale,” said I, relapsing into my old manner. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to marry Maisie Ellerton.” + </p> + <p> + I took him by the arm and dragged him inside the box. + </p> + <p> + “Agatha,” said I, “leave those confounded dogs for a moment and attend to + serious matters. This young man has not come up to see either of us, but + to obtain our congratulations. He's going to marry Maisie Ellerton.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me all about it,” said Agatha intensely interested. + </p> + <p> + A load of responsibility rolled off my shoulders like Christian's pack. I + looked at the dog football match with the interest of a Sheffield puddler + at a Cup-tie, and clapped my hands. + </p> + <p> + An hour or so later after we had seen Agatha home, and Dale had + incidentally chucked Lord Essendale (the phrase is his own), we were + sitting over whisky and soda and cigars in my Victoria Street flat. The + ingenuousness of youth had insisted on this prolongation of our meeting. + He had a thousand things to tell me. They chiefly consisted in a + reiteration of the statement that he had been a rampant and unimagined + silly ass, and that Maisie, who knew the whole lunatic story, was a brick, + and a million times too good for him. When he entered my humble lodging he + looked round in a bewildered manner. + </p> + <p> + “Why on earth are you living in this mouse-trap?” + </p> + <p> + “Agatha calls it a pill-box. I call it a bird-cage. I live here, my dear + boy, because it is the utmost I can afford.” + </p> + <p> + “Rot! I've been your private secretary and know what your income is.” + </p> + <p> + I sighed heavily. I shall have to get a leaflet printed setting out the + causes that led to my change of fortune. Then I can hand it to such of my + friends as manifest surprise. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, I had grown so used to the story of my lamentable pursuit of the + eumoirous that I rattled it off mechanically after the manner of the + sturdy beggar telling his mendacious tale of undeserved misfortune. To + Dale, however, it was fresh. He listened to it open-eyed. When I had + concluded, he brought his hand down on the arm of the chair. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, you're splendid! I always said you were. Just splendid!” + </p> + <p> + He gulped down half a tumbler of whisky and soda to hide his feelings. + </p> + <p> + “And you've been doing all this while I've been making a howling fool of + myself! Look here, Simon, you were right all along the line—from the + very first when you tackled me about Lola. Do you remember?” + </p> + <p> + “Why refer to it?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I must!” he burst in quickly. “I've been longing to put myself square + with you. By the way, where is Lola?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said I with grim truthfulness. + </p> + <p> + “Don't know? Has she vanished?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “That's the end of it, I suppose. Poor Lola! She was an awfully good sort + you know!” said Dale, “and I won't deny I was hit. That's when I came such + a cropper. But I realise now how right you were. I was just caught by the + senses, nothing else; and when she wrote to say it was all off between us + my vanity suffered—suffered damnably, old chap. I lost the election + through it. Didn't attend to business. That brought me to my senses. Then + Essendale took me away yachting, and I had a quiet time to think; and + after that I somehow took to seeing more of Maisie. You know how things + happen. And I'm jolly grateful to you, old chap. You've saved me from God + knows what complications! After all, good sort as Lola is, it's rot for a + man to go outside his own class, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “It depends upon the man—and also the woman,” said I, beginning to + derive peculiar torture from the conversation. + </p> + <p> + Dale shook his wise head. “It never comes off,” said he. After a pause he + laughed aloud. “Don't you remember the lecture you gave me? My word, you + did talk! You produced a string of ghastly instances where the experiment + had failed. Let me see, who was there, Paget, Merridew, Bullen. Ha! Ha! + No, I'm well out of it, old chap—thanks to you.” + </p> + <p> + “If any good has come of this sorry business,” said I gravely, “I'm only + too grateful to Providence.” + </p> + <p> + He caught the seriousness of my tone. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't want to touch on that side of it,” he said awkwardly. “I know + what an infernal time you had! It must have been Gehenna. I realise now + that it was on my account, and so I can never do enough to show my + gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + He finished his glass of whisky and walked about the tiny room. + </p> + <p> + “What has always licked me,” he said at length, “is why she never told me + she was married. It's so curious, for she was as straight as they make + them. It's devilish odd!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I assented wearily, for every word of this talk was a new pain. + “Devilish odd!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it's a question of class again.” + </p> + <p> + “Or sex,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “What has sex to do with being straight?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Rot!” said Dale. + </p> + <p> + I sighed. “I wish your dialectical vocabulary were not so limited.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Still the same old Simon. It does my heart good to hear you. May I have + another whisky?” + </p> + <p> + I took advantage of this break to change the conversation. He had told me + nothing of his own affairs save that he was engaged to Maisie Ellerton. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens!” cried he. “Isn't that enough?” + </p> + <p> + “An engagement isn't an occupation.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it, by Jove?” He laughed boyishly. “I manage, however, to squeeze + in a bit of work now and then. The mater has always got plenty on hand for + me, and I do things for Raggles. He has been awfully decent. The first + time I met him or any of the chiefs after the election I was in a blue + funk. But no one seemed to blame me; they all said they were sorry; and + now Raggles is looking out for a constituency for me to nurse for the next + General Election. Then things <i>will</i> hum, I promise you!” + </p> + <p> + He waved his cigar with the air of a young paladin about to conquer the + world. In spite of my own depression, I could not help smiling with + gladness at the sight of him. With his extravagantly cut waistcoat, his + elaborately exquisite white tie, his perfectly fitting evening clothes, + with his supple ease of body, his charming manner, the preposterous fellow + made as gallant a show as any ruffling blade in powder and red-heeled + shoes. He had acquired, too, an extra touch of manhood since I had seen + him last. I felt proud of him, conscious that to the making of him I had + to some small degree contributed. + </p> + <p> + “You must come out and lunch with Maisie and me one day this week,” said + he. “She would love to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait till you're married,” said I, “and then we'll consider it. At + present Maisie is under the social dominion of her parents.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—what of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Just that,” said I. + </p> + <p> + Then the truth dawned on him. He grew excited and said it was damnable. He + wasn't going to stand by and see people believe a lot of scandalous lies + about me. He had no idea people had given me the cold shoulder. He would + jolly well (such were his words) take a something (I forget the adjective) + megaphone and trumpet about society what a splendid fellow I was. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell everybody the whole silly-ass story about myself from beginning + to end,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + I checked him. “You're very generous, my dear boy,” said I, “but you'll do + me a favour by letting folks believe what they like.” And then I + explained, as delicately as I could, how his sudden championship could be + of little advantage to me, and might do him considerable harm. + </p> + <p> + In his impetuous manner he cut short my carefully-expressed argument. + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish! Heaps of people I know are already convinced that I was keeping + Lola Brandt and that you took her from me in the ordinary vulgar way—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” I interrupted, shrinking. “That's why I order you, in God's + name, to leave the whole thing alone.” + </p> + <p> + “But confound it, man! I've come out of it all right, why shouldn't you? + Even supposing Lola was a loose woman—” + </p> + <p> + I threw up my hand. “Stop!” + </p> + <p> + He looked disconcerted for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “We know she isn't, but for the sake of argument—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't argue,” said I. “Let us drop it.” + </p> + <p> + “But hang it all!” he shouted in desperation. “Can't I do something! Can't + I go and kick somebody?” + </p> + <p> + I lost my self-control. I rose and put both my hands on his shoulders and + looked him in the eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You can kick anybody you please whom you hear breathe a word against the + honour and purity of Madame Lola Brandt.” + </p> + <p> + Then I walked away, knowing I had betrayed myself, and tried to light a + cigar with fingers that shook. There was a pause. Dale stood with his back + to the fireplace, one foot on the fender. The cigar took some lighting. + The pause grew irksome. + </p> + <p> + “My regard for Madame Brandt,” said I at last, “is such that I don't wish + to discuss her with any one.” I looked at Dale and met his keen eyes fixed + on me. The faintest shadow of a smile played about his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said he dryly, “we won't discuss her. But all the same, my + dear Simon, I can't help being interested in her; and as you're obviously + the same, it seems rather curious that you don't know where she is.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you doubt me?” I asked, somewhat staggered by his tone. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heaven's, no! But if she has disappeared, I'm convinced that + something has happened which I know nothing of. Of course, it's none of my + business.” + </p> + <p> + There was a new and startling note of assurance in his voice. Certainly he + had developed during the past few months. What I had done, Heaven only + knows. Misfortune, which is supposed to be formative of character, seemed + to have turned mine into pie. How can I otherwise account for my not + checking the lunatic impulse that prompted my next words. + </p> + <p> + “Well, something has happened,” said I, “and if we're to be friends, you + had better know it. Two days ago, for the first time, I told Madame Brandt + that I loved her. This very afternoon I went to get her answer to my + question—would she marry me?—and I found that she had + disappeared without leaving any address behind her. So whenever you hear + her name mentioned you can just tell everybody that she's the one woman in + the whole wide world I want to marry.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Simon,” said Dale. “Poor old chap.” + </p> + <p> + “That's exactly how things stand.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord, who would have thought it?” + </p> + <p> + “How I've borne with you talking about her all this evening the devil only + knows,” I cried. “You've driven me half crazy.” + </p> + <p> + “You should have told me to shut up.” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Simon. I'm so sorry—but I had no idea you had fallen in + love with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Fallen in love!” said I, losing my head. “She's the only woman on God's + earth I've ever cared for. I want her as I've wanted nothing in the + universe before.” + </p> + <p> + “And you've come to care for her as much as that?” he said + sympathetically. “Poor old Simon.” + </p> + <p> + “Why the devil shouldn't I?” I shouted, nettled by his “poor old Simons.” + </p> + <p> + “Lola Brandt is hardly of your class,” said Dale. + </p> + <p> + I broke out furiously. “Damn class! I've had enough of it. I'm going to + take my life into my own hands and do what I like with it. I'm going to + choose my mate without any reference to society. I've cut myself adrift + from society. It can go hang. Lola Brandt is a woman worth any man's + loving. She is a woman in a million. You know nothing whatever about her.” + </p> + <p> + The last words were scarcely out of my mouth when an echo from the + distance came and, as it were, banged at my ears. Dale himself had + shrieked them at me in exactly the same tone with reference to the same + woman. I stopped short and looked at him for a moment rather stupidly. + Then the imp of humour, who for some time had deserted me, flew to my side + and tickled my brain. I broke into a chuckle, somewhat hysterical I must + admit, and then, throwing myself into an arm-chair, gave way to + uncontrollable laughter. + </p> + <p> + The scare of the unexpected rose in Dale's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what on earth is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't you see?” I cried, as far as the paroxysms of my mirth would let + me. “Can't you see how exquisitely ludicrous the whole thing has been from + beginning to end? Don't you realise that you and I are playing the same + scene as we played months ago in my library, with the only difference that + we have changed roles? I'm the raving, infatuated youth, and you're the + grave and reverend mentor. Don't you see? Don't you see?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't see anything to laugh at,” said Dale sturdily. + </p> + <p> + And he couldn't. There are thousands of bright, flame-like human beings + constituted like that. Life spreads out before them one of its most + side-splitting, topsy-turvy farces and they see in it nothing to laugh at. + </p> + <p> + To Dale the affair had been as serious and lacking in the fantastic as the + measles. He had got over the disease and now was exceedingly sorry to + perceive that I had caught it in my turn. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't funny a bit,” he continued. “It's quite natural. I see it all + now. You cut me out from the very first. You didn't mean to—you + never thought of it. But what chance had I against you? I was a young ass + and you were a brilliant man of the world. I bear you no grudge. You + played the game in that way. Then things happened—and at last you've + fallen in love with her—and now just at the critical moment she has + gone off into space. It must be devilish painful for you, if you ask me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dale,” said I, shaking my head, “the only fitting end to the farce + would be if you wandered over Europe to find and bring her back to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that,” said he, “because I'm engaged, and that, as I + said, gives me occupation; but if I can do anything practicable, my dear + old Simon, you've only got to send for me.” + </p> + <p> + He pulled out his watch. + </p> + <p> + “My hat!” he exclaimed. “It's past two o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + I am a personage apart from humanity. I vary from the kindly ways of man. + A curse is on me. + </p> + <p> + Surely no man has fought harder than I have done to convince himself of + the deadly seriousness of existence; and surely before the feet of no man + has Destiny cast such stumbling-blocks to faith. I might be an ancient + dweller in the Thebaid struggling towards dreams of celestial habitations, + and confronted only by grotesque visions of hell. No matter what I do, I'm + baffled. I look upon sorrow and say, “Lo, this is tragedy!” and hey, + presto! a trick of lightning turns it into farce. I cry aloud, in + perfervid zeal, “Life is real, life is earnest, and the apotheosis of the + fantastic is not its goal,” and immediately a grinning irony comes to give + the lie to my credo. + </p> + <p> + Or is it that, by inscrutable decree of the Almighty Powers, I am + undergoing punishment for an old unregenerate point of view, being doomed + to wear my detested motley for all eternity, to stretch out my hand for + ever to grasp realities and find I can do nought but beat the air with my + bladder; to listen with strained ear perpetually expectant of the music of + the spheres, and catch nothing but the mocking jingle of the bells on my + fool's cap? + </p> + <p> + I don't know. I give it up. + </p> + <p> + Such were my thoughts on the morning after my interview with Dale, when I + had read a long, long letter from Lola, which she had despatched from + Paris. + </p> + <p> + The letter lies before me now, many pages in a curious, half-formed + foreign hand. Many would think it an ill-written letter—for there + are faults of spelling and faults of grammar—but even now, as I look + on those faults, the tears come into my eyes. Oh, how exquisitely, + pathetically, monumentally, sublimely foolish! She had little or nothing + to do with it, poor dear; it was only the Arch-Jester again, leading her + blindly away, so as once more to leave me high and dry on the Hill of + Derision. + </p> + <p> + “. . . My dear, you must forgive me! My heart is breaking, but I know I'm + doing right. There is nothing for it but to go out of your life for ever. + It terrifies me to think of it, but it's the only way. I know you think + you love me, dear; but you can't, you can't <i>really</i> love a woman so + far beneath you, and I would sooner never see you again than marry you and + wake up one day and find that you hated and scorned me. . . .” + </p> + <p> + Can you wonder that I shook my fist at Heaven and danced with rage? + </p> + <p> + “. . . Miss Eleanor Faversham called on me just a few minutes after you + left me that afternoon. We had a long, long talk. Simon, dear, you must + marry her. You loved her once, for you were engaged, and only broke it off + because you thought you were going to die; and she loves you, Simon, and + she is a lady with all the refinement and education that I could never + have. She is of your class, dear, and understands you, and can help you + on, whereas I could only drag you down. I am not fit to black her boots. . + . .” + </p> + <p> + And so forth, and so forth, in the most heartrending strain of insensate + self-sacrifice and heroic self-abasement. The vainest and most heartless + dog of a man stands abashed and helpless before such things in a woman. + </p> + <p> + She had not seen or written to me because she would not have her + resolution weakened. After the great wrench, succeeding things were + easier. She had taken Anastasius's cats and proposed to work them in the + music-halls abroad and send the proceeds to be administered for the little + man's comfort at the Maison de Sante. As both her name and the + Papadopoulos troupe of cats were well known in the “variety” world, it + would be a simple matter to obtain engagements. She had already opened + negotiations for a short season somewhere abroad. I was not to be anxious + about her. She would have plenty of occupation. + </p> + <p> + “. . . I am not sending you any address, for I don't want you to know + where I am, dear. I shan't write to you again unless I scribble things and + tear them up without posting. This is final. When a woman makes such a + break she must do it once and for all. Oh, Simon, when you kissed me two + days ago you thought you loved me; but I know what the senses are and how + they deceive people, and I had only just caught your senses on that spring + afternoon, and I made you do it, for I had been aching, aching for months + for a word of love from you, and when it came I was ashamed. But I should + have been weak and shut my eyes to everything if Miss Faversham had not + come to me like God's good angel. . . .” + </p> + <p> + At the fourth reading of the letter I stopped short at these words. God's + good angel, indeed! Could anything have been more calculated to put a man + into a frenzy? I seized my hat and stick and went in search of the nearest + public telephone office. In less than ten minutes I had arranged an + immediate interview with Eleanor Faversham at my sister Agatha's, and in + less than half an hour I was pacing up and down Agatha's sitting-room + waiting for her. God's good angel! The sound of the words made me choke + with wrath. There are times when angelic interference in human destinies + is entirely unwarrantable. I stamped and I fumed, and I composed a speech + in which I told Eleanor exactly what I thought of angels. + </p> + <p> + As I had to wait a considerable time, however, before Eleanor appeared, + the raging violence of my wrath abated, and when she did enter the room + smiling and fresh, with the spring in her clear eyes and a flush on her + cheek, I just said: “How d'ye do, Eleanor?” in the most commonplace way, + and offered her a chair. + </p> + <p> + “I've come, you see. You were rather peremptory, so I thought it must be a + matter of great importance.” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” said I. “You went to see Madame Brandt.” + </p> + <p> + “I did,” she replied, looking at me steadily, “and I have tried to write + to you, but it is more difficult than I thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said I, “it's no use writing now, for you've managed to drive her + out of the country.” + </p> + <p> + She half rose in her chair and regarded me with wide-blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I've driven her out of the country?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; with her maid and her belongings and Anastasius Papadopoulos's + troupe of performing cats, and Anastasius Papadopoulos's late pupil and + assistant Quast. She has given up her comfortable home in London and now + proposes to be a wanderer among the music-halls of Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “But that's not my fault! Indeed, it isn't.” + </p> + <p> + “She says in a letter I received this morning bearing no address, that if + you hadn't come to her like God's good angel, she would have remained in + London.” + </p> + <p> + Eleanor looked bewildered. “I thought I had made it perfectly clear to + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Made what clear?” + </p> + <p> + She blushed a furious red. “Can't you guess? You must be as stupid as she + is. And, of course, you're wildly angry with me. Aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly wish you hadn't gone to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it merely to tell me this that you ordered me to come here?” she + asked, with a touch of anger in her voice, for however much like God's + good angels young women may be, they generally have a spirit of their own. + </p> + <p> + I felt I had been wanting in tact; also that I had put myself—through + an impetuosity foreign to what I had thought to be my character—in a + foolish position. If I replied affirmatively to her question, she would + have served me perfectly right by tossing her head in the air and marching + indignantly out of the room. I temporised. + </p> + <p> + “In order to understand the extraordinary consequences of your interview, + I should like to have some idea of what took place. I know, my dear + Eleanor,” I continued as gently as I could, “I know that you went to see + her out of the very great kindness of your heart—” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn't.” + </p> + <p> + I made a little gesture in lieu of reply. There was a span of silence. + Eleanor played with the silky ears of Agatha's little Yorkshire terrier + which had somehow strayed into the room and taken possession of her lap. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you see, Simon?” she said at last, half tearfully, without taking + her eyes off the dog, “don't you see that by accusing me in this way you + make it almost impossible for me to speak? And I was going to be so loyal + to you.” + </p> + <p> + A tear fell down her cheek on to the dog's back, and convicted me of + unmitigated brutality. + </p> + <p> + “What else could you be but loyal?” I murmured. “Your attitude all through + has shone it.” + </p> + <p> + She flashed her hand angrily over her eyes, and looked at me. “And I + wanted to be loyal to the end. If you had waited and she had waited, you + would have seen. As soon as I could have conveyed it to you decently, I + should have shown you——Ah!” She broke off, put the Yorkshire + terrier on the sofa beside her, and rose with an impatient gesture. “You + want to know why I called on Lola Brandt? I felt I had to know for myself + what kind of woman she was. She was the woman between us—you and me. + You don't suppose I ceased to care for you just because what we thought + was a fatal illness broke off our engagement! I did care for you. I cared + for you—in a way; I say 'in a way'—I'll tell you why later on. + When we met here the last time do you think I was not moved? I knew your + altered position would not allow you to suggest a renewal of the + engagement so I offered you the opportunity. Do you remember? But I could + not tell whether you still cared for me or whether you cared for the other + woman. So I had to go and see her. I couldn't bear to think that you might + feel in honour bound to take me at my word and be caring all the time for + some one else. I went to see her, and then I realised that I didn't count. + Don't ask why. Women know these things. And I found that she loved you + with a warmth and richness I'm incapable of. I felt I had stepped into + something big and splendid, as if I had been a caterpillar walking into + the heart of a red rose. I felt prim and small and petty. Until then I had + never known what love meant, and I didn't feel it; I couldn't feel it. I + couldn't give you a millionth part of what that woman does. And I knew + that having lived in that atmosphere, you couldn't possibly be content + with me. If you had waited, I should have found some means of telling you + so. That's what I meant by saying I was loyal to you. And I thought I had + made it clear to her. It seems I didn't. It isn't my fault.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said I, when she had come to the end of this astonishing + avowal, and stood looking at me somewhat defiantly and twisting her + fingers nervously in front of her, “I don't know what in the world to say + to you.” + </p> + <p> + “You can tell me, at least, that my instinct was right.” + </p> + <p> + “Which one? A woman has so many.” + </p> + <p> + “That you love Lola Brandt.” + </p> + <p> + I lifted my arms in a helpless gesture and let them drop to my sides. + </p> + <p> + “One is not one's own master in these things.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + Eleanor drew a long breath, turned and sat down again on the sofa. + </p> + <p> + “And she knows it?” + </p> + <p> + “I have told her so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why in the world has she run away?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you two wonderful and divinely foolish people have been too big + for each other. While you were impressed by one quality in her she was + equally impressed by another in you. She departed, burning her ships, so + as to go entirely out of my life for the simple reason, as she herself + expresses it, that she was not fit to black your boots. So,” said I, + taking her left hand in mine and patting it gently, “between you two dear, + divine angel fools, I fall to the ground.” + </p> + <p> + A while later, just before we parted, she said in her frank way: + </p> + <p> + “I know many people would say I've behaved with shocking impropriety—immodestly + and all that. You don't, do you? I believe half the unhappiness in life + comes from people being afraid to go straight at things. Perhaps I've gone + too straight this time—but you'll forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + I smiled and squeezed her hand. “My dear,” said I, “Lola Brandt was right. + You are God's good angel.” + </p> + <p> + I went away in a chastened mood, no longer wrathful, for what could woman + do more for mortal man than what Eleanor Faversham had attempted? She had + gone to see whether she should stand against her rival, and with a superb + generosity, unprecedented in her sex, she had withdrawn. The magnanimity + of it overwhelmed me. I walked along the street exalting her to viewless + pinnacles of high-heartedness. And then, suddenly, the Devil whispered in + my ear that execrated word “eumoiriety.” It poisoned the rest of the day. + It confirmed my conviction of the ironical designs of Destiny. Destiny, + not content with making me a victim of the accursed principle in my own + person, had used these two dear women as its instruments in dealing me + fresh humiliation. Where would it end? Where could I turn to escape such + an enemy? If I had been alone in green fields instead of Sloane Square, I + should have clapped my hands to my head and prayed God not to drive me + crazy. I should have cried wild vows to the winds and shaken my fist at + the sky and rolled upon the grass and made a genteel idiot of myself. + Nature would have understood. Men do these things in time of stress, and I + was in great stress. I loved a woman for the first time in my life—and + I was a man nearly forty. I wanted her with every quivering nerve in me. + And she was gone. Lost in the vast expanse of Europe with a parcel of + performing cats. Gone out of my life loving me as I loved her, all on + account of this Hell-invented principle. Ye gods! If the fierce, pure, + deep, abiding love of a man for a woman is not a reality, what in this + world of shadows is anything but vapour? I grasped it tight, hugged it to + my bosom—and now she was gone, and in my ears rang the derisive + laughter of the enemy. + </p> + <p> + Where would it end? What would happen next? Nothing was too outrageously, + maniacally impossible. I walked up Sloane Street, a street for which + impeccable respectability, security of life and person, comfortable, + modern, twentieth-century, prosperous smugness has no superior in all the + smug cities of the earth, and I was prepared to encounter with a smile of + recognition anything that the whirling brains of Bedlam had ever + conceived. Why should not this little lady tripping along with gold + chain-bag and anxious, shopping knit of the brow, throw her arms round my + neck and salute me as her long-lost brother? Why should not the patient + horses in that omnibus suddenly turn into griffins and begin to snort fire + from their nostrils? Why should not that policeman, who, on his beat, was + approaching me with the heavy, measured tread, suddenly arrest me for + complicity in the Pazzi Conspiracy or the Rye House Plot? Why should not + the whole of the decorous street suddenly change into the inconsequence of + an Empire ballet? Why should not the heavens fall down and universal chaos + envelop all? + </p> + <p> + The only possible reason I can think of now is that the Almighty Powers + did not consider it worth while to go to quite so much trouble on my + account. + </p> + <p> + This, however, gives you some idea of my state of mind. But though it + lasted for a considerable time, I would not have you believe that I + fostered it unduly. Indeed, I repudiated it with some disgust. I took it + out, examined it, and finding it preposterous, set to work to modify it + into harmony with the circumstances of my every-day life. Even the most + sorely tried of men cannot walk abroad shedding his exasperation around + like pestilence. If he does, he is put into a lunatic asylum. + </p> + <p> + If a man cannot immediately assuage the hunger of his heart, he must meet + starvation with a smiling face. In the meantime, he has to eat so as to + satisfy the hunger of his body, to clothe himself with a certain + discrimination, to attend to polite commerce with his fellow man and to + put to some fair use the hours of his day. I did not doubt but that by + means of intelligent inquiry which I determined to pursue in every + possible direction I should sooner or later obtain news of Lola. A lady + with a troupe of performing cats could not for long remain in obscurity. + True, I might have gone in gallant quest of her; but I had had enough of + such fool adventures. I bided my time, consulted with Dale, who took up + the work of a private detective agency with his usual zeal, writing + letters to every crony who languished in the exile of foreign embassies, + and corresponding (unknown to Lady Kynnersley) with the agencies of the + International Aid Society, did what I could on my own account, and turned + my attention seriously to the regeneration of the Judds. + </p> + <p> + As the affairs of one drunken tailor's family could not afford me complete + occupation for my leisure hours, I began to find myself insensibly drawn + by Campion's unreflecting enthusiasm into all kinds of small duties + connected with Barbara's Building. Before I could realise that I had + consented, I discovered myself in charge of an evening class of + villainous-looking and uncleanly youths who assembled in one of the + lecture-rooms to listen to my recollections of the history of England. I + was to continue the course begun by a young Oxford man, who, for some + reason or other, had migrated from Barbara's Building to Toynbee Hall. + </p> + <p> + “I've never done any schoolmastering in my life. Suppose,” said I, with + vivid recollections of my school days, “suppose they rag me?” + </p> + <p> + “They won't,” said Campion, who had come to introduce me to the class. + </p> + <p> + And they did not. I found these five and twenty youthful members of the + proletariat the most attentive, respectable, and intelligent audience that + ever listened to a lecture. Gradually I came to perceive that they were + not as villainous-looking and uncleanly as at first sight I had imagined. + A great many of them took notes. When I came to the end of my dissertation + on Henry VIII, I went among them, as I discovered the custom to be, and + chatted, answering questions, explaining difficulties, and advising as to + a course of reading. The atmosphere of trust and friendliness compensated + for the lack of material sweetness. Here were young men pathetically eager + to learn, grateful for every crumb of information that came from my lips. + They reminded me of nothing more than the ragged class of scholars around + a teacher in a mediaeval university. Some had vague dreams of eventually + presenting themselves for examinations, the Science and Art Department, + the College of Preceptors, the Matriculation of the University of London. + Others longed for education for its own sake, or rather as a means of + raising themselves in the social scale. Others, bitten by the crude + Socialism of their class, had been persuaded to learn something of past + movements of mankind so as to obtain some basis for their opinions. All + were in deadly earnest. The magnetic attraction between teacher and taught + established itself. After one or two lectures, I looked forward to the + next with excited interest. + </p> + <p> + Other things Campion off-handedly put into my charge. I went on tours of + inspection round the houses of his competing housewives. I acted as his + deputy at the police court when ladies and gentlemen with a good record at + Barbara's got into trouble with the constabulary. I investigated cases for + the charity of the institution. In quite a short time I realised with a + gasp that I had become part of the machinery of Barbara's Building, and + was remorselessly and helplessly whirled hither and thither with the rest + of the force of the driving wheel which was Rex Campion. + </p> + <p> + The amazing, the astounding, the utterly incredible thing about the whole + matter was that I not only liked it, but plunged into it heart and soul as + I had never plunged into work before. I discovered sympathies that had + hitherto lain undreamed of within me. In my electioneering days I had, it + is true, foregathered with the sons of toil. I had shaken the horny hands + of men and the soap-suddy hands of women. I had flattered them and cajoled + them and shown myself mighty affable, as a sensible and aspiring + Parliamentary candidate should do; but the way to their hearts I had never + found, I had never dreamed of seeking. And now it seemed as if the great + gift had been bestowed on me—and I examined it with a new and almost + tremulous delight. + </p> + <p> + Also, for the first time in all my life, I had taken pain to be the + companion of my soul. All my efforts to find Lola were fruitless. I became + acquainted with the heartache, the longing for the unattainable, the agony + of spirit. The only anodyne was a forgetfulness of self, the only + compensation a glimmer of a hope and the shadow of a smile in the grey and + leaden lives around me. + </p> + <p> + On Whit Monday evening I was walking along the Thames Embankment on my way + home from Waterloo Station, wet through, tired out, disappointed, and + looking forward to the dry, soft raiment, the warm, cosy room, the + excellent dinner that awaited me in my flat. I—with several others—had + been helping Campion with his annual outing of factory girls and young + hooligans. The weather, which had been perfect on Saturday, Sunday, and + when we had started, a gay and astonishing army, at seven o'clock, had + broken before ten. It had rained, dully miserable, insistently all day + long. The happy day in the New Forest had been a damp and dismal fiasco. I + was returning home, thinking I might walk off an incipient chill, as + depressed as no one but the baffled philanthropist can be, when I + perceived a tattered and dejected man sitting on a bench, a clothes-basket + between his feet, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and + sobbing as if his heart would break. As the spectacle of a grown-up man + crying bitterly in a public thoroughfare was somewhat remarkable, I + paused, and then in order to see whether his distress was genuine, and + also not to arouse his suspicions, I threw myself in an exhausted manner + on the bench beside him. He continued to sob. At last I said, raising my + voice: + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be pretty miserable. What's wrong?” + </p> + <p> + He turned bleared, yet honest-looking eyes upon me. + </p> + <p> + “The whole blasted show!” said he. “There's nothing right in it, s'welp me + Gawd.” + </p> + <p> + I gave a modified assent to the proposition and drew my coat-collar over + my eyes. “Being wet through doesn't make it any better,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Who would ha' thought it would come down as it has to-day? Tell me that. + It's enough to make a man cut his throat!” + </p> + <p> + I was somewhat surprised. “You're not in such a great distress just + because it has been a rainy day!” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't I just!” he exclaimed. “It's been and gone and ruined me, this day + has. Look 'ere, guv'nor, I'll tell you all about it. I've been out of + work, see? I was in 'orspital for three months and I couldn't get nothing + regular to do when I come out. I'm a packer by trade. I did odd jobs, see, + and the wife she earned a little, too, and we managed to keep things going + and to scrape together five shillings, that's three months' savings, + against Whitsun Bank Holiday. And as the weather was so fine, I laid it + all out in paper windmills to sell to the kids on 'Amstead 'Eath. And I + started out this morning with the basket full of them all so fine and + pretty, and no sooner do I get on the 'Eath than the rain comes down and + wipes out the whole blooming lot, before I could sell one. Look 'ere!” + </p> + <p> + He drew a bedraggled sheet of newspaper from the clothes-basket and + displayed a piteous sodden welter of sticks and gaudy pulp. At the sight + of it he broke down again and sobbed like a child. + </p> + <p> + “And there's not a bite in the 'ouse, nor not likely to be for days; and I + daren't go home and face the missus and the kids—and I wish I was + dead.” + </p> + <p> + I had already seen many pitiful tragedies during my brief experience with + Campion; but the peculiar pitifulness of this one wrung my heart. It + taught me as nothing had done before how desperately humble are the + aspirations of the poor. I thought of the cosy comfort that awaited me in + my own home; the despair that awaited him in his. + </p> + <p> + I put my hand in my pocket. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be a good chap,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders. The consciousness of applauded virtue offered + no consolation. I drew out a couple of half-crowns and threw them into the + basket. + </p> + <p> + “For the missus and the kids,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He picked them out of the welter, and holding them in his hand, looked at + me stupidly. + </p> + <p> + “Can you afford it, guv'nor?” + </p> + <p> + At first I thought this remark was some kind of ill-conditioned sarcasm; + but suddenly I realised that dripping wet and covered with mud from head + to foot, with a shapeless, old, green, Homburg hat drooping forlornly + about my ears, I did not fulfil his conception of the benevolent + millionaire. I laughed, and rose from the bench. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Quite well. Better luck next time.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded a good-bye, and walked away. After a minute, he came running + after me. + </p> + <p> + “'Ere,” said he, “I ain't thanked yer. Gawd knows how I'm going to do it. + I can't! But, 'ere—would you mind if I chucked a lot of the stuff + into the river and told the missus I had sold it, and just got back my + money? She's proud, she is, and has never accepted a penny in charity in + her life. It's only because it would be better for 'er.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me with such earnest appeal that I saw that the saving of his + wife's pride was a serious matter. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said I, “and here's a few ha'pence to add to it, so as to + give colour to the story.” + </p> + <p> + He saw that I understood. “Thank you kindly, sir,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” said I, “do you love your wife?” + </p> + <p> + He gaped at me for a moment; obviously the question had never been put to + him either by himself or anybody else. Then, seeing that my interest was + genuine, he spat and scratched his head. + </p> + <p> + “We've been together twenty years,” he said, in a low voice, emotion + struggling with self-consciousness, “and I've 'ad nothing agin her all + that time. She's a bloomin' wonder, I tell you straight.” + </p> + <p> + I held out my hand. “At any rate, you've got what I haven't,” said I. “A + woman who loves you to welcome you home.” + </p> + <p> + And I went away, longing, longing for Lola's arms and the deep love in her + voice. + </p> + <p> + Now that I come to view my actions in some sort of perspective, it seems + to me that it was the underlying poignancy of this trumpery incident—a + poignancy which, nevertheless, bit deep into my soul, that finally + determined the current of my life. + </p> + <p> + A short while afterwards, Campion, who for some time past had found the + organisation of Barbara's Building had far outgrown his individual power + of control, came to me with a proposal that I should undertake the + management of the institution under his general directorship. As he knew + of my financial affairs and of my praiseworthy but futile efforts to live + on two hundred a year, he offered me another two hundred by way of salary + and quarters in the Building. I accepted, moved the salvage of my + belongings from Victoria Street to Lambeth, and settled down to the work + for which a mirth-loving Providence had destined me from my cradle. + </p> + <p> + When I told Agatha, she nearly fainted. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + No sooner had I moved into Barbara's Building and was preparing to begin + my salaried duties than I received news which sent me off post haste to + Berlin. And just as it was not I but Anastasius Papadopoulos who + discovered Captain Vauvenarde, so, in this case, it was Dale who + discovered Lola. + </p> + <p> + He burst in upon me one day, flourishing a large visiting-card, which he + flung down on the table before my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Do you recognise that?” + </p> + <p> + It was the familiar professional card of the unhappy Anastasius. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you see the last line?” + </p> + <p> + I read “London Agents: Messrs. Conto and Blag, 172 Maiden Lane, W.C.” I + looked up. “Well?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “It has done the trick,” said he triumphantly. “What fools we were not to + have thought of it before. I was rooting out a drawer of papers and came + across the card. You remember he handed us one all round the first day we + met him. I put it away—I'm rather a methodical devil with papers, as + you know. When I found it, I danced a hornpipe all round the room and went + straight off to Conto and Blag. I made certain she would work through + them, as they were accustomed to shop the cats, and I found I was right. + They knew all about her. Wouldn't give her address, but told me that she + was appearing this week at the Winter Garten at Berlin. Why that + pudding-headed quagga, Bevan, at the Embassy, hasn't kept his eyes open + for me, as he promised,” he went on a while later, “I don't know! I can + understand Eugen Pattenhausen, the owl-eyed coot who runs the + International Aid Society, not doing a hand's turn to aid anybody—but + Bevan! For Heaven's sake, while you're there call at the Embassy and kick + him.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget, my dear boy,” said I, with a laugh, for his news had made me + light-hearted, “you forget that I have entered upon a life of self-denial, + and one of the luxuries I must deny myself is that of kicking attaches.” + </p> + <p> + “I've a good mind to go with you and do it myself. But it'll keep. Do you + know, it's rather quaint, isn't it?” he said, after a pause, as if struck + by a luminous idea—“It's rather quaint that it should be I who am + playing the little tin god on wheels for you two, and saying 'Bless you, + my children.'” + </p> + <p> + “I thought the humour of the situation couldn't fail to strike you at + last.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, knitting his brows into an air of dark reflection “it is + funny. Devilish funny!” + </p> + <p> + I dismissed him with grateful words, and in a flutter of excitement went + in search of Campion, whom I was lucky to find in the building. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry to ask for leave of absence,” said I, “before I've actually + taken up my appointment; but I must do so. I am summoned at once to Berlin + on important business.” + </p> + <p> + Campion gave willing consent. “How long will you be away?” + </p> + <p> + “That depends,” said I, with a smile which I meant to be enigmatic, but + assuredly must have been fatuous, “upon my powers of persuasion.” + </p> + <p> + I had bright thoughts of going to Berlin and back in a meteoric flash, + bringing Lola with me on my return journey, to marry her out of hand as + soon as we reached London. Cats and Winter Gartens concerned me but + little, and of trifles like contracts I took no account. + </p> + <p> + “If you're there any time,” said Campion, tugging thoughtfully at his + black beard, “you might look into what the Germans are doing with regard + to Female Rescue Work. You might pick up a practical tip or two for use + down here.” + </p> + <p> + What a thing it is to be a man of one idea! I gave him an evasive answer + and rushed away to make the necessary preparations for my journey. I was + absurdly, boyishly happy. No doubt as to my success crossed my mind. It + was to be my final and triumphant adventure. Unless the High Powers stove + a hole in the steamer or sent another railway train to collide with mine, + the non-attainment of my object seemed impossible. I had but to go, to be + seen, to conquer. + </p> + <p> + I arrived safely in Berlin at half-past seven in the evening, and drove to + a modest hotel in the Kaiserstrasse, where I had engaged a room. My first + inquiry was for a letter from Lola. To my disappointment nothing awaited + me. I had telegraphed to her at the Winter Garten the day before, and I + had written as well. A horrible surmise began to dance before me. Suppose + Messrs. Conto and Blag had given Dale erroneous information! I grew sick + and faint at the thought. What laughter there would be in Olympus over my + fool journey! In great agitation I clamoured for a programme of the Winter + Garten entertainment. The hotel clerk put it into my trembling hands. + There was no mention of Madame Lola Brandt, but to my unspeakable comfort + I saw the announcement: + </p> + <p> + “Professorin Anastasius Papadopoulos und ihre wunderbaren Katzen.” + </p> + <p> + Lola was working the cats under the little man's name. That was why she + had baffled the inquiries instituted by Dale and myself and had not + received my telegram. I scribbled a hasty note in which I told her of my + arrival, my love, and my impatience; that I proposed to witness the + performance that evening, and to meet her immediately afterwards at the + stage-door. This, addressed to the Professorin Anastasius Papadopoulos, I + despatched by special messenger to the Winter Garten. After a hasty toilet + and a more hurried meal, I went out, and, too impatient to walk, I hailed + a droschky, and drove through the wide, cheery streets of Berlin. It was a + balmy June evening. The pavements were thronged. Through the vast open + fronts of the cafes one saw agglutinated masses of people just cleft here + and there by white-jacketed waiters darting to and fro with high-poised + trays of beer and coffee. Save these and the folks in theatres all Berlin + was in the streets, taking the air. A sense of gaiety pervaded the place, + organised and recognised, as though it were as much part of a Berliner's + duty to himself, the Fatherland, and the Almighty to be gay when the + labours of the day are over as to be serious during business hours. He + goes through it with a grave face and enjoys himself prodigiously. Your + Latin when he fills the street with jest and laughter obeys the ebullience + of his temperament; your Teuton always seems to be conscientiously obeying + a book of regulations. + </p> + <p> + I soon arrived at the Winter Garten and secured a stall near the stage. + The vast building was packed with a smoking and perspiring multitude. In + shape it was like a long tunnel or a long, narrow railway station, an + impression intensified by a monotonous barrel roof. This was, however, + painted blue and decorated with myriads of golden stars. Along one side + ran a gallery where those who liked to watch the performance and eat a + six-course dinner at the same time could do so in elaborate comfort. In + the centre of the opposite side was the stage, and below it, grouped in a + semi-circle, the orchestra. Beneath the starry roof hung long wisps of + smoke clouds. + </p> + <p> + The performance had only just begun and Lola's turn was seventh on the + list. I reflected that greater deliberation in my movements would have + suited the maturity of my years, besides enabling me to eat a more + digestible dinner. I had come with the unreasoning impatience of a boy, + fully conscious that I was too early, yet desperately anxious not to be + too late. I laughed at myself indulgently and patted the boy in me on the + head. Meanwhile, I gave myself up with mild interest to the entertainment + provided. It was the same as that at any music-hall, winter garden, or + variety theatre the world over. The same brawny gentlemen in tights made + human pyramids out of themselves and played football with the little boys + and minced with their aggravating steps down to the footlights; the same + red-nosed clown tried to emulate his dashing companion on the horizontal + bars, pulling himself up, to the eternal delight of the audience, by the + seat of his baggy breeches, and hanging his hat on the smooth steel + upright; the same massive lady with the deep chest sang sentimental + ballads; the same China-man produced warrens of rabbits and flocks of + pigeons from impossible receptacles; the same half-dozen scantily clad + damsels sang the same inane chorus in the same flat baby voices and danced + the same old dance. Mankind in the bulk is very young; it is very easily + amused and, like a child, clamours for the oft-repeated tale. + </p> + <p> + The curtain went down on the last turn before Lola's. I felt a curious + suspense, and half wished that I had not come to see the performance. I + shrank from finding her a million miles away from me, a new, remote + creature, impersonal as those who had already appeared on the stage. + Mingled with this was a fear lest she might not please this vast audience. + Failure, I felt, would be as humiliating to me as to her. Agatha, I + remembered, confessed to the same feeling with regard to myself when I + made my first speech in the House of Commons. But then I had an + incontrovertible array of facts and arguments, drawn up by an infallible + secretary and welded into cunning verbiage by myself, which I learned off + by heart. And the House, as I knew it would, had been half asleep. I + couldn't fail. But Lola had to please three thousand wide-awake Berlin + citizens, who had paid their money for entertainment, with no other + equipment than her own personality and the tricks of a set of wretched + irresponsible cats. + </p> + <p> + The orchestra struck up the act music. The curtains parted, and revealed + the brightly polished miniature gymnasium I had seen at Anastasius's + cattery; the row of pussies at the back, each on a velvet stand, some + white, some tabby, some long-furred, some short-furred, all sitting with + their forepaws doubled demurely under their chests, wagging their tails + comically, and blinking with feline indifference at the footlights; a cage + in a corner in which I descried the ferocious wild tomcat; and, busily + putting the last touches to the guy ropes, the pupil and assistant Quast, + neatly attired in a close fitting bottle-green uniform with brass buttons. + Almost immediately Lola appeared, in a shimmering gold evening gown, and + with a necklet of barbaric gold round her neck. I had never seen her so + magnificently, so commandingly beautiful. I was conscious of a ripple of + admiration running through the huge assembly—and it was a queer + sensation, half pride, half angry jealousy. My immediate neighbors were + emphatic in their praise. Applause greeted her. She smiled acknowledgments + and, flicking the little toy whip which she carried in her hand, she began + the act. First of all, the cats jumped from their stands, right-turned + like a military line, and walked in procession round the stage. At a halt + and a signal each pussy put its front paws on its front neighbour and the + march began again. Then Lola did something with voice and whip, and each + cat dropped on its paws, and as if by magic there appeared a space between + every animal. + </p> + <p> + At a further word the last cat jumped over the one in front and over the + one in front of that and so on until, having cleared the first cat, it + leaped on to its stand where it began to lick itself placidly. Meanwhile, + the penultimate cat had begun the same evolution, and then the + ante-penultimate cat, until all the cats had cleared the front one and had + taken their positions on their stands. The last cat, left alone, looked + round, yawned in the face of the audience, and, turning tail, regained its + stand with the air of unutterable boredom. The audience, delighted, + applauded vehemently. I raised my hands as I clapped them, trying vainly + and foolishly to catch Lola's eye. + </p> + <p> + At a tap of her whip a white angora and a sleek tabby jumped from the + stands and took up their positions one at each end of a miniature + tight-rope. Lola stuck a tiny Japanese umbrella in the collar of each and + sent them forth on their perilous journey. When they met in the middle, + they spat and caterwauled and argued spitefully. The audience shrieked. + Then by a miracle the cats cleared each other and pursued their sedate and + cautious ways to their respective ends of the rope. The next act was a + team of a dozen rats drawing a tiled chariot driven by a stolid coal-black + cat with green, expressionless eyes, down an aisle formed by the other + cats who sat in solemn contemplation on their tails. There was no doubt of + Lola's success. The tricks were as marvellous in themselves as their + execution was flawless. During the applause I noticed her eagerly scanning + the sea of faces. Her eyes seemed to be turned in my direction. I waved my + handkerchief, and instinct told me that at last she recognised the point + of pink and the flutter of white as me. + </p> + <p> + Then the stage was cleared of the gentle cats and the wire cage containing + Hephaestus was pushed forward by Quast. He showed off the ferocious + beast's quality by making it dash itself against the wires, arch its huge + back, and shoot out venomous claws. Lola commanded him by sign to open the + cage. He approached in simulated terror, Hephaestus uttering + blood-curdling howls, and every time he touched the handle of the door + Hephaestus sprang at him like a tiger with the tomcat's hateful hiss. At + last, amid the laughter of the audience (for this was prearranged + business), Quast suddenly refused to obey his mistress any more, and went + and sat on the floor in the corner of the stage. Then Lola, with a glance + of contempt at him for his poltroonery and a glance of confidence at the + audience, opened the cage door and dragged the gigantic and malevolent + brute out by the scruff of its neck and held it up like a rabbit, as she + had done in Anastasius's cattery. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly her iron grip seemed to relax; she made one or two ineffectual + efforts to retain it and the brute dropped to the ground. She looked at it + for a second disconcerted as if she had lost her nerve, and then, in a + horrible flash, the beast sprang at her face. She uttered piercing + screams. The blood spurted from the ghastly claws. Quick as lightning + Quast leapt forward and dragged it off. Lola clapped both hands to her + eyes, and reeled and tottered to the wings, where I saw a man's two arms + receive her. The last thing I saw was Quast kneeling on the beast on the + floor mastering him by some professional clutch. Then there rang out a + sharp whistle and the curtain went down with a run. + </p> + <p> + I rose, sick with horror, barely conscious of the gasping excitement that + prevailed around me, and blindly groped my path through the crowded rows + of folk towards the door. I had only proceeded half-way when a sudden + silence made me turn, and I saw a man addressing the audience from the + stage. Apparently it was the manager. He regretted to have to inform the + audience that Madame Papadopoulos would not be able to conclude her most + interesting performance that evening as she had unfortunately received + injuries of a very grave nature. Then he signalled to the orchestra, who + crashed into a loud and vulgar march with clanging brass and thundering + drum. It sounded so cynically and hideously inhuman that I trampled + recklessly over people in my mad rush to the exit. + </p> + <p> + I found the stage-door, where a knot of the performers were assembled, + talking of the horrible accident. I pushed my way shiveringly through + them, and tried to rush into the building, but was checked by a burly + porter. I explained incoherently in my rusty German. I came for news of + Madame Papadopoulos. I was her <i>Verlobter</i> I declared, with a gush of + inspiration. Whether he believed that I was her affianced I know not, but + he bade me wait, and disappeared with my card. I became at once the object + of the curiosity of the loungers. I heard them whispering together as they + pointed me out and pitying me. The cat had torn her face away said one + woman. I put my hands over my ears so as not to hear. Presently the porter + returned with a stout person in authority, who drew me into the + stage-doorkeeper's box. + </p> + <p> + “You are a friend of Frau Papadopoulos?” + </p> + <p> + “Friend!” I cried. “She is to be my wife. I am in a state of horror and + despair. Tell me what has happened.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing my condition, he laid aside his official manner and became human. + It was a dreadful accident, said he. The beast had apparently got its + claws in near her eyes; but what were her exact injuries he could not + tell, as her face was all over blood and she had fainted with the pain. + The doctor was with her. He had telephoned for an ambulance. I was to be + quite certain that she would receive every possible attention. He would + give my card to the doctor. Meanwhile I was quite at liberty to remain in + the box till the ambulance came. I thanked him. + </p> + <p> + “In the meantime,” said I, “if you can let me have a word with Fraulein + Dawkins, her maid, should she be in the theatre, or Quast her attendant, I + should be grateful.” + </p> + <p> + He promised and withdrew. The doorkeeper gave me a wooden chair, and there + I sat for an unconscionable time, faint and dizzy with suspense. The + chance words I had heard in the crowd, the manager's remark about the + claws, the memory of the savage spring at the beloved face made me feel + sick. Every now and then, as some doors leading to the stage swung open, I + could hear the orchestra and the laughter and applause of the audience. + Both Dawkins and Quast visited me. The former was in a helpless state of + tears and hand-wringing. As she knew no word of German she could + understand nothing that the doctors or others said. Madame was + unconscious. Her head was tightly bandaged. That was all the definite + information she had. + </p> + <p> + “Did Madame know I was in front to-night?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, sir! I think she had a letter from you. She was so pleased, poor + dear Madame. She told me that you would see the best performance she had + ever given.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon she broke down and was useless for further examination. Then + Quast came. He could not understand how the accident had occurred. + Hephaestus had never before tried to attack her. She had absolute mastery + over him, and he usually behaved with her as gently as any of the other + cats. With himself it was quite different. He was accustomed to Hephaestus + springing at him; but then he beat him hard with a great stick until he + was so sore that he could neither stand up nor lie down. + </p> + <p> + “I have always implored Madame to carry something heavier than that silly + little whip, and now it's all over. She will never be able to control him + again. Hephaestus will have to be killed, and I will be desolate. Ach, + what a misfortune!” + </p> + <p> + He began to weep. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” I cried; “you don't mean to say that you're sorry for the + brute?” + </p> + <p> + “One can't help being fond of him. We have been for five years inseparable + companions!” + </p> + <p> + I had no sympathy to fling away on him at that moment. + </p> + <p> + “How do you account for his spring at Madame to-night? That's all I want + to know.” + </p> + <p> + “She must have been thinking of something else when she grabbed him. For + she missed her grip. Then he fell and was frightened, and she must have + lost her nerve. Hephaestus knew it, and sprang. That is always the case + when wild animals turn. All accidents happen like that.” + </p> + <p> + His words filled me with a new and sickening dread. + </p> + <p> + <i>“She must have been thinking of something else.”</i> Of what else but + of my presence there? That stupid, selfish wave of the handkerchief! I sat + gnawing my hands and cursing myself. + </p> + <p> + The ambulance arrived. Men hurried past my box. I waited again in agony of + mind. At last the porter came and cleared the passage and doorway of + loungers, and I heard the tread of footsteps and gruff directions. The + manager and a man in a frock-coat and black tie, whom I recognised as the + doctor, came down the passage, followed by two great men carrying between + them a stretcher covered by a sheet on which lay all that I loved in life. + Dawkins followed, weeping, and then came several theatre folk. I went + outside and saw the stretcher put into the ambulance-van, and then I made + myself known to the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “She has received very great injuries—chiefly the right cheek and + eye. So much so that she needs an oculist's care at once. I have + telephoned to Dr. Steinholz, of No. 4, Thiergarten, one of our ablest + oculists, to receive her now into his clinique. If you care to do so, you + are welcome to accompany me.” + </p> + <p> + I drove through the gay, flaring streets of Berlin like a man in a + phantasmagoria of horror. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <p> + The first time they allowed me to see her was after many days of + nerve-racking anxiety. I had indeed called at the clinique two or three + times a day for news, and I had written short letters of comfort and + received weirdly-spelt messages taken down from Lola's dictation by a + nurse with an imperfect knowledge of English. These kept the heart in me; + for the doctor's reports were invariably grave—possible loss of + sight in the injured eye and permanent disfigurement their most hopeful + prognostications. I lived, too, in a nervous agony of remorse. For + whatever happened I held myself responsible. At first they thought her + life was in danger. I passed nightmare days. Then the alarming symptoms + subsided, and it was a question of the saving of the eye and the decent + healing of the cheek torn deep by the claws of the accursed brute. When + Quast informed me of its summary execution I felt the primitive savage + arise in me, and I upbraided Quast for not having invited me to gloat over + its expiring throes. How the days passed I know not. I wandered about the + streets, looking into the windows of the great shops, buying flowers and + fruit for Lola in eccentric quantities. Or sitting in beerhouses reading + the financial pages of a German paper held upside down. I could not return + to London. Still less could I investigate the German philanthropic methods + of rescuing fallen women. I wrote to Campion a brief account of what had + happened and besought him to set a deputy to work on the regeneration of + the Judds. + </p> + <p> + At last they brought me to where Lola lay, in a darkened room, with her + head tightly bandaged. A dark mass spread over the pillow which I knew was + her glorious hair. I could scarcely see the unbandaged half of her face. + She still suffered acute pain, and I was warned that my visit could only + be of brief duration, and that nothing but the simplest matters could be + discussed. I sat down on a chair by the left side of the bed. Her + wonderful nervous hand clung round mine as we talked. + </p> + <p> + The first thing she said to me, in a weak voice, like the faint echo of + her deep tones, was: + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to lose all my good looks, Simon, and you won't care to look at + me any more.” + </p> + <p> + She said it so simply, so tenderly, without a hint of reproach in it, that + I almost shouted out my horrible remorse; but I remembered my injunctions + and refrained. I strove to comfort her, telling her mythical tales of + surgical reassurances. She shook her head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “It was like you to stay in Berlin, Simon,” she said, after a while. + “Although they wouldn't let me see you, yet I knew you were within call. + You can't conceive what a comfort it has been.” + </p> + <p> + “How could I leave you, dear,” said I, “with the thought of you throbbing + in my head night and day?” + </p> + <p> + “How did you find me?” + </p> + <p> + “Through Conto and Blag. I tried all other means, you may be sure. But now + I've found you I shan't let you go again.” + </p> + <p> + This was not the time for elaborate explanations. She asked for none. When + one is very ill one takes the most unlikely happenings as commonplace + occurrences. It seemed enough to her that I was by her side. We talked of + her nurses, who were kind; of the skill of Dr. Steinholz, who brought into + his clinique the rigid discipline of a man-of-war. + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn't even let me have your flowers,” she said. “And even if he had + I shouldn't have been able to see them in this dark hole.” + </p> + <p> + She questioned me as to my doings. I told her of my move to Barbara's + Building. + </p> + <p> + “And I'm keeping you from all that splendid work,” she said weakly. “You + must go back at once, Simon. I shall get along nicely now, and I shall be + happy now that I've seen you again.” + </p> + <p> + I kissed her fingers. “You have to learn a lesson, my dear, which will do + you an enormous amount of good.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “The glorious duty of selfishness.” + </p> + <p> + Then the minute hand of the clock marked the end of the interview, and the + nurse appeared on the click and turned me out. + </p> + <p> + After that I saw her daily; gradually our interviews lengthened, and as + she recovered strength our talks wandered from the little incidents and + interests of the sick-room to the general topics of our lives. I told her + of all that had happened to me since her flight. And I told her that I + wanted her and her only of all women. + </p> + <p> + “Why—oh, why, did you do such a foolish thing?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I did it for your good.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, have you ever heard the story of the tender-hearted elephant? + No? It was told in a wonderful book published years ago and called 'The + Fables of George Washington AEsop.' This is it. There was once an elephant + who accidentally trod on the mother of a brood of newly-hatched chickens. + Her tender heart filled with remorse for what she had done, and, + overflowing with pity for the fluffy orphans, she wept bitterly, and + addressed them thus: 'Poor little motherless things, doomed to face the + rough world without a parent's care, I myself will be a mother to you.' + Whereupon, gathering them under her with maternal fondness, she sat down + on the whole brood.” + </p> + <p> + The unbandaged half of her face lit up with a wan smile. “Did I do that?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't conceive it possible that you could love me except for the + outside things.” + </p> + <p> + “You might have waited and seen,” said I in mild reproof. + </p> + <p> + She sighed. “You'll never understand. Do you remember my saying once that + you reminded me of an English Duke?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “You made fun of me; but you must have known what I meant. You see, Simon, + you didn't seem to care a hang for me in that way—until quite + lately. You were goodness and kindness itself, and I felt that you would + stick by me as a friend through thick and thin; but I had given up hoping + for anything else. And I knew there was some one only waiting for you, a + real refined lady. So when you kissed me, I didn't dare believe it. And I + had made you kiss me. I told you so, and I was as ashamed as if I had + suddenly turned into a loose woman. And when Miss Faversham came, I knew + it would be best for you to marry her, for all the flattering things she + said to me, I knew—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” I interrupted, “you didn't know at all. I loved you ever since + I saw you first lying like a wonderful panther in your chair at Cadogan + Gardens. You wove yourself into all my thoughts and around all my actions. + One of these days I'll show you a kind of diary I used to keep, and you'll + see how I abused you behind your back.” + </p> + <p> + Her face—or the dear half of it that was visible—fell. “Oh, + why?” + </p> + <p> + “For making me turn aside from the nice little smooth path to the grave + which I had marked out for myself. I regarded myself as a genteel + semi-corpse, and didn't want to be disturbed.” + </p> + <p> + “And I disturbed you?” + </p> + <p> + “Until I danced with fury and called down on your dear head maledictions + which for fulness and snap would have made a mediaeval Pope squirm with + envy.” + </p> + <p> + She pressed my hand. “You are making fun again. I thought you were + serious.” + </p> + <p> + “I am. I'm telling you exactly what happened. Then, when I was rapidly + approaching the other world, it didn't matter. At last I died and came to + life again; but it took me a long time to come really to life. I was like + a tree in spring which has one bud which obstinately refuses to burst into + blossom. At last it did burst, and all the love that had been working in + my heart came to my lips; and, incidentally, my dear, to yours.” + </p> + <p> + This was at the early stages of her recovery, when one could only speak of + gentle things. She told me of her simple Odyssey—a period of waiting + in Paris, an engagement at Vienna and Budapest, and then Berlin. Her + agents had booked a week in Dresden, and a fortnight in Homburg, and she + would have to pay the forfeit for breach of contract. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry for Anastasius's sake,” she said. “The poor little mite wrote + me rapturous letters when he heard I was out with the cats. He gave me a + long special message for each, which I was to whisper in its ear.” + </p> + <p> + Poor little Anastasius Papadopoulos! She showed me his letters, written in + a great round, flourishing, sanguine hand. He seemed to be happy enough at + the Maison de Sante. He had formed, he said, a school for the cats of the + establishment, for which the authorities were very grateful, and he + heralded the completion of his gigantic combinations with regard to the + discovery of the assassin of the horse Sultan. Lola and I never spoke of + him without pain; for in spite of his crazy and bombastic oddities, he had + qualities that were lovable. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Lola, “I must tell him that Hephaestus has been killed and + the rest are again idling under the care of the faithful Quast. It seemed + a pity to kill the poor beast.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish to Heaven,” said I, “that he had been strangled at birth.” + </p> + <p> + “You never liked him.” She smiled wanly. “But he is scarcely to be blamed. + I grew unaccountably nervous and lost control. All savage animals are like + that.” And, seeing that I was about to protest vehemently, she smiled + again. “Remember, I'm a lion-tamer's daughter, and brought up from + childhood to regard these things as part of the show. There must always + come a second's failure of concentration. Lots of tamers meet their deaths + sooner or later for the same reason—just a sudden loss of magnetism. + The beast gets frightened and springs.” + </p> + <p> + Exactly what Quast had told me. Exactly what I myself had divined at the + sickening moment. I bowed my head and laid the back of her cool hand + against it, and groaned out my remorse. If I had not been there! If I had + not distracted her attention! She would not listen to my self-reproach. It + had nothing to do with me. She had simply missed her grip and lost her + head. She forbade me to mention the subject again. The misery of thinking + that I held myself to blame was unbearable. I said no more, realising the + acute distress of her generous soul, but in my heart I made a deep vow of + reparation. + </p> + <p> + It was, however, with no such chivalrous feelings, but out of the simple + longing to fulfil my life that I asked her definitely, for the first time, + to marry me as soon as she could get about the world again. I put before + her with what delicacy I could that if she had foolish ideas of my being + above her in station, she was above me in worldly fortune, and thus we + both had to make some sacrifices to our pride. I said that my work was + found—that our lives could be regulated as she wished. + </p> + <p> + She listened, without saying a word, until I had finished. Then she took + my hand. + </p> + <p> + “I'm grateful,” she said, “and I'm proud. And I know that I love you + beyond all things on earth. But I won't give you an answer till I'm up and + about on my feet again.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” I insisted. + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask. And don't mention the matter again. You must be good to me, + because I'm ill, and do what I say.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled and fondled my hand, and cajoled a reluctant promise from me. + </p> + <p> + Then came days in which, for no obvious reason, Lola received me with + anxious frightened diffidence, and spoke with constraint. The cheerfulness + which she had hitherto exhibited gave place to dull depression. She urged + me continually to leave Berlin, where, as she said, I was wasting my time, + and return to my work in London. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be all right, Simon, perfectly all right, and as soon as I can + travel, I'll come straight to London.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to let you slip through my fingers again,” I would say + laughingly. + </p> + <p> + “But I promise you, I'll swear to you I'll come back! Only I can't bear to + think of you idling around a woman's sick-bed, when you have such glorious + things to do at home. That's a man's work, Simon. This isn't.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is a man's work,” I would declare, “to devote himself to the woman + he loves and not to leave her helpless, a stranger in a strange land.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would go, Simon. I do wish you would go!” she would say + wearily. “It's the only favour I've ever asked you in my life.” + </p> + <p> + Man-like, I looked within myself to find the reason for these earnest + requests. In casting off my jester's suit had I also divested myself of + the power to be a decently interesting companion? Had I become merely a + dull, tactless, egotistical bore? Was I, in simple, naked, horrid fact, + getting on an invalid's delicate nerves? I was scared of the new picture + of myself thus presented. I became self-conscious and made particular + efforts to bring a little gaiety into our talk; but though she smiled with + her lips, the cloud, whatever it was, hung heavily on her mind, and at the + first opportunity she came back to the ceaseless argument. + </p> + <p> + In despair I took her nurse into my confidence. + </p> + <p> + “She is right,” said the nurse. “You are doing her more harm than good. + You had better go away and write to her daily from London.” + </p> + <p> + “But why—but why?” I clamoured. “Can't you give me any reason?” + </p> + <p> + The nurse glanced at me with a touch of feminine scorn. + </p> + <p> + “The bandages will soon be removed.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “The sight of one eye may be gone.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said I. “She is reconciled to it. She has the courage and + resignation of a saint.” + </p> + <p> + “She has also the very common and natural fears of a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven's sake,” I cried, “tell me plainly what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “We don't quite know what disfigurement will result,” said the nurse + bluntly. “It is certain to be very great, and the dread of your seeing her + is making her ill and retarding her recovery. So if you have any regard + for her, pack up your things and go away.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” I remonstrated, “I'm bound to see her sooner or later.” + </p> + <p> + The nurse lost patience. “Ach! Can't you get it into your head that it is + essential it should be later, when she is strong enough to stand the + strain and has realised the worst and made her little preparations?” + </p> + <p> + I accepted the rebuke meekly. The situation, when explained, was + comprehensible to the meanest masculine intelligence. + </p> + <p> + “I will go,” said I. + </p> + <p> + When I announced this determination to Lola she breathed a deep sigh of + relief. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be so much happier,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Then she raised both her arms and drew my head down until our lips met. + “Dear,” she whispered, still holding me, “if I hadn't run away from you + before I should run away now; but it would be silly to do it twice. So + I'll come to London as soon as the doctor will let me. But if you find you + don't and can't possibly love me I shan't feel hurt with you. I've had + some months, I know, of your love, and that will last me all my life; and + I know that whatever happens you'll be my very dear and devoted friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be your lover always!” I swore. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head and released me. A great pity welled up in my heart, + for I know now why she had forbidden me to speak of marriage, and in some + dim way I got to the depth of her woman's nature. I realised, as far as a + man can, how the sudden blasting of a woman's beauty must revolutionise + not only her own attitude towards the world, but her conception of the + world's attitude towards her. Only a few weeks before she had gone about + proudly conscious of her superb magnificence. It was the triumphant weapon + in her woman's armoury, to use when she so chose. It had illuminated a + man's journey (I knew and felt it now) through the Valley of the Shadow. + It had held his senses captive. It had brought him to her feet. It was a + charm that she could always offer to his eyes. It was her glory and her + pride to enhance it for his delectation. Her beauty was herself. That + gone, she had nothing but a worthless soul to offer, and what woman would + dream of offering a man her soul if she had no casket in which to enshrine + it? If I had presented this other aspect of the case to Lola, she would + have cried out, with perfect sincerity: + </p> + <p> + “My soul! You get things like mine anywhere for twopence a dozen.” + </p> + <p> + It was the blasting of her beauty that was the infinite matter. All that I + loved would be gone. She would have nothing left to give. The splendour of + the day had ceased, and now was coming the long, long, dreary night, to + meet which with dignity she was nerving her brave heart. + </p> + <p> + The tears were not far from my eyes when I said again softly: + </p> + <p> + “Your lover always, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Make no promises,” she said, “except one.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is?” + </p> + <p> + “That you will write me often until I come home.” + </p> + <p> + “Every day.” + </p> + <p> + So we parted, and I returned to London and to my duties at Barbara's + Building. I wrote daily, and her dictated answers gave me knowledge of her + progress. To my immense relief, I heard that the oculist's skill had saved + her eyesight; but it could not obliterate the traces of the cruel claws. + </p> + <p> + The days, although fuller with work and interests, appeared long until she + came. I saw but little of the outside world. Dale, my sister Agatha, Sir + Joshua Oldfield, and Campion were the only friends I met. Dale was + ingenuously sympathetic when he head of the calamity. + </p> + <p> + “What's going to happen?” he asked, after he had exhausted his vocabulary + of abuse on cats, Providence and Anastasius Papadopoulos. “What's the poor + dear going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “If I am going to have any voice in the matter,” said I, “she is going to + marry me.” + </p> + <p> + He wrung me by the hand enthusiastically and declared that I was the + splendidest fellow that ever lived. Then he sighed. + </p> + <p> + “I am going about like a sheep without a leader. For Heaven's sake, come + back into politics. Form a hilarious little party of your own—anything—so + long as you're back and take me with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to Barbara's Building,” said I. + </p> + <p> + But he made a wry face, and said that he did not think Maisie would like + it. I laughed and put my hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “My son, you have a leader already, and she has already tied a blue riband + round your woolly neck, and she is pulling you wherever she wants to go. + And it's all to the infinite advantage of your eternal soul.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon he grinned and departed to the sheepfold. + </p> + <p> + At last Lola came. She begged me not to meet her at the station, but to go + round after dinner to Cadogan Gardens. + </p> + <p> + Dawkins opened the door for me and showed me into the familiar + drawing-room. The long summer day was nearing its end, and only a dim + twilight came through the open windows. Lola was standing rigid on the + hearthrug, her hand shielding the whole of the right side of her face. + With the free hand she checked my impetuous advance. + </p> + <p> + “Stop and look!” she said, and then dropped the shielding hand, and stood + before me with twitching lips and death in her eyes. I saw in a flash the + devastation that had been wrought; but, thank God, I pierced beneath it to + the anguish in her heart. The pity—the awful, poignant pity—of + it smote me. Everything that was man in me surged towards her. What she + saw in my eyes I know not; but in hers dawned a sudden wonder. There was + no recoil of shock, such as she had steeled herself to encounter. I sprang + forward and clasped her in my arms. Her stiffened frame gradually relaxed + and our lips met, and in that kiss all fears and doubts were dissolved for + ever. + </p> + <p> + Some hours later she said: “If you are blind enough to care for a maimed + thing like me, I can't help it. I shall never understand it to my dying + day,” she added with a long sigh. + </p> + <p> + “And you will marry me?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I've got to,” she replied. And with the old pantherine twist of + her body she slid from her easy-chair to the ground and buried her face on + my knees. + </p> + <p> + And that is the end of my story. We were quietly married three weeks + afterwards. Agatha, wishing to humour a maniac for whom she retained an + unreasonable affection, came to the wedding and treated Lola as only a + sweet lady could. But my doings passed her understanding. As for Jane, my + other sister, she cast me from her. People who did these things, she + maintained, must bear the consequences. I bore them bravely. It is only + now that my name is beginning to be noised abroad as that of one who + speaks with some knowledge on certain social questions that Jane holds out + the olive branch of fraternal peace. After a brief honeymoon Lola insisted + on joining me in Barbara's Building. A set of rooms next to mine was + vacant, and Campion, who welcomed a new worker, had the two sets thrown + into what house-agents term a commodious flat. She is now Lady Superior of + the Institution. The title is Campion's, and for some odd feminine reason + Lola is delighted with it. + </p> + <p> + Yes, this is the end of the story which I began (it seems in a previous + incarnation) at Murglebed-on-Sea. + </p> + <p> + The maiming of Lola's beauty has been the last jest which the Arch-Jester + has practised on me. I fancy he thought that this final scurvy trick would + wipe Simon de Gex for ever out of the ranks of his rivals. But I flatter + myself that, having snapped my fingers in his face, the last laugh has + been on my side. He has withdrawn discomfited from the conflict and left + me master of the ground. Love conquers all, even the Arch-Jester. + </p> + <p> + There are some who still point to me as one who has deliberately ruined a + brilliant career, who pity me as one who has gone under, who speak with + shrugged shoulders and uplifted eyebrows at my unfortunate marriage and my + obscure and cranky occupation. The world, they say, was at my feet. So it + was. But what the pitying critics lack the grace to understand is that + better than to have it under one's feet is to have it, or that of it which + matters, at one's heart. + </p> + <p> + I sit in this tiny hotel by the sea and reflect that it is over three + years since I awoke from death and assumed a new avatar. And since my + marriage, what have been the happenings? + </p> + <p> + Dale has just been elected for the Fensham Division of Westmoreland, and + he has already begun the line of sturdy young Kynnersleys, of which I had + eumoirous dreams long ago. Quast and the cats have passed into alien + hands. Anastasius Papadopoulos is dead. He died three months ago of angina + pectoris, and Lola was with him at the end. Eleanor Faversham has married + a Colonial bishop. Campion, too, has married—and married the last + woman in the world to whom one would have thought of mating him—a + frivolous butterfly of a creature who drags him to dinner-parties and + Ascot and suppers at the Savoy, and holds Barbara's Building and all it + connotes in vixenish detestation. He roars out the agony of his + philanthropic spirit to Lola and myself, who administer consolation and + the cold mutton that he loves. The story of his marriage is a little + lunatic drama all to itself and I will tell it some day. But now I can + only rough-sketch the facts. He works when he can at the beloved creation + of his life and fortune; but the brain that would be inadequate to the + self-protecting needs of a ferret controls the action of this masterful + enthusiast, and his one awful despair in life is to touch a heart that + might beat in the bosom of a vicious and calculating haddock. I only + mention this to explain how it has come to pass that Lola and I are now + all-powerful in Barbara's Building. It has become the child of our + adoption and we love it with a deep and almost fanatic affection. Before + Lola my influence and personality fade into nothingness. She is the power, + the terror, the adoration of Lambeth. If she chose she could control the + Parliamentary vote of the borough. Her great, direct, large-hearted + personality carries all before it. And with it there is something of the + uncanny. A feat of hers in the early days is by way of becoming legendary. + </p> + <p> + A woman, on the books of the Building, was about to bring a hopeless human + fragment into a grey world. Lola went to see what aid the Building could + provide. In front of the door lounged the husband, a hulking porter in a + Bermondsey factory. Glowering at his feet lay a vicious mongrel dog—bull-terrier, + Irish-terrier, mastiff—so did Lola with her trained eye distinguish + the strains. When she asked for his wife in travail the chivalrous + gentleman took his pipe from his mouth, spat, and after the manner of his + kind referred to the disfigurement of her face in terms impossible to + transcribe. She paid no attention. + </p> + <p> + “I'm coming upstairs to see your wife.” + </p> + <p> + “If you pass that door, s'welp me Gawd, I'll set the dog on yer.” + </p> + <p> + She paused. He urged the dog, who bristled and growled and showed his + teeth. Lola picked the animal up, as she would have picked up a sofa + cushion, and threw him across the street. She went to where he had fallen, + ordered him to his feet, and the dog licked her hand. She came back with a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I'll do the same to you if you don't let me in!” + </p> + <p> + She pushed the hulking brute aside. He resisted and laid hands on her. By + some extraordinary tamer's art of which she had in vain tried to explain + to me the secret, and with no apparent effort, she glided away from him + and sent him cowering and subdued some feet beyond the lintel of the door. + The street, which was watching, went into a roar of laughter and applause. + Lola mounted the stairs and attended to the business in hand. When she + came down the man was still standing at the threshold smoking an + obfusticated pipe. He blinked at her as if she had been a human dynamo. + </p> + <p> + “Come round to Barbara's Building at six o'clock and tell me how she is.” + </p> + <p> + He came on the stroke of six. + </p> + <p> + The fame of Lola spread through the borough, and now she can walk feared, + honoured, unmolested by night or by day through the streets of horror and + crime, which neither I nor any other man—no matter how courageous—dare + enter at certain hours without the magical protection of a policeman. + </p> + <p> + Sunshine has come at last, both into this little backwater of the world by + the sea and into my own life, and it is time I should end this futile + record. + </p> + <p> + Yesterday as we lay on the sands, watching the waves idly lap the shore, + Lola brought herself nearer to me with a rhythmic movement as no other + creature form of woman is capable of, and looked into my eyes. And she + whispered something to me which led to an infinite murmuring of foolish + things. I put my arms round her and kissed her on the lips and on her + cheek—whether the beautiful or the maimed I knew not—and she + sank into a long, long silence. At last she said: + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + I said, “I'm thinking that not a single human being on the face of the + earth has a sense of humour.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Simply this,” said I, “that what has occurred billions of billions of + millions of times on the earth we are now regarding as the only thing that + ever happened.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Lola, “so it is—for us—the only thing that ever + happened.” + </p> + <p> + And the astounding woman was right. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Simon the Jester, by William J. 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Locke + +Release Date: April 13, 2006 [EBook #3828] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIMON THE JESTER *** + + + + +Produced by Dagny; John Bickers + + + + + +SIMON THE JESTER + + +By William J. Locke + + + + +CHAPTER I + +I met Renniker the other day at the club. He is a man who knows +everything--from the method of trimming a puppy's tail for a dog-show, +without being disqualified, to the innermost workings of the mind of +every European potentate. If I want information on any subject under +heaven I ask Renniker. + +"Can you tell me," said I, "the most God-forsaken spot in England?" + +Renniker, being in a flippant mood, mentioned a fashionable +watering-place on the South Coast. I pleaded the seriousness of my +question. + +"What I want," said I, "is a place compared to which Golgotha, Aceldama, +the Dead Sea, the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and the Bowery would be leafy +bowers of uninterrupted delight." + +"Then Murglebed-on-Sea is what you're looking for," said Renniker. "Are +you going there at once?" + +"At once," said I. + +"It's November," said he, "and a villainous November at that; so you'll +see Murglebed-on-Sea in the fine flower of its desolation." + +I thanked him, went home, and summoned my excellent man Rogers. + +"Rogers," said I, "I am going to the seaside. I heard that Murglebed +is a nice quiet little spot. You will go down and inspect it for me and +bring back a report." + +He went blithe and light-hearted, though he thought me insane; he +returned with the air of a serving-man who, expecting to find a +well-equipped pantry, had wandered into a charnel house. + +"It's an awful place, sir. It's sixteen miles from a railway station. +The shore is a mud flat. There's no hotel, and the inhabitants are like +cannibals." + +"I start for Murglebed-on-Sea to-morrow," said I. + +Rogers started at me. His loose mouth quivered like that of a child +preparing to cry. + +"We can't possibly stay there, sir," he remonstrated. + +"_We_ are not going to try," I retorted. "I'm going by myself." + +His face brightened. Almost cheerfully he assured me that I should find +nothing to eat in Murglebed. + +"You can amuse yourself," said I, "by sending me down a daily hamper of +provisions." + +"There isn't even a church," he continued. + +"Then you can send me down a tin one from Humphreys'. I believe they can +supply one with everything from a tin rabbit-hutch to a town hall." + +He sighed and departed, and the next day I found myself here, in +Murglebed-on-Sea. + +On a murky, sullen November day Murglebed exhibits unimagined horrors +of scenic depravity. It snarls at you malignantly. It is like a bit of +waste land in Gehenna. There is a lowering, soap-suddy thing a mile away +from the more or less dry land which local ignorance and superstition +call the sea. The interim is mud--oozy, brown, malevolent mud. Sometimes +it seems to heave as if with the myriad bodies of slimy crawling eels +and worms and snakes. A few foul boats lie buried in it. + +Here and there, on land, a surly inhabitant spits into it. If you +address him he snorts at you unintelligibly. If you turn your back to +the sea you are met by a prospect of unimagined despair. There are +no trees. The country is flat and barren. A dismal creek runs miles +inland--an estuary fed by the River Murgle. A few battered cottages, a +general shop, a couple of low public-houses, and three perky red-brick +villas all in a row form the city, or town, or village, or what you +will, of Murglebed-on-Sea. Renniker is a wonderful man. + +I have rented a couple of furnished rooms in one of the villas. It has +a decayed bit of front garden in which a gnarled, stunted stick is +planted, and it is called The Laburnums. My landlord, the owner of +the villas, is a builder. What profits he can get from building in +Murglebed, Heaven alone knows; but, as he mounts a bicycle in the +morning and disappears for the rest of the day, I presume he careers +over the waste, building as he goes. In the evenings he gets drunk at +the Red Cow; so I know little of him, save that he is a red-faced man, +with a Moustache like a tooth-brush and two great hands like hams. + +His wife is taciturn almost to dumbness. She is a thick-set, +black-haired woman, and looks at me disapprovingly out of the corner of +her eye as if I were a blackbeetle which she would like to squash under +foot. She tolerates me, however, on account of the tongues and other +sustenance sent by Rogers from Benoist, of which she consumes prodigious +quantities. She wonders, as far as the power of wonder is given to her +dull brain, what on earth I am doing here. I see her whispering to her +friends as I enter the house, and I know they are wondering what I am +doing here. The whole village regards me as a humorous zoological freak, +and wonders what I am doing here among normal human beings. + +And what am I doing here--I, Simon de Gex, M.P., the spoilt darling of +fortune, as my opponent in the Labour interest called me during the last +electoral campaign? My disciple and secretary, young Dale Kynnersley, +the only mortal besides Rogers who knows my whereabouts, trembles for +my reason. In the eyes of the excellent Rogers I am horn-mad. What my +constituents would think did they see me taking the muddy air on a soggy +afternoon, I have no conception. Dale keeps them at bay. He also baffles +the curiosity of my sisters, and by his diplomacy has sent Eleanor +Faversham on a huffy trip to Sicily. She cannot understand why I bury +myself in bleak solitude, instead of making cheerful holiday among the +oranges and lemons of the South. + +Eleanor is a girl with a thousand virtues, each of which she expects to +find in counterpart in the man to whom she is affianced. Until a week or +two ago I actually thought myself in love with Eleanor. There seemed +a whimsical attraction in the idea of marrying a girl with a thousand +virtues. Before me lay the pleasant prospect of reducing them--say, ten +at a time--until I reached the limit at which life was possible, +and then one by one until life became entertaining. I admired her +exceedingly--a strapping, healthy English girl who looked you straight +in the eyes and gripped you fearlessly by the hand. + +My friends "lucky-dog'd" me until I began to smirk to myself at my own +good fortune. She visited the constituency and comported herself as if +she had been a Member's wife since infancy, thereby causing my heart to +swell with noble pride. This unparalleled young person compelled me to +take my engagement almost seriously. If I shot forth a jest, it struck +against a virtue and fell blunted to the earth. Indeed, even now I am +sorry I can't marry Eleanor. But marriage is out of the question. + +I have been told by the highest medical authorities that I may manage to +wander in the flesh about this planet for another six months. After that +I shall have to do what wandering I yearn for through the medium of my +ghost. There is a certain humourousness in the prospect. Save for an +occasional pain somewhere inside me, I am in the most robust health. + +But this same little pain has been diagnosed by the Faculty as the +symptom of an obscure disease. An operation, they tell me, would kill +me on the spot. What it is called I cannot for the life of me remember. +They gave it a kind of lingering name, which I wrote down on my +shirt-cuff. + +The name or characteristics of the thing, however, do not matter a fig. +I have always hated people who talked about their insides, and I am not +going to talk about mine, even to myself. Clearly, if it is only going +to last me six months, it is not worth talking about. But the quaint +fact of its brief duration is worth the attention of a contemplative +mind. + +It is in order perfectly to focus this attention that I have come to +Murglebed-on-Sea. Here I am alone with the murk and the mud and my own +indrawn breath of life. There are no flowers, blue sky, smiling eyes, +and dainty faces--none of the adventitious distractions of the +earth. There are no Blue-books. Before the Faculty made their jocular +pronouncement I had been filling my head with statistics on pauper +lunacy so as to please my constituency, in which the rate has increased +alarmingly of late years. Perhaps that is why I found myself their +representative in Parliament. I was to father a Bill on the subject next +session. Now the labour will fall on other shoulders. I interest myself +in pauper lunacy no more. A man requires less flippant occupation for +the premature sunset of his days. Well, in Murglebed I can think, I +can weigh the _pros_ and _cons_ of existence with an even mind, I can +accustom myself to the concept of a Great Britain without Simon de Gex. +M.P. + +Of course, when I go I shall "cast one longing, lingering look behind." +I don't particularly want to die. In fact, having otherwise the prospect +of an entertaining life, I regard my impending dissolution in the light +of a grievance. But I am not afraid. I shall go through the dismal +formality with a graceful air and as much of a smile on my face as the +pain in my inside will physically permit. + +My dear but somewhat sober-sided friend Marcus Aurelius says: "Let death +surprise me when it will, and where it will, I may be _eumoiros_, or +a happy man, nevertheless. For he is a happy man who in his lifetime +dealeth unto himself a happy lot and portion. A happy lot and portion in +good inclinations of the soul, good desires, good actions." + +The word _eumoiros_ according to the above definition, tickles my fancy. +I would give a great deal to be eumoirous. What a thing to say: "I have +achieved eumoiriety,"--namely the quintessence of happy-fatedness dealt +unto oneself by a perfect altruism! + +I don't think that hitherto my soul has been very evilly inclined, my +desires base, or my actions those of a scoundrel. Still, the negatives +do not qualify one for eumoiriety. One wants something positive. I +have an idea, therefore, of actively dealing unto myself a happy lot or +portion according to the Marcian definition during the rest of the time +I am allowed to breathe the upper air. And this will be fairly easy; +for no matter how excellently a man's soul may be inclined to the +performance of a good action, in ninety cases out of a hundred he is +driven away from it by dread of the consequences. Your moral teachers +seldom think of this--that the consequences of a good action are often +more disastrous than those of an evil one. But if a man is going to die, +he can do good with impunity. He can simply wallow in practical virtue. +When the boomerang of his beneficence comes back to hit him on the +head--_he won't be there to feel it_. He can thus hoist Destiny with its +own petard, and, besides, being eumoirous, can spend a month or two in a +peculiarly diverting manner. The more I think of the idea the more am +I in love with it. I am going to have a seraph of a time. I am going to +play the archangel. + +I shall always have pleasant memories of Murglebed. Such an idea could +not have germinated in any other atmosphere. In the scented groves of +sunny lands there would have been sown Seeds of Regret, which would have +blossomed eventually into Flowers of Despair. I should have gone about +the world, a modern Admetus, snivelling at my accursed luck, without +even the chance of persuading a soft-hearted Alcestis to die for me. I +should have been a dismal nuisance to society. + +"Bless you," I cried this afternoon, waving, as I leaned against a +post, my hand to the ambient mud, "Renniker was wrong! You are not a +God-forsaken place. You are impregnated with divine inspiration." + +A muddy man in a blue jersey and filthy beard who occupied the next post +looked at me and spat contemptuously. I laughed. + +"If you were Marcus Aurelius," said I, "I would make a joke--a short +life and an eumoiry one--and he would have looked as pained as you." + +"What?" he bawled. He was to windward of me. + +I knew that if I repeated my observation he would offer to fight me. I +approached him suavely. + +"I was wondering," I said, "as it's impossible to strike a match in this +wind, whether you would let me light my pipe from yours." + +"It's empty," he growled. + +"Take a fill from my pouch," said I. + +The mud-turtle loaded his pipe, handed me my pouch without +acknowledgment, stuck his pipe in his breeches pocket, spat again, and, +deliberately turning his back, on me, lounged off to another post on a +remoter and less lunatic-ridden portion of the shore. Again I laughed, +feeling, as the poet did with the daffodils, that one could not but be +gay in such a jocund company. + +There are no amenities or urbanities of life in Murglebed to choke the +growth of the Idea. This evening it flourishes so exceedingly that I +think it safe to transplant it in the alien soil of Q 3, The Albany, +where the good Rogers must be leading an idle existence peculiarly +deleterious to his morals. + +This gives one furiously to think. One of the responsibilities of +eumoiriety must be the encouragement and development of virtue in my +manservant. + +Also in my young friend and secretary, Dale Kynnersley. He is more to me +than Rogers. I may confess that, so long as Rogers is a sober, honest, +me-fearing valet, in my heart of hearts I don't care a hang about +Rogers's morals. But about those of Dale Kynnersley I do. I care a great +deal for his career and happiness. I have a notion that he is erring +after strange goddesses and neglecting the little girl who is in love +with him. He must be delivered. He must marry Maisie Ellerton, and the +two of them must bring lots of capable, clear-eyed Kynnersleys into the +world. I long to be their ghostly godfather. + +Then there's Eleanor Faversham--but if I begin to draw up a programme +I shall lose that spontaneity of effort which, I take it, is one of the +chief charms of dealing unto oneself a happy lot and portion. No; my +soul abhors tabulation. It would make even six months' life as jocular +as Bradshaw's Railway Guide or the dietary of a prison. I prefer to look +on what is before me as a high adventure, and with that prospect in view +I propose to jot down my experiences from time to time, so that when I +am wandering, a pale shade by Acheron, young Dale Kynnersley may have +not only documentary evidence wherewith to convince my friends and +relations that my latter actions were not those of a lunatic, but also, +at the same time, an up-to-date version of Jeremy Taylor's edifying +though humour-lacking treatise on the act of dying, which I am sorely +tempted to label "The Rule and Example of Eumoiriety." I shall resist +the temptation, however. Dale Kynnersley--such is the ignorance of the +new generation--would have no sense of the allusion. He would shake his +head and say, "Dotty, poor old chap, dotty!" I can hear him. And if, in +order to prepare him, I gave him a copy of the "Meditations," he +would fling the book across the room and qualify Marcus Aurelius as a +"rotter." + +Dale is a very shrewd fellow, and will make an admirable legislator +when his time comes. Although his highest intellectual recreation is +reiterated attendance at the musical comedy that has caught his fancy +for the moment and his favourite literature the sporting pages of the +daily papers, he has a curious feline pounce on the salient facts of +a political situation, and can thread the mazes of statistics with the +certainty of a Hampton Court guide. His enthusiastic researches (on my +behalf) into pauper lunacy are remarkable in one so young. I foresee +him an invaluable chairman of committee. But he will never become a +statesman. He has too passionate a faith in facts and figures, and has +not cultivated a sense of humour at the expense of the philosophers. +Young men who do not read them lose a great deal of fun. + +Well, to-morrow I leave Murglebed for ever; it has my benison. +Democritus returns to London. + + + +CHAPTER II + +I was at breakfast on the morning after my arrival in London, when Dale +Kynnersley rushed in and seized me violently by the hand. + +"By Jove, here you are at last!" + +I smoothed my crushed fingers. "You have such a vehement manner of +proclaiming the obvious, my dear Dale." + +"Oh, rot!" he said. "Here, Rogers, give me some tea--and I think I'll +have some toast and marmalade." + +"Haven't you breakfasted?" + +A cloud overspread his ingenuous countenance. + +"I came down late, and everything was cold and mother was on edge. +The girls are always doing the wrong things and I never do the right +ones--you know the mater--so I swallowed a tepid kidney and rushed off." + +"Save for her worries over you urchins," said I, "I hope Lady Kynnersley +is well?" + +He filled his mouth with toast and marmalade, and nodded. He is a +good-looking boy, four-and-twenty--idyllic age! He has sleek black hair +brushed back from his forehead over his head, an olive complexion, and +a keen, open, clean-shaven face. He wore a dark-brown lounge suit and +a wine-coloured tie, and looked immaculate. I remember him as the +grubbiest little wretch that ever disgraced Harrow. + +He swallowed his mouthful and drank some tea. + +"Recovered your sanity?" he asked. + +"The dangerous symptoms have passed over," I replied. "I undertake not +to bite." + +He regarded me as though he were not quite certain, and asked in his +pronounless way whether I was glad to be back in London. + +"Yes," said I. "Rogers is the only human creature who can properly wax +the ends of my moustache. It got horribly limp in the air of Murglebed. +That is the one and only disadvantage of the place." + +"Doesn't seem to have done you much good," he remarked, scanning me +critically. "You are as white as you were before you went away. Why the +blazes you didn't go to Madeira, or the South of France, or South Africa +I can't imagine." + +"I don't suppose you can," said I. "Any news?" + +"I should think I have! But first let me go through the appointments." + +He consulted a pocket-book. On December 2nd I was to dine with Tanners' +Company and reply to the toast of "The House of Commons." On the 4th +my constituency claimed me for the opening of a bazaar at Wymington. +A little later I was to speak somewhere in the North of England at a +by-election in support of the party candidate. + +"It will be fought on Tariff Reform, about which I know nothing," I +objected. + +"I know everything," he declared. "I'll see you through. You must buck +up a bit, Simon, and get your name better known about the country. And +this brings me to my news. I was talking to Raggles the other day--he +dropped a hint, and Raggles's hints are jolly well worth while picking +up. Just come to the front and show yourself, and there's a place in the +Ministry." + +"Ministry?" + +"Sanderson's going." + +"Sanderson?" I queried, interested, in spite of myself, at these +puerilities. "What's the matter with him?" + +"Swelled head. There have been awful rows--this is confidential--and +he's got the hump. Thinks he ought to be the Chancellor of the +Exchequer, or at least First Lord, instead of an Under Secretary. So +he's going to chuck it, before he gets the chuck himself--see?" + +"I perceive," said I, "that your conversational English style is +abominable." + +He lit a cigarette and continued, loftily taking no notice of my rebuke. + +"There's bound to be a vacancy. Why shouldn't you fill it? They seem to +want you. You're miles away over the heads of the average solemn duffers +who get office." + +I bowed acknowledgment of his tribute. + +"Well, you will buck up and try for it, won't you? I'm awfully proud +of you already, but I should go off my head with joy if you were in the +Ministry." + +I met his honest young eyes as well as I could. How was I going to +convey to his candid intelligence the fact of my speedy withdrawal from +political life without shattering his illusions? Besides, his devotion +touched me, and his generous aspirations were so futile. Office! It was +in my grasp. Raggles, with his finger always on the pulse of the party +machine, was the last man in the world to talk nonsense. I only had to +"buck up." Yet by the time Sanderson sends in his resignation to the +King of England, I shall have sent in mine to the King of Hosts. I moved +slightly in my chair, and a twinge of the little pain inside brought a +gasp to my throat. But I felt grateful to it. It was saving me from an +unconscionable deal of worry. Fancy going to a confounded office every +morning like a clerk in the City! I was happier at peace. I rose and +warmed myself by the fire. Dale regarded me uncomprehendingly. + +"You look as if the prospect bored you to tears. I thought you would be +delighted." + +"_Vanitas vanitatum_," said I. "_Omnia vanitas_." + +"Rot!" said Dale. + +"It's true." + +"I must fetch Eleanor Faversham back from Sicily," said Dale. + +"Don't," said I. + +"Well, I give you up," he declared, pushing his chair from the table and +swinging one leg across the other. I leaned forward and scrutinised his +ankles. + +"What are you looking at?" + +"There must be something radically wrong with you, Dale," I murmured +sympathetically. "It is part of the religion of your generation to wear +socks to match your tie. To-day your tie is wine-coloured and your socks +are green----" + +"Good Lord," he cried, "so they are! I dressed myself anyhow this +morning." + +"What's wrong with you?" + +He threw his cigarette impatiently into the fire. + +"Every infernal thing that can possibly be. Everything's rotten--but +I've not come here to talk about myself." + +"Why not?" + +"It isn't the game. I'm here on your business, which is ever so much +more important than mine. Where are this morning's letters?" + +I pointed to an unopened heap on a writing-table at the end of the room. +He crossed and sat down before them. Presently he turned sharply. + +"You haven't looked through the envelopes. Here is one from Sicily." + +I took the letter from him, and sighed to myself as I read it. Eleanor +was miserable. The Sicilians were dirty. The Duomo of Palermo did +not come up to her expectations. The Mobray-Robertsons, with whom she +travelled, quarrelled with their food. They had never even heard of +Theocritus. She had a cold in her head, and was utterly at a loss to +explain my attitude. Therefore she was coming back to London. + +I wish I could find her a nice tame husband who had heard of Theocritus. +It would be such a good thing for everybody, husband included. For, I +repeat, Eleanor is a young woman of fine character, and the man to whom +she gives her heart will be a fortunate fellow. + +While I was reading the letter and meditating on it, with my back to +the fire, Dale plunged into the morning's correspondence with an air of +enjoyment. That is the astonishing thing about him. He loves work. +The more I give him to do the better he likes it. His cronies, who in +raiment, manners, and tastes differ from him no more than a row of pins +differs from a stray brother, regard a writing-chair as a mediaeval +instrument of torture, and faint at the sight of ink. They will put +themselves to all kinds of physical and pecuniary inconvenience in order +to avoid regular employment. They are the tramps of the fashionable +world. But in vain do they sing to Dale of the joys of silk-hatted and +patent-leather-booted vagabondage and deride his habits of industry; +Dale turns a deaf ear to them and urges on his strenuous career. Rogers, +coming in to clear away the breakfast things, was despatched by my young +friend to fetch a portfolio from the hall. It contained, he informed +me, the unanswered letters of the past fortnight with which he had +found himself unqualified to deal. He grasped the whole bundle of +correspondence, and invited me to follow him to the library and start on +a solid morning's work. I obeyed meekly. He sat down at the big table, +arranged the pile in front of him, took a pencil from the tray, and +began: + +"This is from Finch, of the _Universal Review_." + +I put my hand on his shoulder. + +"Tell him, my boy, that it's against my custom to breakfast at afternoon +tea, and that I hope his wife is well." + +At his look of bewilderment I broke into a laugh. + +"He wants me to write a dull article for his stupid paper, doesn't he?" + +"Yes, on Poor Law Administration." + +"I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to do anything these people ask +me. Say 'No, no, no, no,' to everybody." + +"In Heaven's name, Simon," he cried, laying down his pencil, "what has +come over you?" + +"Old age," said I. + +He uttered his usual interjection, and added that I was only +thirty-seven. + +"Age is a relative thing," I remarked. "Babes of five have been known +to die of senile decay, and I have seen irresponsible striplings of +seventy." + +"I really think Eleanor Faversham had better come back from Sicily." + +I tapped the letter still in my hand. "She's coming." + +"I'm jolly glad to hear it. It's all my silly fault that she went away. +I thought she was getting on your nerves. But you want pulling together. +That confounded place you've been to has utterly upset you." + +"On the contrary," said I, "it has steadied and amplified my conception +of sublunary affairs. It has shown me that motley is much more +profitable wear than the edged toga of the senator--" + +"Oh, for God's sake, dry up," cried young England, "and tell me what +answers I'm to give these people!" + +He seemed so earnest about it that I humoured him; and my correspondents +seemed so earnest that I humoured them. But it was a grim jest. Most of +the matters with which I had to deal appeared so trivial. Only here and +there did I find a chance for eumoiriety. The Wymington Hospital applied +for their annual donation. + +"You generally give a tenner," said Dale. + +"This time I'll give them a couple of hundred," said I. + +Dale earmarked the amount wonderingly; but when I ordered him to send +five pounds apiece to the authors of various begging letters he argued +vehemently and quoted the Charity Organisation Society. + +"They're frauds, all of them," he maintained. + +"They're poor necessitous devils, at any rate," said I, "and they want +the money more than I do." + +This was a truth whose significance Dale was far from realising. Of +what value, indeed, is money to me? There is none to whom I can usefully +bequeath my little fortune, my sisters having each married rich men. I +shall not need even Charon's obolus when I am dead, for we have ceased +to believe in him--which is a pity, as the trip across the Styx must +have been picturesque. Why, then, should I not deal myself a happy lot +and portion by squandering my money benevolently during my lifetime? + +It behooves me, however, to walk warily in this as in other matters, for +if my actions too closely resemble those of a lunatic at large, trustees +may be appointed to administer my affairs, which would frustrate my +plans entirely. + +When my part in the morning's work was over, I informed my secretary +that I would go out and take the air till lunch-time. + +"If you've nothing better to do," said he, "you might run round to +Eccleston Square and see my mother." + +"For any particular reason?" + +"She wants to see you. Home for inebriate parrots or something. Gave me +a message for you this morning." + +"I'll wait," said I, "on Lady Kynnersley with pleasure." + +I went out and walked down the restful covered way of the Albany to +the Piccadilly entrance, and began my taking of the air. It was a soft +November day, full of blue mist, and invested with a dying grace by a +pale sunshine struggling through thin, grey rain-cloud. It was a faded +lady of a day--a lady of waxen cheeks, attired in pearl-grey and +old lace, her dim eyes illumined by a last smile. It gave an air +of unreality to the perspective of tall buildings, and treated with +indulgent irony the passing show of humans--on foot, on omnibuses, in +cabs and motors--turning them into shadow shapes tending no whither. +I laughed to myself. They all fancied themselves so real. They all had +schemes in their heads, as if they were going to live a thousand years. +I walked westwards past the great clubs, moralising as I went, and +feeling the reaction from the excitement of Murglebed-on-Sea. I looked +up at one of my own clubs, a comfortable resting-place, and it struck +me as possessing more attractions than the family vault in Highgate +Cemetery. An acquaintance at the window waved his hand at me. I thought +him a lucky beggar to have that window to stand by when the street will +be flooded with summer sunshine and the trees in the green Park opposite +wave in their verdant bravery. A little further a radiant being, all +chiffons and millinery, on her way to Bond Street for more millinery and +chiffons, smiled at me and put forth a delicately-gloved hand. + +"Oh, Mr. de Gex, you're the very man I was longing to see!" + +"How simply are some human aspirations satisfied!" said I. + +"Farfax"--that's her husband, Farfax Glenn, a Member on my side of the +House--"Farfax and I are making plans already for the Easter recess. We +are going to motor to Athens, and you must come with us. You can tell us +all about everything as we pass by." + +I looked grave. "Easter is late next year." + +"What does that matter? Say you'll come." + +"Alas! my dear Mrs. Glenn," I said, with a smile, "I have an engagement +at Easter--a very important one." + +"I thought the wedding was not to take place till June." + +"It isn't the wedding," said I. + +"Then break the engagement." + +"It's beyond human power," said I. + +She held up her bracelet, from which dangled some charms. + +"I think you're a ----" And she pointed to a little golden pig. + +"I'm not," I retorted. + +"What are you, then?" + +"I'm a gentleman in a Greek tragedy." + +We laughed and parted, and I went on my way cheered by the encounter. +I had spoken the exact truth, and found amusement in doing so. One has +often extracted humour from the contemplation of the dissolution of +others--that of the giant in "Jack the Giant-killer" for instance, and +the demise of the little boy with the pair of skates in the poem. Why +not extract it from the contemplation of one's own? + +The only disadvantage of my position is that it give me, in spite of +myself, an odd sense of isolation from my kind. They are looking forward +to Easters and Junes and summers, and I am not. I also have a fatuous +feeling of superiority in being in closer touch than they with eternal +verities. I must take care that I do not play too much to the gallery, +that I do not grow too conceited over the singularity of my situation, +and arrive at the mental attitude of the criminal whose dominant +solicitude in connection with his execution was that he should be hanged +in his dress clothes. These reflections brought me to Eccleston Square. + +Lady Kynnersley is that type of British matron who has children in fits +of absent-mindedness, and to whom their existence is a perpetual +shock. Her main idea in marrying the late Sir Thomas Kynnersley was to +associate herself with his political and philanthropic schemes. She is +the born committee woman, to whom a home represents a place where one +sleeps and eats in order to maintain the strength required for the +performance of committee duties. Her children have always been outside +the sphere of her real interests, but, afflicted, as such women are, +with chronic inflammation of the conscience, she had devoted the most +scrupulous care to their upbringing. She formed herself into a society +for the protection of her own children, and managed them by means of a +committee, which consisted of herself, and of which she was the honorary +secretary. She drew up articles of association and regulations. If Dale +contracted measles, she applied by-law 17. If Janet slapped +Dorothy, by-law 32 was brought into play. When Dale clamoured for +a rocking-horse, she found that the articles of association did not +provide for imaginative equitation. As the children grew up, the +committee had from time to time to revise the articles and submit them +to the general body for approval. There were many meetings before the +new sections relating to a University career for the boy and the coming +out for the girls were satisfactorily drafted. Once given the effect +of law, however, there was no appeal against these provisions. Both +committee and general body were powerless. Dale certainly owed his +methodical habits to his mechanical training, but whence he derived and +how he maintained his exuberance and spontaneity has often puzzled +me. He himself accounts for it on the score of heredity, in that an +ancestress of his married a highwayman who was hanged at Tyburn under +William and Mary. + +In person Lady Kynnersley is lean and blanched and grey-haired. She +wears gold spectacles, which stand out oddly against the thin whiteness +of her face; she is still a handsome, distinguished woman, who can have, +when she chooses, a most gracious manner. As I, worldling and jester +though I am, for some mysterious reason have found favour in the lady's +eyes, she manifests this graciousness whenever we foregather. Ergo, +I like Lady Kynnersley, and would put myself to much inconvenience in +order to do her a service. + +She kept me waiting in the drawing-room but a minute before she made +her appearance, grasped my hand, proclaimed my goodness in responding +so soon to her call, bade me sit down on the sofa by her side, inquired +after my health, and, the gods of politeness being propitiated, plunged +at once into the midst of matters. + +Dale was going downhill headlong to Gadarene catastrophe. He had no +eyes or ears or thoughts for any one in the world but for a certain Lola +Brandt, a brazen creature from a circus, the shape of whose limbs was +the common knowledge of mankind from Dublin to Yokohama, and whose path +by sea and land, from Yokohama to Dublin, was strewn with the bodies of +her victims. With this man-eating tigress, declared Lady Kynnersley, +was Dale infatuated. He scorched himself morning, noon, and night in her +devastating presence. Had cut himself adrift from home, from society. +Had left trailing about on his study table a jeweller's bill for a +diamond bracelet. Was committing follies that made my brain reel to +hear. Had threatened, if worried much longer, to marry the Scarlet One +incontinently. Heaven knew, cried Lady Kynnersley, how many husbands +she had already--scattered along the track between Dublin and Yokohama. +There was no doubt about it. Dale was hurtling down to everlasting +bonfire. She looked to me to hold out the restraining hand. + +"You have already spoken to Dale on the subject?" I asked, mindful of +the inharmonious socks and tie. + +"I can talk to him of nothing else," said Lady Kynnersley desperately. + +"That's a pity," said I. "You should talk to him of Heaven, or pigs, or +Babylonic cuneiform--anything but Lola Brandt. You ought to go to work +on a different system." + +"But I haven't a system at all," cried the poor lady. "How was I to +foresee that my only son was going to fall in love with a circus rider? +These are contingencies in life for which one, with all the thought in +the world, can make no provision. I had arranged, as you know, that +he should marry Maisie Ellerton, as charming a girl as ever there was. +Isn't she? And an independent fortune besides." + +"A rosebud wrapped in a gold leaf," I murmured. + +"Now he's breaking the child's heart----" + +"There was never any engagement between them, I am sure of that," I +remarked. + +"There wasn't. But I gave her to understand it was a settled +affair--merely a question of Dale speaking. And, instead of speaking, +he will have nothing to do with her, and spends all his time--and, +I suppose, though I don't like to refer to it, all his money--in the +society of this unmentionable woman." + +"Is she really so--so red as she is painted?" I asked. + +"She isn't painted at all. That's where her artful and deceitful devilry +comes in----" + +"I suppose Dale," said I, "declares her to be an angel of light and +purity?" + +"An angel on horseback! Whoever heard of such a thing?" + +"It's the name of a rather fiery savoury," said I. + +"In a circus!" she continued. + +"Well," said I, "the ring of a circus is not essentially one of the +circles in Dante's Inferno." + +"Of course, my dear Simon," she said, with some impatience, "if you +defend him--" + +I hastened to interrupt her. "I don't. I think he is an egregious young +idiot; but before taking action it's well to get a clear idea of the +facts. By the way, how do you know she's not painted?" + +"I've seen her--seen her with my own eyes in Dale's company--at the +Savoy. He's there supping with her every night. General Lamont told +me. I wouldn't believe it--Dale flaunting about in public with her. +The General offered to take me there after the inaugural meeting of +the International Aid Society at Grosvenor House. I went, and saw them +together. I shall never forget the look in the boy's eyes till my dying +day. She has got him body and soul. One reads of such things in the +poets, one sees it in pictures; but I've never come across it in real +life--never, never. It's dreadful, horrible, revolting. To think that a +son of mine, brought up from babyhood to calculate all his actions +with mathematical precision, should be guilty of this profligacy! It's +driving me mad, Simon; it really is. I don't know what to do. I've come +to the end of my resources. It's your turn now. The boy worships you." + +A wild appeal burned in her eyes and was refracted oddly through her +near-sighted spectacles. I had never seen her betray emotion before +during all the years of our friendship. The look and the tone of her +voice moved me. I expressed my sympathy and my readiness to do anything +in my power to snatch the infatuated boy from the claw and fang of the +syren and hale him to the forgiving feet of Maisie Ellerton. Indeed, +such a chivalrous adventure had vaguely passed through my mind during my +exalted mood at Murglebed-on-Sea. But then I knew little beyond the fact +that Dale was fluttering round an undesirable candle. Till now I had no +idea of the extent to which his wings were singed. + +"Hasn't Dale spoken to you about this creature?" his mother asked. + +"Young men of good taste keep these things from their elders, my dear +Lady Kynnersley," said I. + +"But you knew of it?" + +"In a dim sort of way." + +"Oh, Simon--" + +"The baby boys of Dale's set regard taking out the chorus to supper as +a solemn religious rite. They wouldn't think themselves respectable if +they didn't. I've done it myself--in moderation--when I was very young." + +"Men are mysteries," sighed Lady Kynnersley. + +"Please regard them as such," said I, with a laugh, "and let Dale alone. +Allow him to do whatever irrational thing he likes, save bringing the +lady here to tea. If you try to tear him away from her he'll only cling +to her the closer. If you trumpet abroad her infamy he'll proclaim her a +slandered and martyred saint. Leave him to me for the present." + +"I'll do so gladly," said Lady Kynnersley, with surprising meekness. +"But you _will_ bring him back, Simon? I've arranged for him to marry +Maisie. I can't have my plans for the future upset." + +By-law 379! Dear, excellent, but wooden-headed woman! + +"I have your promise, haven't I?" she said, her hand in mine. + +"You have," said I nobly. + +But how in the name of Astaroth I'm going to keep it I haven't the +remotest conception. + + + +CHAPTER III + +Some letters in Dale's round handwriting lay on the library table +awaiting my signature. Dale himself had gone. A lady had called for him, +said Rogers, in an electric brougham. As my chambers are on the second +floor and the staircase half-way down the arcade, Rogers's detailed +information surprised me. I asked him how he knew. + +"A chauffeur in livery, sir, came to the door and said that the brougham +was waiting for Mr. Kynnersley." + +"I don't see how the lady came in," I remarked. + +"She didn't, sir. She remained in the brougham," said Rogers. + +So Lola Brandt keeps an electric brougham. + +I lunched at the club, and turned up the article "Lola Brandt" in the +living encyclopaedia--that was my friend Renniker. The wonderful man +gave me her history from the cradle to Cadogan Gardens, where she now +resides. I must say that his details were rather vague. She rode in a +circus or had a talking horse--he was not quite sure; and concerning +her conjugal or extra-conjugal heart affairs he admitted that his +information was either unauthenticated or conjectural. At any rate, she +had not a shred of reputation. And she didn't want it, said Renniker; it +would be as much use to her as a diving suit. + +"She has young Dale Kynnersley in tow," he remarked. + +"So I gather," said I. "And now can you tell me something else? What is +the present state of political parties in Guatemala?" + +I was not in the least interested in Guatemala; but I did not care to +discuss Dale with Renniker. When he had completed his sketch of affairs +in that obscure republic, I thanked him politely and ordered coffee. + +Feeling in a gregarious, companionable humour--I have had enough +solitude at Murglebed to last me the rest of my short lifetime--I went +later in the afternoon to Sussex Gardens to call on Mrs. Ellerton. It +was her day at home, and the drawing-room was filled with chattering +people. I stayed until most of them were gone, and then Maisie dragged +me to the inner room, where a table was strewn with the wreckage of tea. + +"I haven't had any," she said, grasping the teapot and pouring a treacly +liquid into a cup. "You must have some more. Do you like it black, or +with milk?" + +She is a dainty slip of a girl, with deep grey eyes and wavy brown hair +and a sea-shell complexion. I absently swallowed the abomination she +handed me, for I was looking at her over the teacup and wondering how +an exquisite-minded gentleman like Dale could forsake her for a Lola +Brandt. It was not as if Maisie were an empty-headed, empty-natured +little girl. She is a young person of sense, education, and character. +She also adores musical comedy and a band at dinner: an excellent thing +in woman--when she is very young. + +"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. + +"Because, my dear Maisie," said I, "you are good to look upon. You are +also dropping a hairpin." + +She hastily secured the dangling thing. "I did my hair anyhow to-day," +she explained. + +Again I thought of Dale's tie and socks. The signs of a lover's +"careless desolation," described by Rosalind so minutely, can still be +detected in modern youth of both sexes. I did not pursue the question, +but alluded to autumn gaieties. She spoke of them without enthusiasm. +Miss Somebody's wedding was very dull, and Mrs. Somebody Else's dance +manned with vile and vacuous dancers. At the Opera the greatest of +German sopranos sang false. All human institutions had taken a crooked +turn, and her cat could not be persuaded to pay the commonest attention +to its kittens. Then she asked me nonchalantly: + +"Have you seen anything of Dale lately?" + +"He was working with me this morning. I've been away, you know." + +"I forgot." + +"When did you last see him?" I asked. + +"Oh, ages ago! He has not been near us for weeks. We used to be such +friends. I don't think it's very polite of him, do you?" + +"I'll order him to call forthwith," said I. + +"Oh, please don't! If he won't come of his own accord--I don't want to +see him particularly." + +She tossed her shapely head and looked at me bravely. + +"You are quite right," said I. "Dale's a selfish, ill-mannered young +cub." + +"He isn't!" she flashed. "How dare you say such things about him!" + +I smiled and took both her hands--one of them held a piece of brown +bread-and-butter. + +"My dear," said I, "model yourself on Little Bo-Peep. I don't know who +gave her the famous bit of advice, but I think it was I myself in a +pastoral incarnation. I had a woolly cloak and a crook, and she was like +a Dresden china figure--the image of you." + +Her eyes swam, but she laughed and said I was good to her. I said: + +"The man who wouldn't be good to you is an unhung villain." + +Then her mother joined us, and our little confidential talk came to an +end. It was enough, however, to convince me that my poor little Ariadne +was shedding many desperate tears in secret over her desertion. + +On my way home I looked in on my doctor. His name is Hunnington. He +grasped me by the hand and eagerly inquired whether my pain was worse. I +said it was not. He professed delight, but looked disappointed. I ought +to have replied in the affirmative. It is so easy to make others happy. + +I dined, read a novel, and went to sleep in the cheerful frame of mind +induced by the consciousness of having made some little progress on the +path of eumoiriety. + +The next morning Dale made his customary appearance. He wore a morning +coat, a dark tie, and patent-leather boots. + +"Well," said I, "have you dressed more carefully today?" + +He looked himself anxiously over and inquired whether there was anything +wrong. I assured him of the impeccability of his attire, and commented +on its splendour. + +"Are you going to take Maisie out to lunch?" + +He started and reddened beneath his dark skin. Before he could speak I +laid my hand on his shoulder. + +"I'm an old friend, Dale. You mustn't be angry with me. But don't you +think you're treating Maisie rather badly?" + +"You've no right to say so," he burst out hotly. "No one has the right +to say so. There was never a question of an engagement between Maisie +and myself." + +"Then there ought to have been," I said judicially. "No decent man plays +fast and loose with a girl and throws her over just at the moment when +he ought to be asking her to marry him." + +"I suppose my mother's been at you. That's what she wanted to see you +about yesterday. I wish to God she would mind her own business." + +"And that I would mind mine?" + +Dale did not reply. For some odd reason he is devotedly attached to me, +and respects my opinion on worldly matters. He walked to the window and +looked out. Presently, without turning round, he said: + +"I suppose she has been rubbing it in about Lola Brandt?" + +"She did mention the lady's name," said I. "So did Renniker at the club. +I suppose every one you know and many you don't are mentioning it." + +"Well, what if they are?" + +"They're creating an atmosphere about your name which is scarcely that +in which to make an entrance into public life." + +Still with his back turned, he morosely informed me in his vernacular +that he contemplated public life with feelings of indifference, and was +perfectly prepared to abandon his ambitions. I took up my parable, the +same old parable that wise seniors have preached to the deluded young +from time immemorial. I have seldom held forth so platitudinously even +in the House of Commons. I spoke as impressively as a bishop. In the +midst of my harangue he came and sat by the library table and rested +his chin on his palm, looking at me quietly out of his dark eyes. His +mildness encouraged me to further efforts. I instanced cases of other +young men of the world who had gone the way of the flesh and had ended +at the devil. + +There was Paget, of the Guards, eaten to the bone by the Syren--not even +the gold lace on his uniform left. There was Merridew, once the hope +of the party, now living in ignoble obscurity with an old and painted +mistress, whom he detested, but to whom habit and sapped will-power kept +him in thrall. There was Bullen, who blew his brains out. In a generous +glow I waxed prophetic and drew a vivid picture of Dale's moral, mental, +physical, financial, and social ruin, and finished up in a masterly +peroration. + +Then, without moving, he calmly said: + +"My dear Simon, you are talking through your hat!" + +He had allowed me to walk backwards and forwards on the hearthrug before +a blazing fire, pouring out the wealth of my wisdom, experience, and +rhetoric for ten minutes by the clock, and then coolly informed me that +I was talking through my hat. + +I wiped my forehead, sat down, and looked at him across the table in +surprise and indignation. + +"If you can point out one irrelevant or absurd remark in my homily, I'll +eat the hat through which you say I'm talking." + +"The whole thing is rot from beginning to end!" said he. "None of you +good people know anything at all about Lola Brandt. She's not the +sort of woman you think. She's quite different. You can't judge her by +ordinary standards. There's not a woman like her in the wide world!" + +I made a gesture of discouragement. The same old parable of the wise +had evoked the same old retort from the deluded young. She was quite +different from other women. She was misunderstood by the cynical and +gross-minded world. A heart of virgin purity beat beneath her mercenary +bosom. Her lurid past had been the reiterated martyrdom of a noble +nature. O Golden Age! O unutterable silliness of Boyhood! + +"For Heaven's sake, don't talk in that way!" he cried (I had been +talking in that way), and he rose and walked like a young tiger about +the room. "I can't stand it. I've gone mad about her. She has got into +my blood somehow. I think about her all day long, and I can't sleep at +night. I would give up any mortal thing on earth for her. She is the one +woman in the world for me! She's the dearest, sweetest, tenderest, most +beautiful creature God ever made!" + +"And you honour and respect her--just as you would honour and respect +Maisie?" I asked quietly. + +"Of course I do!" he flashed. "Don't I tell you that you know nothing +whatever about her? She is the dearest, sweetest----" etc., etc. And he +continued to trumpet forth the Olympian qualities of the Syren and his +own fervent adoration. I was the only being to whom he had opened his +heart, and, the floodgates being set free, the torrent burst forth in +this tempestuous and incoherent manner. I let him go on, for I thought +it did him good; but his rhapsody added very little to my information. + +The lady who had "houp-la'd" her way from Dublin to Yokohama was the +spotless queen of beauty, and Dale was frenziedly, idiotically in love +with her. That was all I could gather. When he had finished, which he +did somewhat abruptly, he threw himself into a chair and took out his +cigarette-case with shaky fingers. + +"There. I suppose I've made a damn-fool exhibition of myself," he said, +defiantly. "What have you got to say about it?" + +"Precisely," I replied, "what I said before. I'll repeat it, if you +like." + +Indeed, what more was there to say for the present about the lunatic +business? I had come to the end of my arguments. + +He reflected for a moment, then rose and came over to the fireplace. + +"Look here, Simon, you must let me go my own way in this. In matters of +politics and worldly wisdom and social affairs and honourable dealing +and all that sort of thing I would follow you blindly. You're my chief, +and a kind of elder brother as well. I would do any mortal thing for +you. You know that. But you've no right to try to guide me in this +matter. You know no more about it than my mother. You've had no +experience. You've never let yourself go about a woman in your life. +Lord of Heaven, man, you have never begun to know what it means!" + +Oh, dear me! Here was the situation as old as the return of the Prodigal +or the desertion of the trusting village maiden, or any other cliche in +the melodrama of real life. "You are making a fool of yourself," says +Mentor. "Ah," shrieks Telemachus, "but you never loved! You don't know +what love is." + +I looked at him whimsically. + +"Don't I?" + +My thoughts sped back down the years to a garden in France. Her name was +Clothilde. We met in a manner outrageous to Gallic propriety, as I used +to climb over the garden wall to the peril of my epidermis. We loved. We +were parted by stern parents--not mine--and Clothilde was packed off to +the good Sisters who had previously had care of her education. Now she +is fat and happy, and the wife of a banker and the mother of children. + +But the romance was sad and bad and mad enough while it lasted; and when +Clothilde was (figuratively) dragged from my arms I cursed and swore and +out-Heroded Herod, played Termagant, and summoned the heavens to fall +down and crush me miserable beneath their weight. And then her brother +challenged me to fight a duel, whereupon, as the most worshipped of all +She's had not received a ha'porth of harm at my hands, I called him a +silly ass and threatened to break his head if he interfered any more +in my legitimate despair. I smile at it now; but it was real at +two-and-twenty--as real, I take it, as Dale's consuming passion for the +lady of the circus. + +There was also, I remembered, a certain ---- But this had nothing to do +with Dale. Neither had the tragedy of my lost Clothilde. The memories, +however, brought a wistful touch of sympathy into my voice. + +"You soberly think, my dear old Dale," said I, "that I know nothing of +love and passion and the rest of the divine madness?" + +"I'm sure you don't," he cried, with an impatient gesture. "If you did, +you wouldn't--" + +He came to an abrupt and confused halt. + +"I wouldn't--what?" + +"Nothing. I forgot what I was going to say. Let us talk of something +else." + +"It was on the tip of your impulsive tongue," said I cheerfully, "to +refer to my attitude towards Miss Faversham." + +"I'm desperately sorry," said he, reddening. "It was unpardonable. But +how did you guess?" + +I laughed and quoted the Latin tag about the ingenuous boy of the +ingenuous visage and ingenuous modesty. + +"Because I don't feverishly search the postbag for a letter from Miss +Faversham you conclude I'm a bloodless automaton?" + +"Please don't say any more about it, Simon," he pleaded in deep +distress. + +A sudden idea struck me. I reflected, walked to the window, and, having +made up my mind, sat down again. I had a weapon to hand which I had +overlooked, and with the discovery came a weak craving for the boy's +sympathy. I believe I care more for him than for any living creature. I +decided to give him some notion of my position. + +Sooner or later he would have to learn it. + +"I would rather like to tell you something," said I, "about my +engagement--in confidence, of course. When Eleanor Faversham comes back +I propose to ask her to release me from it." + +He drew a long breath. "I'm glad. She's an awfully nice girl, but +she's no more in love with you than my mother is. But it'll be rather +difficult, won't it?" + +"I don't think so," I replied, shaking my head. "It's a question of +health. My doctors absolutely forbid it." + +A look of affectionate alarm sprang into his eyes. He broke into +sympathy. My health? Why had I not told him before? In Heaven's name, +what was the matter with me? + +"Something silly," said I. "Nothing you need worry about on my account. +Only I must go _piano_ for the rest of my days. Marriage isn't to be +thought of. There is something else I must tell you. I must resign my +seat." + +"Resign your seat? Give up Parliament? When?" + +"As soon as possible." + +He looked at me aghast, as if the world were coming to an end. + +"We had better concoct an epistle to Raggles this morning." + +"But you can't be serious?" + +"I can sometimes, my dear Dale. This is one of the afflicting +occasions." + +"You out of Parliament? You out of public life? It's inconceivable. It's +damnable. But you're just coming into your own--what Raggles said, what +I told you yesterday. But it can't be. You can hold on. I'll do all the +drudgery for you. I'll work night and day." + +And he tramped up and down the room, uttering the disconnected phrases +which an honest young soul unaccustomed to express itself emotionally +blurts out in moments of deep feeling. + +"It's no use, Dale," said I, "I've got my marching orders." + +"But why should they come just now?" + +"When the sweets of office are dangling at my lips? It's pretty simple." +I laughed. "It's one of the little ironies that please the high gods +so immensely. They have an elementary sense of humour--like that of +the funny fellow who pulls your chair from under you and shrieks with +laughter when you go wallop on to the floor. Well, I don't grudge them +their amusement. They must have a dull time settling mundane affairs, +and a little joke goes a long way with them, as it does in the House +of Commons. Fancy sitting on those green benches legislating for all +eternity, with never a recess and never even a dinner hour! Poor high +gods! Let us pity them." + +I looked at him and smiled, perhaps a little wearily. One can always +command one's eyes, but one's lips sometimes get out of control. He +could not have noticed my lips, however, for he cried: + +"By George, you're splendid! I wish I could take a knock-out blow like +that!" + +"You'll have to one of these days. It's the only way of taking it. And +now," said I, in a businesslike tone, "I've told you all this with a +purpose. At Wymington it will be a case of 'Le Roi est mort. Vive le +Roi!' The vacancy will have to be filled up at once. We'll have to find +a suitable candidate. Have you one in your mind?" + +"Not a soul." + +"I have." + +"Who?" + +"You." + +"Me?" He nearly sprang into the air with astonishment. + +"Why not?" + +"They'd never adopt me." + +"I think they would," I said. "There are men in the House as young as +you. You're well known at Wymington and at headquarters as my right-hand +man. You've done some speaking--you do it rather well; it's only +your private conversational style that's atrocious. You've got a name +familiar in public life up and down the country, thanks to your father +and mother. It's a fairly safe seat. I see no reason why they shouldn't +adopt you. Would you like it?" + +"Like it?" he cried. "Why I'd give my ears for it." + +"Then," said I, playing my winning card, "let us hear no more about Lola +Brandt." + +He gave me a swift glance, and walked up and down the room for a while +in silence. Presently he halted in front of me. + +"Look here, Simon, you're a beast, but"--he smiled frankly at the +quotation--"you're a just beast. You oughtn't to rub it in like that +about Lola until you have seen her yourself. It isn't fair." + +"You speak now in language distinctly approaching that of reason," I +remarked. "What do you want me to do?" + +"Come with me this afternoon and see her." + +My young friend had me nicely in the trap. I could not refuse. + +"Very well," said I. "But on the distinct understanding--" + +"Oh, on any old understanding you like!" he cried, and darted to the +door. + +"Where are you going?" + +"To ring her up on the telephone and tell her you're coming." + +That's the worst of the young. They have such a disconcerting manner of +clinching one's undertakings. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +My first impression of Lola Brandt in the dimness of the room was that +of a lithe panther in petticoats rising lazily from the depths of an +easy chair. A sinuous action of the arm, as she extended her hand to +welcome me, was accompanied by a curiously flexible turn of the body. +Her hand as it enveloped, rather than grasped, mine seemed boneless but +exceedingly powerful. An indoor dress of brown and gold striped Indian +silk clung to her figure, which, largely built, had an appearance of +great strength. Dark bronze hair and dark eyes, that in the soft light +of the room glowed with deep gold reflections, completed the pantherine +suggestion. She seemed to be on the verge of thirty. A most dangerous +woman, I decided--one to be shut up in a cage with thick iron bars. + +"It's charming of you to come. I've heard so much of you from Mr. +Kynnersley. Do sit down." + +Her voice was lazy and languorous and caressing like the purr of a great +cat; and there was something exotic in her accent, something seductive, +something that ought to be prohibited by the police. She sank into her +low chair by the fire, indicating one for me square with the hearthrug. +Dale, so as to leave me a fair conversational field with the lady, +established himself on the sofa some distance off, and began to talk +with a Chow dog, with whom he was obviously on terms of familiarity. +Madame Brandt make a remark about the Chow dog's virtues, to which I +politely replied. She put him through several tricks. I admired his +talent. She declared her affections to be divided between Adolphus (that +was the Chow dog's name) and an ouistiti, who was confined to bed for +the present owing to the evil qualities of the November air. For the +first time I blessed the English climate. I hate little monkeys. I also +felt a queer disappointment. A woman like that ought to have caught an +ourang-outang. + +She guessed my thought in an uncanny manner, and smiled, showing strong, +white, even teeth--the most marvellous teeth I have ever beheld--so even +as to constitute almost a deformity. + +"I'm fonder of bigger animals," she said. "I was born among them. +My father was a lion tamer, so I know all the ways of beasts. I love +bears--I once trained one to drive a cart--but"--with a sigh--"you can't +keep bears in Cadogan Gardens." + +"You may get hold of a human one now and then," said Dale. + +"I've no doubt Madame Brandt could train him to dance to whatever tune +she played," said I. + +She turned her dark golden eyes lazily, slumberously on me. + +"Why do you say that, Mr. de Gex?" + +This was disconcerting. Why had I said it? For no particular reason, +save to keep up a commonplace conversation in which I took no absorbing +interest. It was a direct challenge. Young Dale stopped playing with the +Chow dog and grinned. It behooved me to say something. I said it with a +bow and a wave of my hand: + +"Because, though your father was a lion-tamer, your mother was a woman." + +She appeared to reflect for a moment; then addressing Dale: + +"The answer doesn't amount to a ha'porth of cats'-meat, but you couldn't +have got out of it like that." + +I was again disconcerted, but I remarked that he would learn in time +when my mentorship was over and I handed him, a finished product, to +society. + +"How long will that be?" she asked. + +"I don't know. Are you anxious for his immediate perfecting?" + +Her shoulders gave what in ordinary women would have been a shrug: with +her it was a slow ripple. I vow if her neck had been bare one could have +seen it undulate beneath the skin. + +"What is perfection?" + +"Can you ask?" laughed Dale. "Behold!" And he pointed to me. + +"That's cheap," said the lady. "I've heard Auguste say cleverer things." + +"Who's Auguste?" asked Dale. + +"Auguste," said I, "is the generic name of the clown in the French +Hippodrome." + +"Oh, the Circus!" cried Dale. + +"I'll be glad if you'll teach him to call it the Hippodrome, Mr. de +Gex," she remarked, with another of her slumberous glances. + +"That will be one step nearer perfection," said I. + +The short November twilight had deepened into darkness; the fire, which +was blazing when we entered, had settled into a glow, and the room was +lit by one shaded lamp. To me the dimness was restful, but Dale, who, +with the crude instincts of youth, loves glare, began to fidget, and +presently asked whether he might turn on the electric light. Permission +was given. My hostess invited me to smoke and, to hand her a box of +cigarettes which lay on the mantelpiece, I rose, bent over her while +she lit her cigarette from my match, and resuming an upright position, +became rooted to the hearthrug. + +With the flood of illumination, disclosing everything that hitherto had +been wrapped in shadow and mystery, came a shock. + +It was a most extraordinary, perplexing room. The cheap and the costly, +the rare and the common, the exquisite and the tawdry jostled one +another on walls and floor. At one end of the Louis XVI sofa on which +Dale had been sitting lay a boating cushion covered with a Union Jack, +at the other a cushion covered with old Moorish embroidery. The chair +I had vacated I discovered to be of old Spanish oak and stamped Cordova +leather bearing traces of a coat-of-arms in gold. My hostess lounged in +a low characterless seat amid a mass of heterogeneous cushions. There +were many flowers in the room--some in Cloisonne vases, others in +gimcrack vessels such as are bought at country fairs. On the mantelpiece +and on tables were mingled precious ivories from Japan, trumpery chalets +from the Tyrol, choice bits of Sevres and Venetian glass, bottles with +ladders and little men inside them, vulgar china fowls sitting on eggs, +and a thousand restless little objects screeching in dumb agony at one +another. + +The more one looked the more confounded became confusion. Lengths of +beautifully embroidered Chinese silk formed curtains for the doors and +windows; but they were tied back with cords ending in horrible little +plush monkeys in lieu of tassels. A Second Empire gilt mirror hung over +the Louis XVI sofa, and was flanked on the one side by a villainous +German print of "The Huntsman's Return" and on the other by a dainty +water-colour. Myriads of photographs, some in frames, met the eye +everywhere--on the grand piano, on the occasional tables, on the +mantelpiece, stuck obliquely all round the Queen Anne mirror above it, +on the walls. Many of them represented animals--bears and lions and +pawing horses. Dale's photograph I noticed in a silver frame on the +piano. There was not a book in the place. But in the corner of the room +by a further window gleamed a large marble Venus of Milo, charmingly +executed, who stood regarding the welter with eyes calm and unconcerned. + +I was aroused from the momentary shock caused by the revelation of +this eccentric apartment by an unknown nauseous flavour in my mouth. +I realised it was the cigarette to which I had helped myself from the +beautifully chased silver casket I had taken from the mantelpiece. I +eyed the thing and concluded it was made of the very cheapest tobacco, +and was what the street urchin calls a "fag." I learned afterwards that +I was right. She purchased them at the rate of six for a penny, and +smoked them in enormous quantities. For politeness' sake I continued +to puff at the unclean thing until I nearly made myself sick. Then, +simulating absentmindedness, I threw it into the fire. + +Why, in the sacred name of Nicotine, does a luxurious lady like Lola +Brandt smoke such unutterable garbage? + +On the other hand, the tea which she offered us a few minutes later, and +begged us to drink without milk, was the most exquisite I have tasted +outside Russia. She informed us that she got it direct from Moscow. + +"I can't stand your black Ceylon tea," she remarked, with a grimace. + +And yet she could smoke "fags." I wondered what other contradictious +tastes she possessed. No doubt she could eat blood puddings with relish +and had a discriminating palate for claret. Truly, a perplexing lady. + +"You must find leisure in London a great change after your adventurous +career," said I, by way of polite conversation. + +"I just love it. I'm as lazy as a cat," she said, settling with her +pantherine grace among the cushions. "Do you know what has been my +ambition ever since I was a kid?" + +"Whatever of woman's ambitions you had you must have attained," said I, +with a bow. + +"Pooh!" she said. "You mean that I can have crowds of men falling +in love with me. That's rubbish." She was certainly frank. "I meant +something quite different. I wonder whether you can understand. The +world used to seem to me divided into two classes that never met--we +performing people and the public, the thousand white faces that looked +at us and went away and talked to other white faces and forgot all about +performing animals till they came next time. Now I've got what I wanted. +See? I'm one of the public." + +"And you love Philistia better than Bohemia?" I asked. + +She knitted her brows and looked at me puzzled. + +"If you want to talk to me," she said, "you must talk straight. I've had +no more education than a tinker's dog." + +She made this peculiar announcement, not defiantly, not rudely, but +appealingly, graciously. It was not a rebuke for priggishness; it was +the unpresentable statement of a fact. I apologized for a lunatic habit +of speech and paraphrased my question. + +"In a word," cried Dale, coming in on my heels with an elucidation of my +periphrasis, "what de Gex is driving at is--Do you prefer respectability +to ramping round?" + +She turned slowly to him. "My dear boy, when do you think I was not +respectable?" + +He jumped from the sofa as if the Chow dog had bitten him. + +"Good Heavens, I never meant you to take it that way!" + +She laughed, stretched up a lazy arm to him, and looked at him somewhat +quizzically in the face as he kissed her finger-tips. Although I could +have boxed the silly fellow's ears, I vow he did it in a very pretty +fashion. The young man of the day, as a general rule, has no more notion +how to kiss a woman's hand than how to take snuff or dance a pavane. +Indeed, lots of them don't know how to kiss a girl at all. + +"My dear," she said. "I was much more respectable sitting on the stage +at tea with my horse, Sultan, than supping with you at the Savoy. You +don't know the deadly respectability of most people in the profession, +and the worst of it is that while we're being utterly dull and dowdy, +the public think we're having a devil of a time. So we don't even get +the credit of our virtues. I prefer the Savoy--and this." She turned to +me. "It is nice having decent people to tea. Do you know what I should +love? I should love to have an At Home day--and receive ladies, real +ladies. And I have such a sweet place, haven't I?" + +"You have many beautiful things around you," said I truthfully. + +She sighed. "I should like more people to see them." + +"In fact," said I, "you have social ambitions, Madame Brandt?" + +She looked at me for a moment out of the corner of her eye. + +"Are you skinning me?" she asked. + +Where she had picked up this eccentric metaphor I know not. She had many +odd turns of language as yet not current among the fashionable classes. +I gravely assured her that I was not sarcastic. I commended her +praiseworthy aspirations. + +"But," said I innocently, "don't you miss the hard training, the +physical exercise, the delight of motion, the excitement, the----?"--my +vocabulary failing me, I sketched with a gesture the equestrienne's +classical encouragement to her steed. + +She looked at me uncomprehendingly. + +"The what?" she asked. + +"What are you playing at?" inquired Dale. + +"I was referring to the ring," said I. + +They both burst out laughing, to my discomfiture. + +"What do you take me for? A circus rider? Performing in a tent and +living in a caravan? You think I jump through a hoop in tights?" + +"All I can say," I murmured, by way of apology, "is that it's a +mendacious world. I'm deeply sorry." + +Why had I been misled in this shameful manner? + +Madame Brandt with lazy good nature accepted my excuses. + +"I'm what is professionally known as a _dompteuse_," she explained. "Of +course, when I was a kid I was trained as an acrobat, for my father was +poor; but when he grew rich and the owner of animals, which he did when +I was fourteen, I joined him and worked with him all over the world +until I went on my own. Do you mean to say you never heard of me?" + +"Madame Brandt," said I, "the last thing to be astonished at is human +ignorance. Do you know that 30 per cent of the French army at the +present day have never heard of the Franco-Prussian War?" + +"My dear Simon," cried Dale, "the two things don't hang together. The +Franco-Prussian War is not advertised all over France like Beecham's +Pills, whereas six years ago you couldn't move two steps in London +without seeing posters of Lola Brandt and her horse Sultan." + +"Ah, the horse!" said I. "That's how the wicked circus story got about." + +"It was the last act I ever did," said Madame Brandt. "I taught +Sultan--oh, he was a dear, beautiful thing--to count and add up and +guess articles taken from the audience. I was at the Hippodrome. Then +at the Nouveau Cirque at Paris; I was at St. Petersburg, Vienna, +Berlin--all over Europe with Sultan." + +"And where is Sultan now?" I asked. + +"He is dead. Somebody poisoned him," she replied, looking into the fire. +After a pause she continued in a low voice, singularly like the growl of +a wrathful animal, "If ever I meet that man alive it will go hard with +him." + +At that moment the door opened and the servant announced: + +"Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos!" + +Whereupon the shortest creature that ever bore so lengthy a name, a +dwarf not more than four feet high, wearing a frock coat and bright +yellow gloves, entered the room, and crossing it at a sort of trot fell +on his knees by the side of Madame Brandt's chair. + +_"Ah! Carissima, je vous vois enfin, Ach liebes Herz! Que j'ai envie de +pleurer!"_ + +Madame Brandt smiled, took the creature's head between her hands and +kissed his forehead. She also caressed his shoulders. + +"My dear Anastasius, how good it is to see you. Where have you been this +long time? Why didn't you write and let me know you were in England? +But, see, Anastasius, I have visitors. Let me introduce you." + +She spoke in French fluently, but with a frank British accent, which +grated on a fastidious ear. The dwarf rose, made two solemn bows, and +declared himself enchanted. Although his head was too large for +his body, he was neither ill-made nor repulsive. He looked about +thirty-five. A high forehead, dark, mournful eyes, and a black moustache +and imperial gave him an odd resemblance to Napoleon the Third. + +"I arrived from New York this morning, with my cats. Oh, a mad success. +I have one called Phoebus, because he drives a chariot drawn by six +rats. Phoebus Apollo was the god of the sun. I must show him to you, +Madonna. You would love him as I love you. And I also have an angora, +my beautiful Santa Bianca. And you, gentlemen"--he turned to Dale and +myself and addressed us in his peculiar jargon of French, German, +and Italian--"you must come and see my cats if I can get a London +engagement. At present I must rest. The artist needs repose sometimes. +I will sun myself in the smiles of our dear lady here, and my pupil and +assistant, Quast, can look after my cats. Meanwhile the brain of the +artist," he tapped his brow, "needs to lie fallow so that he can invent +fresh and daring combinations. Do such things interest you, messieurs?" + +"Vastly," said I. + +He pulled out of his breast pocket an enormous gilt-bound pocket-book, +bearing a gilt monogram of such size that it looked like a cartouche +on an architectural panel, and selected therefrom three cards which he +gravely distributed among us. They bore the legend: + + +PROFESSOR ANASTASIUS PAPADOPOULOS + +GOLD AND SILVER MEDALLIST + +THE CAT KING + +LE ROI DES CHATS + +DER KATZEN KONIG + +London Agents: MESSRS. CONTO & BLAG, + +172 Maiden Lane, W.C. + + +"There," said he, "I am always to be found, should you ever require my +services. I have a masterpiece in my head. I come on to the scene like +Bacchus drawn by my two cats. How are the cats to draw my heavy weight? +I'll have a noiseless clockwork arrangement that will really propel the +car. You must come and see it." + +"Delighted, I'm sure," said Dale, who stood looking down on the +Liliputian egotist with polite wonder. Lola Brandt glanced at him +apologetically. + +"You mustn't mind him, Dale. He has only two ideas in his head, his cats +and myself. He's devoted to me." + +"I don't think I shall be jealous," said Dale in a low voice. + +"Foolish boy!" she whispered. + +During the love scene, which was conducted in English, a language which +Mr. Papadopoulos evidently did not understand, the dwarf scowled at Dale +and twirled his moustache fiercely. In order to attract Madame Brandt's +attention he fetched a packet of papers from his pocket and laid them +with a flourish on the tea-table. + +"Here are the documents," said he. + +"What documents?" + +"A full inquiry into the circumstances attending the death of Madame +Brandt's horse Sultan." + +"Have you found out anything, Anastasius?" she asked, in the indulgent +tone in which one addresses an eager child. + +"Not exactly," said he. "But I have a conviction that by this means the +murderer will be brought to justice. To this I have devoted my life--in +your service." + +He put his hand on the spot of his tightly buttoned frock-coat that +covered his heart, and bowed profoundly. It was obvious that he resented +our presence and desired to wipe us out of our hostess's consideration. +I glanced ironically at Dale's disgusted face, and smiled at the +imperfect development of his sense of humour. Indeed, to the young, +humour is only a weapon of offence. It takes a philosopher to use it as +defensive armour. Dale burned to outdo Mr. Papadopoulos. I, having +no such ambition, laid my hand on his arm and went forward to take my +leave. + +"Madame Brandt," said I, "old friends have doubtless much to talk +over. I thank you for the privilege you have afforded me of making your +acquaintance." + +She rose and accompanied us to the landing outside the flat door. +After saying good-bye to Dale, who went down with his boyish tread, she +detained me for a second or two, holding my hand, and again her clasp +enveloped it like some clinging sea-plant. She looked at me very +wistfully. + +"The next time you come, Mr. de Gex, do come as a friend and not as an +enemy." + +I was startled. I thought I had conducted the interview with peculiar +suavity. + +"An enemy, dear lady?" + +"Yes. Can't I see it?" she said in her languorous, caressing voice. "And +I should love to have you for a friend. You could be such a good one. I +have so few." + +"I must argue this out with you another time," said I diplomatically. + +"That's a promise," said Lola Brandt. + +"What's a promise?" asked Dale, when I joined him in the hall. + +"That I will do myself the pleasure of calling on Madame again." + +The porter whistled for a cab. A hansom drove up. As my destination was +the Albany, and as I knew Dale was going home to Eccleston Square, I +held out my hand. + +"Good-bye, Dale. I'll see you to-morrow." + +"But aren't you going to tell me what you think of her?" he cried in +great dismay. + +The pavement was muddy, the evening dark, and a gusty wind blew the +drizzle into our faces. It is only the preposterously young who expect +a man to rhapsodise over somebody else's inamorata at such a moment. I +turned up the fur collar of my coat. + +"She is good-looking," said I. + +"Any idiot can see that!" he burst out impatiently. "I want to know what +opinion you formed of her." + +I reflected. If I could have labelled her as the Scarlet Woman, the +Martyred Saint, the Jolly Bohemian, or the Bold Adventuress, my task +would have been easy. But I had an uncomfortable feeling that Lola +Brandt was not to be classified in so simple a fashion. I took refuge in +a negative. + +"She would hardly be a success," said I, "in serious political circles." + +With that I made my escape. + + + +CHAPTER V + +I wish I had not called on Lola Brandt. She disturbs me to the point +of nightmare. In a fit of dream paralysis last night I fancied myself +stalked by a panther, which in the act of springing turned into Lola +Brandt. What she would have done I know not, for I awoke; but I have +a haunting sensation that she was about to devour me. Now, a woman who +would devour a sleeping Member of Parliament is not a fit consort for a +youth about to enter on a political career. + +The woman worries me. I find myself speculating on her character while +I ought to be minding my affairs; and this I do on her own account, +without any reference to my undertaking to rescue Dale from her +clutches. Her obvious attributes are lazy good nature and swift +intuition, which are as contrary as her tastes in tobacco and tea; but +beyond the obvious lurks a mysterious animal power which repels and +attracts. Were not her expressions rather melancholy than sensuous, +rather benevolent than cruel, one might take her as a model for Queen +Berenice or the estimable lady monarchs who yielded themselves adorably +to a gentleman's kisses in the evening and saw to it that his head +was nicely chopped off in the morning. I can quite understand Dale's +infatuation. She may be as worthless as you please, but she is by no +means the vulgar syren I was led to expect. I wish she were. My task +would be easier. Why hasn't he fallen in love with one of the chorus +whom his congeners take out to supper? He is an aggravating fellow. + +I have declined to discuss her merits or demerits with him. I could +scarcely do that with dignity, said I; a remark which seemed to impress +him with a sense of my honesty. I asked what were his intentions +regarding her. I discovered that they were still indefinite. In his +exalted moments he talked of marriage. + +"But what has become of her husband?" I inquired, drawing a bow at a +venture. + +"I suppose he's dead," said Dale. + +"But suppose he isn't?" + +He informed me in his young magnificence that Lola and himself would be +above foolish moral conventions. + +"Indeed?" said I. + +"Don't pretend to be a Puritan," said he. + +"I don't pretend to like the idea, anyhow," I remarked. + +He shrugged his shoulders. It was not the time for a lecture on +morality. + +"How do you know that the lady returns your passion?" I asked, watching +him narrowly. + +He grew red. "Is that a fair question?" + +"Yes," said I. "You invited me to call on her and judge the affair for +myself. I'm doing it. How far have things gone up to now?" + +He flashed round on me. Did I mean to insinuate that there was anything +wrong? There wasn't. How could I dream of such a thing? He was vastly +indignant. + +"Well, my dear boy," said I, "you've just this minute been scoffing at +foolish moral conventions. If you want to know my opinion," I continued, +after a pause, "it is this--she doesn't care a scrap for you." + +Of course I was talking nonsense. + +I did not condescend to argue. Neither did I dwell upon the fact that +her affection had not reached the point of informing him whether she +had a husband, and if so, whether he was alive or dead. This gives me an +idea. Suppose I can prove to him beyond a shadow of doubt that the lady, +although flattered by the devotion of a handsome young fellow of birth +and breeding, does not, as I remarked, care a scrap for him. Suppose I +exhibit her to him in the arms, figuratively speaking, of her husband +(providing one is lurking in some back-alley of the world), Mr. +Anastasius Papadopoulos, a curate, or a champion wrestler. He would do +desperate things for a month or two; but then he would wake up sane +one fine morning and seek out Maisie Ellerton in a salutary state of +penitence. I wish I knew a curate who combined a passion for bears and a +yearning for ladylike tea-parties. I would take him forthwith to Cadogan +Gardens. Lola Brandt and himself would have tastes in common and would +fall in love with each other on the spot. + +Of course there is the other time-honoured plan which I have not yet +tried--to arm myself with diplomacy, call on Madame Brandt, and, working +on her feelings, persuade her in the name of the boy's mother and +sweetheart to make a noble sacrifice in the good, old-fashioned way. But +this seems such an unhumourous proceeding. If I am to achieve eumoiriety +I may as well do it with some distinction. + + + +"Who doth Time gallop withal?" asks Orlando. + +"With a thief to the gallows," says Rosalind. It is true. The days +have an uncanny way of racing by. I see my little allotted span of life +shrinking visibly, like the _peau de chagrin_. I must bestir myself, or +my last day will come before I have accomplished anything. + + + +When I jotted down the above not very original memorandum I had passed a +perfectly uneumoirous week among my friends and social acquaintances. +I had stood godfather to my sister Agatha's fifth child, taking upon +myself obligations which I shall never be able to perform; I had dined +amusingly at my sister Jane's; I had shot pheasants at Farfax +Glenn's place in Hampshire; and I had paid a long-promised charming +country-house visit to old Lady Blackadder. + +When I came back to town, however, I consulted my calendar with some +anxiety, and set out to clear my path. + +I have now practically withdrawn from political life. Letters have +passed; complimentary and sympathetic gentlemen have interviewed me +and tried to weaken my decision. The great Raggles has even called, +and dangled the seals of office before my eyes. I said they were very +pretty. He thought he had tempted me. + +"Hang on as long as you can, for the sake of the Party." + +I spoke playfully of the Party (a man in my position, with one eye on +Time and the other on Eternity, develops an acute sense of values) and +Raggles held up horrified hands. To Raggles the Party is the Alpha and +Omega of things human and divine. It is the guiding principle of the +Cosmos. I could have spoken disrespectfully of the British Empire, of +which he has a confused notion; I could have dismissed the Trinity, on +which his ideas are vaguer, with an airy jest; in the expression of my +views concerning the Creator, whom he believes to be under the Party's +protection, I could have out-Pained Tom Paine, out-Taxiled Leo Taxil, +and he would not have winced. But to blaspheme against the Party was the +sin for which there was no redemption. + +"I always thought you a serious politician!" he gasped. + +"Good God!" I cried. "In my public utterances have I been as dull as +that? Ill-health or no, it is time for me to quit the stage." + +He laughed politely, because he conjectured I was speaking +humourously--he is astute in some things--and begged me to explain. + +I replied that I did not regard mustard poultices as panaceas, the +_vox populi_ as the _Vox Dei_, or the policy of the other side as the +machinations of the Devil; that politics was all a game of guess-work +and muddle and compromise at the best; that, at the worst, as during +a General Election, it was as ignoble a pastime as the wit of man had +devised. To take it seriously would be the course of a fanatic, a man +devoid of the sense of proportion. Were such a man, I asked, fitted to +govern the country? + +He did not stop to argue, but went away leaving me the conviction that +he thanked his stars on the Government's providential escape from so +maniacal a minister. I hope I did not treat him with any discourtesy; +but, oh! it was good to speak the truth after all the dismal lies I have +been forced to tell at the bidding of Raggle's Party. Now that I am no +longer bound by the rules of the game, it is good to feel a free, honest +man. + +Never again shall I stretch forth my arms and thunder invectives against +well-meaning people with whom in my heart I secretly sympathise. +Never again shall I plead passionately for principles which a horrible +instinct tells me are fundamentally futile. Never again shall I attempt +to make mountains out of mole-hills or bricks without straw or sunbeams +out of cucumbers. + +I shall conduct no more inquiries into pauper lunacy, thank Heaven! And +as for the public engagements which Dale Kynnersley made for me during +my Thebaid existence on Murglebed-on-Sea, the deuce can take them all--I +am free. + +I only await the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds, for which quaint +post under the Crown I applied, to cease to be a Member of Parliament. +And yet, in spite of all my fine and superior talk, I am glad I am +giving up in the recess. I should not like to be out of my seat were the +House in session. + +I should hate to think of all the fascinating excitement over nothing +going on in the lobbies without me, while I am still hale and hearty. +When Parliament meets in February I shall either be comfortably dead or +so uncomfortably alive that I shall not care. + +_Ce que c'est que de nous!_ I wonder how far Simon de Gex and I are +deceiving each other? + + + +There is no deception about my old friend Latimer, who called on me a +day or two ago. He is on the Stock Exchange, and, muddle-headed creature +that he is, has been "bearing" the wrong things. They have gone up +sky-high. Settling-day is drawing near, and how to pay for the shares he +is bound to deliver he has not the faintest notion. + +He stamped up and down the room, called down curses on the prying fools +who came across the unexpected streak of copper in the failing mine, +drew heart-rending pictures of his wife and family singing hymns in the +street, and asked me for a drink of prussic acid. I rang the bell and +ordered Rogers to give him a brandy and soda. + +"Now," said I, "talk sense. How much can you raise?" + +He went into figures and showed me that, although he stretched his +credit to the utmost, there were still ten thousand pounds to be +provided. + +"It's utter smash and ruin," he groaned. "And all my accursed folly. I +thought I was going to make a fortune. But I'm done for now." Latimer is +usually a pink, prosperous-looking man. Now he was white and flabby, +a piteous spectacle. "You are executor under my will," he continued. +"Heaven knows I've nothing to leave. But you'll see things straight for +me, if anything happens? You will look after Lucy and the kids, won't +you?" + +I was on the point of undertaking to do so, in the event of the +continuance of his craving for prussic acid, when I reflected upon my +own approaching bow and farewell to the world where Lucy and the kids +would still be wandering. I am always being brought up against this +final fireproof curtain. Suddenly a thought came which caused me to +exult exceedingly. + +"Ten thousand pounds, my dear Latimer," said I, "would save you from +being hammered on the Stock Exchange and from seeking a suicide's grave. +It would also enable you to maintain Lucy and the kids in your luxurious +house at Hampstead, and to take them as usual to Dieppe next summer. Am +I not right?" + +He begged me not to make a jest of his miseries. It was like asking +a starving beggar whether a dinner at the Carlton wouldn't set him up +again. + +"Would ten thousand set you up?" I persisted. + +"Yes. But I might as well try to raise ten million." + +"Not so," I cried, slapping him on the shoulder. "I myself will lend you +the money." + +He leaped to his feet and stared at me wildly in the face. He could not +have been more electrified if he had seen me suddenly adorned with wings +and shining raiment. I experienced a thrill of eumoiriety more exquisite +than I had dreamed of imagining. + +"You?" + +"Why not?" + +"You don't understand. I can give you no security whatsoever." + +"I don't want security and I don't want interest," I exclaimed, feeling +more magnanimous than I had a right to be, seeing that the interest +would be of no use to me on the other side of the Styx. "Pay me back +when and how you like. Come round with me to my bankers and I'll settle +the matter at once." + +He put out his hands; I thought he was about to fall at my feet; he +laughed in a silly way and, groping after brandy and soda, poured half +the contents of the brandy decanter on to the tray. I took him in a cab, +a stupefied man, to the bank, and when he left me at the door with my +draft in his pocket, there were tears in his eyes. He wrung my hand and +murmured something incoherent about Lucy. + +"For Heaven's sake, don't tell her anything about it," I entreated. "I +love Lucy dearly, as you know; but I don't want to have her weeping on +my door-mat." + +I walked back to my rooms with a springing step. So happy was I that I +should have liked to dance down Piccadilly. If the Faculty had not made +their pronouncement, I could have no more turned poor Latimer's earth +from hell to heaven than I could have changed St. Paul's Cathedral into +a bumblebee. The mere possibility of lending him the money would not +have occurred to me. + +A man of modest fortune does not go about playing Monte Cristo. He gives +away a few guineas in charity; but he keeps the bulk of his fortune to +himself. The death sentence, I vow, has compensations. It enables a man +to play Monte Cristo or any other avatar of Providence with impunity, +and to-day I have discovered it to be the most fascinating game in the +world. + +When Latimer recovers his equilibrium and regards the transaction in the +dry light of reason, he will diagnose a sure symptom of megalomania, and +will pity me in his heart for a poor devil. + + + +I have seen Eleanor Faversham, and she has released me from my +engagement with such grace, dignity, and sweet womanliness that I wonder +how I could have railed at her thousand virtues. + +"It's honourable of you to give me this opportunity of breaking it off, +Simon," she said, "but I care enough for you to be willing to take my +chance of illness." + +"You do care for me?" I asked. + +She raised astonished eyes. "If I didn't, do you suppose I should have +engaged myself to you? If I married you I should swear to cherish you in +sickness and in health. Why won't you let me?" + +I was in a difficulty. To say that I was in ill-health and about to +resign my seat in Parliament and a slave to doctor's orders was one +thing; it was another to tell her brutally that I had received my death +warrant. She would have taken it much more to heart than I do. + +The announcement would have been a shock. It would have kept the poor +girl awake of nights. She would have been for ever seeing the hand of +Death at my throat. Every time we met she would have noted on my face, +in my gait, infallible signs of my approaching end. I had not the right +to inflict such intolerable pain on one so near and dear to me. + +Besides, I am vain enough to want to walk forth somewhat gallantly into +eternity; and while I yet live I particularly desire that folks should +not regard me as half-dead. I defy you to treat a man who is only going +to live twenty weeks in the same pleasant fashion as you would a man who +has the run of life before him. + +There is always an instinctive shrinking from decay. I should think that +corpses must feel their position acutely. + +It was entirely for Eleanor's sake that I refrained from taking her into +my confidence. To her question I replied that I had not the right to +tie her for life to a helpless valetudinarian. "Besides," said I, "as +my health grows worse my jokes will deteriorate, until I am reduced to +grinning through a horse-collar at the doctor. And you couldn't stand +that, could you?" + +She upbraided me gently for treating everything as a jest. + +"It isn't that you want to get rid of me, Simon?" she asked tearfully, +but with an attempt at a smile. + +I took both hands and looked into her eyes--they are brave, truthful +eyes--and through my heart shot a great pain. Till that moment I had not +realised what I was giving up. The pleasant paths of the world--I could +leave them behind with a shrug. Political ambition, power, I could +justly estimate their value and could let them pass into other hands +without regret. But here was the true, staunch woman, great of heart and +wise, a helper and a comrade, and, if I chose to throw off the jester +and become the lover in real earnest and sweep my hand across the +hidden chords, all that a woman can become towards the man she loves. I +realised this. + +I realised that if she did not love me passionately now it was only +because I, in my foolishness, had willed it otherwise. For the first +time I longed to have her as my own; for the first time I rebelled. +I looked at her hungeringly until her cheeks grew red and her eyelids +fluttered. I had a wild impulse to throw my arms around her, and kiss +her as I had never kissed her before and bid her forget all that I had +said that day. Her faltering eyes told me that they read my longing. I +was about to yield when the little devil of a pain inside made itself +sharply felt and my madness went from me. I fetched a thing half-way +between a sigh and a groan, and dropped her hands. + +"Need I answer your question?" I asked. + +She turned her head aside and whispered "No." + +Presently she said, "I am glad I came back from Sicily. I shouldn't have +liked you to write this to me. I shouldn't have understood." + +"Do you now?" + +"I think so." She looked at me frankly. "Until just now I was never +quite certain whether you really cared for me." + +"I never cared for you so much as I do now, when I have to lose you." + +"And you must lose me?" + +"A man in my condition would be a scoundrel if he married a woman." + +"Then it is very, very serious--your illness?" + +"Yes," said I, "very serious. I must give you your freedom whether you +want it or not." + +She passed one hand over the other on her knee, looking at the +engagement ring. Then she took it off and presented it to me, lying in +the palm of her right hand. + +"Do what you like with it," she said very softly. + +I took the ring and slipped it on one of the right-hand fingers. + +"It would comfort me to think that you are wearing it," said I. + +Then her mother came into the room and Eleanor went out. I am thankful +to say that Mrs. Faversham who is a woman only guided by sentiment when +it leads to a worldly advantage, applauded the step I had taken. As a +sprightly Member of Parliament, with an assured political and social +position, I had been a most desirable son-in-law. As an obscure invalid, +coughing and spitting from a bath-chair at Bournemouth (she took it for +granted that I was in the last stage of consumption), I did not take the +lady's fancy. + +"My dear Simon," replied my lost mother-in-law, "you have behaved +irreproachably. Eleanor will feel it for some time no doubt; but she is +young and will soon get over it. I'll send her to the Drascombe-Prynnes +in Paris. And as for yourself, your terrible misfortune will be as much +as you can bear. You mustn't increase it by any worries on her behalf. +In that way I'll do my utmost to help you." + +"You are kindness itself, Mrs. Faversham," said I. + +I bowed over the delighted lady's hand and went away, deeply moved by +her charity and maternal devotion. + +But perhaps in her hardness lies truth. I have never touched Eleanor's +heart. No romance had preceded or accompanied our engagement. The +deepest, truest incident in it has been our parting. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +Dale's occupation, like Othello's, being gone, as far as I am concerned, +Lady Kynnersley has despatched him to Berlin, on her own business, +connected, I think, with the International Aid Society. He is to stay +there for a fortnight. + +How he proposes to bear the separation from the object of his flame I +have not inquired; but if forcible objurgations in the vulgar tongue +have any inner significance, I gather that Lady Kynnersley has not +employed an enthusiastic agent. + +Being thus free to pursue my eumoirous schemes without his intervention, +for you cannot talk to a lady for her soul's good when her adorer is +gaping at you, I have taken the opportunity to see something of Lola +Brandt. + +I find I have seen a good deal of her; and it seems not improbable that +I shall see considerably more. Deuce take the woman! + +On the first afternoon of Dale's absence I paid her my promised visit. +It was a dull day, and the room, lit chiefly by the firelight, +happily did not reveal its nerve-racking tastelessness. Lola Brandt, +supple-limbed and lazy-voiced, talked to me from the cushioned depths of +her chair. + +We lightly touched on Dale's trip to Berlin. She would miss him +terribly. It was so kind of me to come and cheer her lonely hour. +Politeness forbade my saying that I had come to do nothing of the sort. +To my vague expression of courtesy she responded by asking me with a +laugh how I liked Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos. + +I replied that I considered it urbane on his part to invite me to see +his cats perform. + +"If you were to hurt one of his cats he'd murder you," she informed me. +"He always carries a long, sharp knife concealed somewhere about him on +purpose." + +"What a fierce little gentleman," I remarked. + +"He looks on me as one of his cats, too," she said with a low laugh, +"and considers himself my protector. Once in Buda-Pesth he and I were +driving about. I was doing some shopping. As I was getting into the cab +a man insulted me, on account, I suppose, of my German name. Anastasius +sprang at him like a wild beast, and I had to drag him off bodily and +lift him back into the cab. I'm pretty strong, you know. It must have +been a funny sight." She turned to me quickly. "Do you think it wrong of +me to laugh?" + +"Why shouldn't you laugh at the absurd?" + +"Because in devotion like that there seems to be something solemn +and frightening. If I told him to kill his cats, he would do it. If I +ordered him to commit Hari-Kari on the hearthrug, he would whip out his +knife and obey me. When you have a human soul at your mercy like that, +it's a kind of sacrilege to laugh at it. It makes you feel--oh, I can't +express myself. Look, it doesn't make tears come into your eyes exactly, +it makes them come into your heart." + +We continued the subject, divagating as we went, and had a nice little +sentimental conversation. There are depths of human feeling I should +never have suspected in this lazy panther of a woman, and although she +openly avows having no more education than a tinker's dog, she can talk +with considerable force and vividness of expression. + +Indeed, when one comes to think of it, a tinker's dog has a fine +education if he be naturally a shrewd animal and takes advantage of his +opportunities; and a fine education, too, of its kind was that of +the vagabond Lola, who on her way from Dublin to Yokohama had more +profitably employed her time than Lady Kynnersley supposed. She had +seen much of the civilised places of the earth in her wanderings from +engagement to engagement, and had been an acute observer of men and +things. + +We exchanged travel pictures and reminiscences. I found myself floating +with her through moonlit Venice, while she chanted with startling +exactness the cry of the gondoliers. To my confusion be it spoken, I +forgot all about Dale Kynnersley and my mission. The lazy voice and +rich personality fascinated me. When I rose to go I found I had spent a +couple of hours in her company. She took me round the room and showed me +some of her treasures. + +"This is very old. I think it is fifteenth century," she said, picking +up an Italian ivory. + +It was. I expressed my admiration. Then maliciously I pointed to a +horrible little Tyrolean chalet and said: + +"That, too, is very pretty." + +"It isn't. And you know it." + +She is a most disconcerting creature. I accepted the rebuke meekly. What +else could I do? + +"Why, then, do you have it here?" + +"It's a present from Anastasius," she said. "Every time he comes to +see me he brings what he calls an _'offrande'_. All these things"--she +indicated, with a comprehensive sweep of the arm, the Union Jack +cushion, the little men mounting ladders inside bottles, the hen sitting +on her nest, and the other trumpery gimcracks--"all these things are +presents from Anastasius. It would hurt him not to see them here when he +calls." + +"You might have a separate cabinet," I suggested. + +"A chamber of horrors?" she laughed. "No. It gives him more pleasure to +see them as they are--and a poor little freak doesn't get much out of +life." + +She sighed, and picking up "A Present from Margate" kind of mug, +fingered it very tenderly. + +I went away feeling angry. Was the woman bewitching me? And I felt +angrier still when I met Lady Kynnersley at dinner that evening. Luckily +I had only a few words with her. Had I done anything yet with regard to +Dale and the unmentionable woman? If I had told her that I had spent +a most agreeable afternoon with the enchantress, she would not have +enjoyed her evening. Like General Trochu of the Siege of Paris fame, I +said in my most mysterious manner, "I have my plan," and sent her into +dinner comforted. + +But I had no plan. My next interview with Madame Brandt brought me no +further. We have established telephonic communications. Through the +medium of this diabolical engine of loquacity and indiscretion, I was +prevailed on to accompany her to a rehearsal of Anastasius's cats. + +Rogers, with a face as imperturbable as if he was announcing the visit +of an archbishop, informed me at the appointed hour that Madame Brandt's +brougham was at the door. I went down and found the brougham open, as +the day was fine, and Lola Brandt, smiling under a gigantic hat with an +amazing black feather, and looking as handsome as you please. + +We were blocked for a few minutes at the mouth of the courtyard, and +I had the pleasure of all Piccadilly that passed staring at us in +admiration. Lola Brandt liked it; but I didn't, especially when I +recognised one of the starers as the eldest Drascombe-Prynne boy whose +people in Paris are receiving Eleanor Faversham under their protection. +A nice reputation I shall be acquiring. My companion was in gay mood. +Now, as it is no part of dealing unto oneself a happy life and portion +to damp a fellow creature's spirits, I responded with commendable +gaiety. + +I own that the drive to Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos's cattery in +Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, was distinctly enjoyable. I forgot all +about the little pain inside and the Fury with the abhorred shears, and +talked a vast amount of nonsense which the lady was pleased to regard +as wit, for she laughed wholeheartedly, showing her strong white, even +teeth. But why was I going? + +Was it because she had requested me through the telephone to give +unimagined happiness to a poor little freak who would be as proud as +Punch to exhibit his cats to an English Member of Parliament? Was it +in order to further my designs--Machiavellian towards the lady, but +eumoirous towards Dale? Or was it simply for my own good pleasure? + +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos, resplendently raimented, with the +shiniest of silk hats and a flower in the buttonhole of his frock-coat, +received us at the door of a small house, the first-floor windows of +which announced the tenancy of a maker of gymnastic appliances; and +having kissed Madame Brandt's hand with awful solemnity and bowed deeply +to me, he preceded us down the passage, out into the yard, and into a +ramshackle studio at the end, where his cats had their being. + +There were fourteen of them, curled up in large cages standing against +the walls. The place was lit by a skylight and warmed by a stove. +The floor, like a stage, was fitted up with miniature acrobatic +paraphernalia and properties. There were little five-barred gates, and +trapezes, and tight-ropes, and spring-boards, and a trestle-table, all +the metal work gleaming like silver. A heavy, uncouth German lad, whom +the professor introduced as his pupil and assistant, Quast, was in +attendance. Mr. Papadopoulos polyglotically acknowledged the honour I +had conferred upon him. He is very like the late Emperor of the French; +but his forehead is bulgier. + +With a theatrical gesture and the remark that I should see, he opened +some cages and released half a dozen cats--a Persian, a white Angora, +and four commonplace tabbies, who all sprang on to the table with +military precision. Madame Brand began to caress them. I, wishing to +show interest in the troupe, prepared to do the same; but the dwarf +scurried up with a screech from the other end of the room. + +_"Ne touchez pas--ne touchez pas!"_ + +I refrained, somewhat wonderingly, from touching. Madame Brandt +explained. + +"He thinks you would spoil the magnetic influence. It is a superstition +of his." + +"But you are touching." + +"He believes I have his magnetism--whatever that may be," she said, with +a smile. "Would you like to see an experiment? Anastasius!" + +"Carissima." + +"Is that the untamed Persian you were telling me of?" she asked, +pointing to a cage from which a ferocious gigantic animal more like a +woolly tiger than a tom-cat looked out with expressionless yellow eyes. +"Will you let Mr. de Gex try to make friends with it?" + +"Your will is law, meine Konigin," replied Professor Papadopoulos, +bowing low. "But Hephaestus is as fierce as the flames of hell." + +"See what he'll do," laughed Lola Brandt. + +I approached the cage with an ingratiating, "Puss, puss!" and a hideous +growl welcomed me. I ventured my hand towards the bars. The beast +bristled in demoniac wrath, spat with malignant venom, and shot out its +claws. If I had touched it my hand would have been torn to shreds. I +have never seen a more malevolent, fierce, spiteful, ill-conditioned +brute in my life. My feelings being somewhat hurt, and my nerves a bit +shaken, I retreated hastily. + +"Now look," said Lola Brandt. + +With absolute fearlessness she went up to the cage, opened it, took +the unresisting thing out by the scruff of its neck, held it up like a +door-mat, and put it on her shoulder, where it forthwith began to purr +like any harmless necessary cat and rub its head against her cheek. She +put it on the floor; it arched its back and circling sideways rubbed +itself against her skirts. + +She sat down, and taking the brute by its forepaws made it stand on its +hind legs. She pulled it on to her lap and it curled round lazily. Then +she hoisted it on to her shoulder again, and, rising, crossed the room +and bowed to the level of the cage, when the beast leaped in purring +thunderously in high good humour. Mr. Papadopoulos sang out in +breathless delight: + +"If I am the King of Cats, you, Carissima, are the Queen. Nay, more, you +are the Goddess!" + +Lola Brandt laughed. I did not. It was uncanny. It seemed as if some +mysterious freemasonic affinity existed between her and the evil beast. +During her drive hither she had entered my own atmosphere. She had +been the handsome, unconventional woman of the world. Now she seemed as +remote from me as the witches in "Macbeth." + +If I had seen her dashing Paris hat rise up into a point and her +umbrella turn into a broomstick, and herself into one of the buxom +carlines of "Tam O'Shanter," I should not have been surprised. The feats +of the mild pussies which the dwarf began forthwith to exhibit provoked +in me but a polite counterfeit of enthusiasm. Lola Brandt had discounted +my interest. Even his performance with the ferocious Persian lacked the +diabolical certainty of Lola's handling. He locked all the other cats up +and enticed it out of the cage with a piece of fish. He guided it with +a small whip, as it jumped over gates and through blazing hoops, and he +stood tense and concentrated, like a lion-tamer. + +The act over, the cat turned and snarled and only jumped into its cage +after a smart flick of the whip. The dwarf did not touch it once with +his hands. I applauded, however, and complimented him. He laid his hand +on his heart and bent forward in humility. + +"Ah, monsieur, I am but a neophyte where Madame is an expert. I know the +superficial nature of cats. Now and then without vainglory I can say I +know their hearts; but Madame penetrates to and holds commune with their +souls. And a cat's soul, monsieur, is a wonderful thing. Once it was +divine--in ancient Egypt. Doubtless monsieur has heard of Pasht? Holy +men spent their lives in approaching the cat-soul. Madame was born to +the privilege. Pasht watches over her." + +"Pasht," I said politely in French, in reply to this clotted nonsense, +"was a great divinity. And for yourself, who knows but what you may have +been in a previous incarnation the keeper of the Sacred Cats in some +Egyptian temple." + +"I was," he said, with staggering earnestness. "At Memphis." + +"One of these days," I returned, with equal solemnity, "I hope for the +privilege of hearing some of your reminiscences. They would no doubt be +interesting." + +On the way back Lola thanked me for pretending to take the little man +seriously, and not laughing at him. + +"If I hadn't," said I, "he would have stuck his knife into me." + +She shook her head. "You did it naturally. I was watching you. It is +because you are a generous-hearted gentleman." + +Said I: "If you talk like that I'll get out and walk." + +And, indeed, what right had she to characterise the moral condition +of my heart? I asked her. She laughed her low, lazy laugh, but made no +reply. Presently she said: + +"Why didn't you like my making friends with the cat?" + +"How do you know I didn't like it?" I asked. + +"I felt it." + +"You mustn't feel things like that," I remarked. "It isn't good for +you." + +She insisted on my telling her. I explained as well as I could. She +touched the sleeve of my coat with her gloved hand. + +"I'm glad, because it shows you take an interest in me. And I wanted +to let you see that I could do something besides loll about in +a drawing-room and smoke cigarettes. It's all I can do. But it's +something." She said it with the humility of the Jongleur de Notre Dame +in Anatole Frances's story. + +In Eaton Square, where I had a luncheon engagement, she dropped me, and +drove off smiling, evidently well pleased with herself. My hostess was +standing by the window when I was shown into the drawing-room. I noted +the faintest possible little malicious twinkle in her eye. + +During the afternoon I had a telephonic message from my doctor, who +asked me why I had neglected him for a fortnight and urged me to go to +Harley Street at once. To humour him I went the next morning. Hunnington +is a bluff, hearty fellow who feeds himself into pink floridity so as to +give confidence to his patients. In answer to his renewed inquiry as to +my neglect, I remarked that a man condemned to be hanged doesn't seek +interviews with the judge in order to learn how the rope is getting on. +I conveyed to him politely, although he is an old friend, that I desired +to forget his well-fed existence. In his chatty way he requested me not +to be an ass, and proceeded to put to me the usual silly questions. + +Remembering the result of my last visit, I made him happy by answering +them gloomily; whereupon he seized his opportunity and ordered me out +of England for the winter. I must go to a warm climate--Egypt, South +Africa, Madeira--I could take my choice. I flatly refused to obey. I had +my duties in London. He was so unsympathetic as to damn my duties. My +duty was to live as long as possible, and my wintering in London would +probably curtail my short life by two months. Then I turned on him +and explained the charitable disingenuousness of my replies to +his questions. He refused to believe me, and we parted with mutual +recriminations. I sent him next day, however, a brace of pheasants, a +present from Farfax Glenn. After all, he is one of God's creatures. + +The next time I called on Lola Brandt I went with the fixed +determination to make some progress in my mission. I vowed that I would +not be seduced by trumpery conversation about Yokohama or allow my mind +to be distracted by absurd adventures among cats. I would clothe myself +in the armour of eumoiriety, and, with the sword of duty in my hand, +would go forth to battle with the enchantress. All said and done, what +was she but a bold-faced, strapping woman without an idea in her head +save the enslavement of an impressionable boy several years her junior? +It was preposterous that I, Simon de Gex, who had beguiled and fooled an +electorate of thirty thousand hard-headed men into choosing me for their +representative in Parliament, should not be a match for Lola Brandt. +As for her complicated feminine personality, her intuitiveness, her +magnetism, her fascination, all the qualities in fact which my poetical +fancy had assigned to her, they had no existence in reality. She was +the most commonplace person I had ever encountered, and I had been but a +sentimental lunatic. + +In this truly admirable frame of mind I entered her drawing-room. She +threw down the penny novel she was reading, and with a little cry of joy +sprang forward to greet me. + +"I'm so glad you've come. I was getting the blind hump!" + +Did I not say she was commonplace? I hate this synonym for boredom. +It may be elegant in the mouth of a duchess and pathetic in that of an +oyster-wench, but it falls vulgarly from intermediate lips. + +"What has given it to you?" I asked. + +"My poor little ouistiti is dead. It is this abominable climate." + +I murmured condolences. I could not exhibit unreasonable grief at the +demise of a sick monkey which I had never seen. + +"I'm also out of books," she said, after having paid her tribute to the +memory of the departed. "I have been forced to ask the servants to lend +me something to read. Have you ever tried this sort of thing? You ought +to. It tells you what goes on in high society." + +I was sure it didn't. Not a duchess in its pages talked about having a +blind hump. I said gravely: + +"I will ask you to lend it to me. Since Dale has been away I've had no +one to make out my library list." + +"Do turn Adolphus out of that chair and sit down," she said, sinking +into her accustomed seat. Adolphus was the Chow dog before mentioned, +an accomplished animal who could mount guard with the poker and stand on +his head, and had been pleased to favour me with his friendship. + +"I miss Dale greatly," said I. + +"I suppose you do. You are very fond of him?" + +"Very," said I. "By the by, how did you first come across Dale?" + +She threw me a swift glance and smiled. + +"Oh, in the most respectable way. I was dining at the Carlton with Sir +Joshua Oldfield, the famous surgeon, you know. He performed a silly +little operation on me last year, and since then we've been great +friends. Dale and some sort of baby boy were dining there, too, and +afterwards, in the lounge, Sir Joshua introduced them to me. Dale asked +me if he could call. I said 'Yes.' Perhaps I was wrong. Anyhow, _voila_! +Do you know Sir Joshua?" + +"I sat next to him once at a public dinner. He's a friend of the +Kynnersleys. A genial old soul." + +"He's a dear!" said Lola. + +"Do you know many of Dale's friends?" I asked. + +"Hardly any," she replied. "It's rather lonesome." Then she broke into a +laugh. + +"I was so terrified at meeting you the first time. Dale can talk of no +one else. He makes a kind of god of you. I felt I was going to hate you +like the devil. I expected quite a different person." + +The diplomatist listens to much and says little. + +"Indeed," I remarked. + +She nodded. "I thought you would be a big beefy man with a red face, you +know. He gave me the idea somehow by calling you a 'splendid chap.' You +see, I couldn't think of a 'splendid chap' with a white face and a waxed +moustache and your way of talking." + +"I am sorry," said I, "not to come up to your idea of the heroic." + +"But you do!" she cried, with one of her supple twists of the body. "It +was I that was stupid. And I don't hate you at all. You can see that I +don't. I didn't even hate you when you came as an enemy." + +"Ah!" said I. "What made you think that? We agreed to argue it out, if +you remember." + +She drew out of a case beside her one of her unspeakable cigarettes. "Do +you suppose," she said, lighting it, and pausing to inhale the first +two or three puffs of smoke, "do you suppose that a woman who has lived +among wild beasts hasn't got instinct?" + +I drew my chair nearer to the fire. She was beginning to be uncanny +again. + +"I expected you were going to be horrified at the dreadful creature your +friend had taken up with. Oh, yes, I know in the eyes of your class +I'm a dreadful creature. I'm like a cat in many ways. I'm suspicious +of strangers, especially strangers of your class, and I sniff and sniff +until I feel it's all right. After the first few minutes I felt you were +all right. You're true and honourable, like Dale, aren't you?" + +Like a panther making a sudden spring, she sat bolt upright in her chair +as she launched this challenge at me. Now, it is disconcerting to a man +to have a woman leap at his throat and ask him whether he is true and +honourable, especially when his attitude towards her approaches the +Machiavellian. + +I could only murmur modestly that I hoped I could claim these +qualifications. + +"And you don't think me a dreadful woman?" + +"So far from it, Madame Brandt," I replied, "that I think you a +remarkable one." + +"I wonder if I am," she said, sinking back among her cushions. "I should +like to be for Dale's sake. I suppose you know I care a great deal for +Dale?" + +"I have taken the liberty of guessing it," said I. "And since you have +done me the honour of taking me so far into your confidence," I added, +playing what I considered to be my master-card, "may I venture to ask +whether you have contemplated"--I paused--"marriage?" + +Her brow grew dark, as she looked involuntarily at her bare left hand. + +"I have got a husband already," she replied. + +As I expected. Ladies like Lola Brandt always have husbands unfit for +publication; and as the latter seem to make it a point of honour never +to die, widowed Lolas are as rare as blackberries in spring. + +"Forgive my rudeness," I said, "but you wear no wedding ring." + +"I threw it into the sea." + +"Ah!" said I. + +"Do you want to hear about him?" she asked suddenly. "If we are to be +friends, perhaps you had better know. Somehow I don't like talking to +Dale about it. Do you mind putting some coals on the fire?" + +I busied myself with the coal-scuttle, lit a cigarette, and settled down +to hear the story. If it had not been told in the twilight hour by a +woman with a caressing, enveloping voice like Lola Brandt's I should +have yawned myself out of the house. + +It was a dismal, ordinary story. Her husband was a gentleman, a Captain +Vauvenarde in the French Army. He had fallen in love with her when she +had first taken Marseilles captive with the prodigiosities of her +horse Sultan. His proposals of manifold unsanctified delights met +with unqualified rejection by the respectable and not too passionately +infatuated Lola. When he nerved himself to the supreme sacrifice of +offering marriage she accepted. + +She had dreams of social advancement, yearned to be one of the white +faces of the audience in the front rows. The civil ceremony having been +performed, he pleaded with her for a few weeks' secrecy on account of +his family. The weeks grew into months, during which, for the sake of +a livelihood, she fulfilled her professional engagements in many other +towns. At last, when she returned to Marseilles, it became apparent that +Captain Vauvenarde had no intention whatever of acknowledging her openly +as his wife. Hence many tears. Moreover, he had little beyond his pay +and his gambling debts, instead of the comfortable little fortune that +would have assured her social position. Now, officers in the French +Army who marry ladies with performing horses are not usually guided by +reason; and Captain Vauvenarde seems to have been the most unreasonable +being in the world. It was beneath the dignity of Captain Vauvenarde's +wife to make a horse do tricks in public, and it was beneath Captain +Vauvenarde's dignity to give her his name before the world. She must +neither be Lola Brandt nor Madame Vauvenarde. She must give up her +fairly lucrative profession and live in semi-detached obscurity up a +little back street on an allowance of twopence-halfpenny a week and be +happy and cheerful and devoted. Lola refused. Hence more tears. + +There were scenes of frantic jealousy, not on account of any human +being, but on account of the horse. If she loved him as much as she +loved that abominable quadruped whose artificial airs and graces made +him sick every time he looked at it, she would accede to his desire. +Besides, he had the husband's right--a powerful privilege in France. She +pointed out that he could only exercise it by declaring her to be his +wife. Relations were strained. They led separate lives. From Marseilles +she went to Genoa, whither he followed her. Eventually he went away in a +temper and never came back. She had not heard from him since, and where +he was at the present moment she had not the faintest idea. + +"So you went cheerfully on with your profession?" I remarked. + +"I returned to Marseilles, and there I lost my horse Sultan. Then my +father died and left me pretty well off, and I hadn't the heart to train +another animal. So here I am. Ah!" + +With one of her lithe movements she rose to her feet, and, flinging out +her arms in a wide gesture, began to walk about the room, stopping here +and there to turn on the light and draw the flaring chintz curtains. I +rose, too, so as to aid her. Suddenly as we met, by the window, she laid +both her hands on my shoulders and looked into my face earnestly and +imploringly, and her lips quivered. I wondered apprehensively what she +was going to do next. + +"For God's sake, be my friend and help me!" + +The cry, in her rich, low notes, seemed to come from the depths of the +woman's nature. It caused some absurd and unnecessary chord within me to +vibrate. + +For the first time I realised that her strong, handsome face could look +nobly and pathetically beautiful. Her eyes swam in an adorable moisture +and grew very human and appealing. In a second all my self-denying +ordinances were forgotten. The witch had me in her power again. + +"My dear Madame Brandt," said I, "how can I do it?" + +"Don't take Dale from me. I've lived alone, alone, alone all these +years, and I couldn't bear it." + +"Do you care for him so very much?" + +She withdrew her hands and moved slightly. "Who else in the wide world +have I to care for?" + +This was very pathetic, but I had the sense to remark that compromising +the boy's future was not the best way of showing her devotion. + +"Oh, how could I do that?" she asked. "I can't marry him. And if I do +what I've never done before for any man--become his mistress--who need +know? I could stay in the background." + +"You seem to forget, dear lady," said I, "that Captain Vauvenarde is +probably alive." + +"But I tell you I've lost sight of him altogether." + +"Are you quite so sure," I asked, regaining my sanity by degrees, "that +Captain Vauvenarde has lost sight of you?" + +She turned quickly. "What do you mean?" + +"You have given him no chance as yet of recovering his freedom." + +She passed her hand over her face, and sat down on the sofa. "Do you +mean--divorce?" + +"It's an ugly word, dear Madame Brandt," said I, as gently as I could, +"but you and I are strong people and needn't fear uttering it. Don't +you think such a scandal would ruin Dale at the very beginning of his +career?" + +There was a short silence. I was glad to see she was feminine enough to +twist and tear her handkerchief. + +"What am I to do?" she asked at last. "I can't live this awful lonely +life much longer. Sometimes I get the creeps." + +I might have given her the sound advice to find healthy occupation +in training crocodiles to sit up and beg; but an idea which advanced +thinkers might classify as more suburban was beginning to take shape in +my mind. + +"Has it occurred to you," I said, "that now you have assumed the +qualifications imposed by Captain Vauvenarde for bearing his name?" + +"I don't understand." + +"You no longer perform in public. He would have no possible grievance +against you." + +"Are you suggesting that I should go back to my husband?" she gasped. + +"I am," said I, feeling mighty diplomatic. + +She looked straight in front of her, with parted lips, fingering her +handkerchief and evidently pondering the entirely new suggestion. I +thought it best to let her ponder. As a general rule, people will do +anything in the world rather than think; so, when one sees a human +being wrapped in thought, one ought to regard wilful disturbance of the +process as sacrilege. I lit a cigarette and wandered about the room. + +Eventually I came to a standstill before the Venus of Milo. But while +I was admiring its calm, mysterious beauty, the development of a former +idea took the shape of an inspiration which made my heart sing. Fate had +put into my hands the chance of complete eumoiriety. + +If I could effect a reconciliation between Lola Brandt and her husband, +Dale would be cured almost automatically of his infatuation, and +I should be the Deputy Providence bringing happiness to six human +beings--Lola Brandt, Captain Vauvenarde, Lady Kynnersley, Maisie +Ellerton, Dale, and Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos, who could not fail to +be delighted at the happiness of his goddess. + +There also might burst joyously on the earth a brood of gleeful little +Vauvenardes and merry little Kynnersleys, who might regard Simon de Gex +as their mythical progenitor. It might add to the gaiety of regiments +and the edification of parliaments. Acts should be judged, thought +I, not according to their trivial essence, but by the light of their +far-reaching consequences. + +Lola Brandt broke the silence. She did not look at me. She said: + +"I can't help feeling that you're my friend." + +"I am," I cried, in the exultation of my promotion to the role of Deputy +Providence. "I am indeed. And a most devoted one." + +"Will you let me think over what you've said for a day or two--and then +come for an answer?" + +"Willingly," said I. + +"And you won't----?" + +"What?" + +"No. I know you won't." + +"Tell Dale?" I said, guessing. "No, of course not." + +She rose and put out both her hands to me in a very noble gesture. I +took them and kissed one of them. + +She looked at me with parted lips. + +"You are the best man I have ever met," she said. + +At the moment of her saying it I believed it; such conviction is induced +by the utterances of this singular woman. But when I got outside the +drawing-room door my natural modesty revolted. I slapped my thigh +impatiently with what I thought were my gloves. They made so little +sound that I found there was only one. I had left the other inside. I +entered and found Lola Brandt in front of the fire holding my glove in +her hand. She started in some confusion. + +"Is this yours?" she asked. + +Now whose could it have been but mine? The ridiculous question worried +me, off and on, all the evening. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +The murder is out. A paragraph has appeared in the newspapers to the +effect that the marriage arranged between Mr. Simon de Gex and Miss +Eleanor Faversham will not take place. It has also become common +knowledge that I am resigning my seat in Parliament on account of +ill-health. That is the reason rightly assigned by my acquaintances for +the rupture of my engagement. I am being rapidly killed by the doleful +kindness of my friends. They are so dismally sympathetic. Everywhere I +go there are long faces and solemn hand-shakes. In order to cheer myself +I gave a little dinner-party at the club, and the function might have +been a depressed wake with my corpse in a coffin on the table. My +sisters, dear, kind souls, follow me with anxious eyes as if I were one +of their children sickening for chicken-pox. They upbraid me for leaving +them in ignorance, and in hushed voices inquire as to my symptoms. They +both came this morning to the Albany to see what they could do for me. +I don't see what they can do, save help Rogers put studs in my shirts. +They expressed such affectionate concern that at last I cried out: + +"My dear girls, if you don't smile, I'll sit upon the hearthrug and howl +like a dog." + +Then they exchanged glances and broke into hectic gaiety, dear things, +under the impression that they were brightening me up. I am being +deluged with letters. I had no idea I was such a popular person. They +come from high placed and lowly, from constituents whom my base and +servile flattery have turned into friends, from Members of Parliament, +from warm-hearted dowagers and from little girls who have inveigled me +out to lunch for the purpose of confiding to me their love affairs. I +could set up as a general practitioner of medicine on the advice that is +given me. I am recommended cod-liver oil, lung tonic, electric massage, +abdominal belts, warm water, mud baths, Sandow's treatment, and every +patent medicament save rat poison. I am urged to go to health resorts +ranging geographically from the top of the Jungfrau to Central Africa. +All kinds of worthy persons have offered to nurse me. Old General Wynans +writes me a four-page letter to assure me that I have only to go to his +friend Dr. Eustace Adams, of Wimpole Street, to be cured like a shot. I +happen to know that Eustace Adams is an eminent gynecologist. + +And the worst of it all is that these effusions written in the milk of +human kindness have to be answered. Dale is not here. I have to sit down +at my desk and toil like a galley slave. I am being worn to a shadow. + +Lola Brandt, too, has heard the news, Dale in Berlin, and the London +newspapers being her informants. Tears stood in her eyes when I called +to learn her decision. Why had I not told her I was so ill? Why had I +let her worry me with her silly troubles? Why had I not consulted +her friend, Sir Joshua Oldfield? She filled up my chair with cushions +(which, like most men, I find stuffy and comfortless), and if I had +given her the slightest encouragement, would have stuck my feet in hot +mustard and water. Why had I come out on such a dreadful day? It was +indeed a detestable day of raw fog. She pulled the curtains close, and, +insisting upon my remaining among my cushions, piled the grate with coal +half-way up the chimney. Would I like some eucalyptus? + +"My dear Madame Brandt," I cried, "my bronchial tubes and lungs are as +strong as a hippopotamus's." + +I wish every one would not conclude that I was going off in a rapid +decline. + +Lola Brandt prowled about me in a wistful, mothering way, showing me a +fresh side of her nature. She is as domesticated as Penelope. + +"You're fond of cooking, aren't you?" I asked suddenly. + +She laughed. "I adore it. How do you know?" + +"I guessed," said I. + +"I'm what the French call a _vraie bourgeoise_." + +"I'm glad to hear it," said I. + +"Are you? I thought your class hated the _bourgeoisie_." + +"The _bourgeoisie_," I said, "is the nation's granary of the virtues. +But for God's sake, don't tell any one that I said so!" + +"Why?" she asked. + +"If it found its way into print it would ruin my reputation for +epigram." + +She drew a step or two towards me in her slow rhythmic way, and smiled. + +"When you say or do a beautiful thing you always try to bite off its +tail." + +Then she turned and drew some needlework--plain sewing I believe they +call it--from beneath the Union Jack cushion and sat down. + +"I'll make a confession," she said. "Until now I've stuffed away my work +when I heard you coming. I didn't think it genteel. What do you think?" + +I scanned the shapeless mass of linen or tulle or whatever it was on her +lap. + +"I don't know whether it's genteel," I remarked, "but at present it +looks like nothing on God's earth." + +My masculine ignorance of such mysteries made her laugh. She is readily +moved to mild mirth, which makes her an easy companion. Besides, little +jokes are made to be laughed at, and I like women who laugh at them. +There was a brief silence. I smoked and made Adolphus stand up on his +hind legs and balance sugar on his nose. His mistress sewed. Presently +she said, without looking up from her work: + +"I've made up my mind." + +I rose from my cushioned seat, into which Adolphus, evidently thinking +me a fool, immediately snuggled himself, and I stood facing her with my +back to the fire. + +"Well?" said I. + +"I am ready to go back to my husband, if he can be found, and, of +course, if he will have me." + +I commended her for a brave women. She smiled rather sadly and shook her +head. + +"Those are two gigantic 'ifs.'" + +"Giants before now have been slain by the valiant," I replied. + +"How is Captain Vauvenarde to be found?" + +"An officer in the French Army is not like a lost sparrow in London. His +whereabouts could be obtained from the French War Office. What is his +regiment?" + +"The Chasseurs d'Afrique. Yes," she added thoughtfully. "I see, it isn't +difficult to trace him. I make one condition, however. You can't refuse +me." + +"What is that?" + +"Until things are fixed up everything must go on just as at present +between Dale and me. He is not to be told anything. If nothing comes +of it then I'll have him all to myself. I won't give him up and be left +alone. As long as I care for him, I swear to God, I won't!" she said, in +her low, rich voice--and I saw by her face that she was a woman of her +word. "Besides, he would come raving and imploring--and I'm not quite +a woman of stone. It isn't all jam to go back to my husband. Goodness +knows why I am thinking of it. It's for your sake. Do you know that?" + +I did not. I was puzzled. Why in the world should Lola Brandt, whom I +have only met three or four times, revolutionise the whole of her life +for my sake? + +"I should have thought it was for Dale's," said I. + +"I suppose you would, being a man," she replied. + +I retorted, with a smile: "Woman is the eternal conundrum to which the +wise man always leaves her herself to supply the answer. Doubtless one +of these days you'll do it. Meanwhile, I'll wait in patience." + +She gave me one of her sidelong, flashing glances and sewed with more +vigour than appeared necessary. I admired the beautiful curves of her +neck and shoulders as she bent over her work. She seemed too strong to +wield such an insignificant weapon as a needle. + +"That's neither here nor there," she said in reference to my last +remark. "I say, I don't look forward to going back to my husband--though +why I should say 'going back' I don't know, as he left me--not I him. +Anyhow, I'm ready to do it. If it can be managed, I'll cut myself adrift +suddenly from Dale. It will be more merciful to him. A man can bear a +sudden blow better than lingering pain. If it can't be managed, well, +Dale will know nothing at all about it, and both he and I will be saved +a mortal deal of worry and unhappiness." + +"Suppose" said I, "it can't be managed? Do you propose to keep Dale +ignorant of the danger he is running in keeping up a liaison with a +married woman living apart from her husband?" + +She reflected. "If my husband says he'll see me damned first before +he'll come back to me, then I'll tell Dale everything, and you can say +what you like to him. He'll be able to judge for himself; but in the +meanwhile you'll let me have what happiness I can." + +I accepted the compromise, and, dispossessing Adolphus, sat down again. +I certainly had made progress. Feeling in a benevolent mood, I set forth +the advantages she would reap by assuming her legal status; how at last +she would shake the dust of Bohemia from off her feet, and instead of +standing at the threshold like a disconsolate Peri, she would enter as a +right the Paradise of Philistia which she craved; how her life would be +one continual tea-party, and how, as her husband had doubtless by this +time obtained his promotion, she would be authorised to adopt high and +mighty airs in her relations with the wives of all the captains and +lieutenants in the regiment. She sighed and wondered whether she would +like it, after all. + +"Here in England I can say 'damn' as often as I choose. I don't say it +very often, but sometimes I feel I must say it or explode." + +"There are its equivalents in French," I suggested. + +She laughed outright. "Fancy my coming out with a _sacre nom de Dieu_ in +a French drawing-room!" + +"Fancy you shouting 'damn' in an English one." + +"That's true," she said. "I suppose drawing-rooms are the same all the +world over. I do try to talk like a lady--at least, what I imagine they +talk like, for I've never met one." + +"You see one every time you look in the glass," said I. + +Her olive face flushed. "You mustn't say such things to me if you don't +mean them. I like to think all you say to me is true." + +"Why in the world," I cried, "should you not be a lady? You have the +instincts of one. How many of my fair friends in Mayfair and Belgravia +would have made their drawing-rooms unspeakable just for the sake of not +hurting the feelings of Anastasius Papadopoulos?" + +She put aside her work and, leaning over the arm of the chair, her chin +in her hands, looked at me gratefully. + +"I'm so glad you've said that. Dale can't understand it. He wants me to +clear the trash away." + +"Dale," said I, "is young and impetuous. I am a battered old philosopher +with one foot in the grave." + +Quick moisture gathered in her eyes. "You hurt me," she said. "You'll +soon get well and strong again. You must!" + +"_Ce que femme veut, Dieu le veut_," I laughed. + +"_Eh bien, je le veux_," she said with an odd expression in her eyes +which burned golden. They fascinated me, held mine. For some seconds +neither of us moved. Just consider the picture. There among the cushions +of her chair she sprawled beneath the light of a shaded lamp on the +further side, and in front of the leaping flames, a great, powerful, +sinuous creature of sweeping curves, clad in a clinging brown dress, her +head crowned with superb bronze hair, two warm arms bare to the elbow, +at which the sleeve ended in coffee-coloured lace falling over the side +of the chair, and her leopard eyes fixed on me. About her still hung the +echo of her last words spoken in deep tones whose register belongs less +to human habitations than to the jungle. And from her emanated like +a captivating odour--but it was not an odour--a strange magnetic +influence. + +I have done my best to write her down in my mind a commonplace, vulgar, +good-natured mountebank. But I can do so no longer. + +There is something deep down in the soul of Lola Brandt which sets her +apart from the kindly race of womankind; whether it is the devil or +a touch of pre-Adamite splendour or an ancestral catamount, I make +no attempt to determine. At any rate, she is too grand a creature to +fritter her life away on a statistic-hunting and pheasant-shooting young +Briton like Dale Kynnersley. He would never begin to understand her. I +will save her from Dale for her own sake. + +All this, ladies and gentlemen, because her eyes fascinated me, and +caused me to hold my breath, and made my heart beat. + +And will Captain Vauvenarde understand her? Of course he won't. But then +he is her husband, and husbands are notoriously and _cum privilegio_ +dunder-headed. I make no pretensions to understand her, but as I am +neither her lover nor her husband it does not matter. She says nothing +diabolical or eerie or fantastic or feline or pre-Adamite or uncanny or +spiritual; and yet she _is_, in a queer, indescribable way, all these +things. + +"_Je le veux_," she said, and we drank in each other's souls, or +gaped at each other like a pair of idiots just as you please. I had a +horrible, yet pleasurable consciousness that she had gripped hold of my +nerves of volition. She was willing me to live. I was a puppet in her +hands like the wild tom-cat. At that moment I declare I could have +purred and rubbed my head against her knee. I would have done anything +she bade me. If she had sent me to fetch the Cham of Tartary's cap or a +hair of the Prester John's beard, I would have telephoned forthwith to +Rogers to pack a suit-case and book a seat in the Orient express. + +What would have happened next Heaven alone knows--for we could not have +gone on gazing at each other until I backed myself out at the door by +way of leave-taking--had not Anticlimax arrived in the person of Mr. +Anastasius Papadopoulos in his eternal frock-coat. But his gloves were +black. + +As usual he fell on his knees and kissed his lady's hand. Then he rose +and greeted me with solemn affability. + +"_C'est un privilege de rencontrer den gnadigsten Herrn_," said he. + +Confining myself to one language, I responded by informing him that +it was an honour always to meet so renowned a professor, and inquired +politely after the health of Hephaestus. + +"Ah, Signore!" he cried. "Do not ask me. It is a tragedy from which I +shall never recover." + +He sat down on a footstool by the side of Madame Brandt and burst into +tears, which coursed down his cheeks and moustache and hung like drops +of dew from the point of his imperial. + +"Is he dead?" asked Madame. + +"I wish he were! No. It is only the iron self-restraint that I possess +which prevented me from slaying him on the spot. But poor Santa Bianca! +My gentle and accomplished Angora. He has killed her. I can scarcely +raise my head through grief." + +Lola put her great arm round the little man's neck and patted him like a +child, while he sobbed as if his heart would break. + +When he recovered he gave us the details of the tragic end of Santa +Bianca, and wound up by calling down the most ingeniously complicated +and passionate curses on the head of the murderer. Lola Brandt strove to +pacify him. + +"We all have our sorrows, Anastasius. Did I not lose my beautiful horse +Sultan?" + +The professor sprang to his full height of four feet and dashed away his +tears with a noble gesture of his black-gloved hand. + +Base slave that he was to think of his own petty bereavement in the face +of her eternal affliction. He turned to me and bade me mark her serene +nobility. It was a model and an example for him to follow. He, too, +would be brave and present a smiling face to evil fortune. + +"Behold! I smile, carissima!" he cried dramatically. + +We beheld--and saw his features (smudged with tearstains and the dye +from the black gloves which he obviously wore out of respect for the +deceased Santa Bianca) contorted into a grimace of hideous imbecility. + +"Monsieur," said he, assuming his natural expression which was one of +pensive melancholy, "let us change the conversation. You are a great +statesman. Will you kindly let me know your opinion on the foreign +policy of Germany?" + +Whereupon he sat down again upon his stool and regarded me with earnest +attention. + +"Germany," said I, with the solemnity of a Sir Oracle in the +smoking-room of one of the political clubs, "has dreams of an empire +beyond her frontiers, and with a view to converting the dream into a +reality, is turning out battleships nineteen to the dozen." + +The Professor nodded his head sagaciously, and looked up at Lola. + +"Very profound," said he, "very profound. I shall remember it. I am +a Greek, Monsieur, and the Greeks, as you know, are a nation of +diplomatists." + +"Ever since the days of Xenophon," said I. + +"You're both too clever for me," exclaimed our hostess. "Where did you +get your knowledge from, Anastasius?" + +The Professor, flattered, passed his hand over his bulgy forehead. + +"I was a great student in my youth," said he. "Once I could tell you all +the kings of Rome and the date of the battle of Actium. But pressure of +weightier concerns has driven my erudition from me. Pardon me. I have +not yet asked after your health. You are looking sad and troubled. What +is the matter?" + +He sat bolt upright, fingering his imperial and regarding her with the +keen solicitude of a family physician. To my amazement, Lola Brandt told +him quite simply: + +"I am thinking of living with my husband again." + +"Has the traitor been annoying you?" he asked with a touch of +fierceness. + +"Oh, no! It's my own idea. I'm tired of living alone. I don't even know +where he is." + +"Do you want to know where he is?" + +"How can I communicate with him unless I do?" + +Anastasius Papadopoulos rose, struck an attitude, and thumped his +breast. + +"I will seek him for you at the ends of the earth, and will bring him to +prostrate himself at your feet." + +"That's very kind of you, Anastasius," said Lola gently; "but what will +become of your cats?" + +The dwarf raised his hand impressively. + +"The Almighty will have them in His keeping. I have also my pupil and +assistant, Quast." + +Lola smiled indulgently from her cushions, showing her curious even +teeth. + +"You mustn't do anything so mad, Anastasius, I forbid you." + +"Madame," said he in a most stately manner, "when I devote myself, it is +to the death. I have the honour to salute you!"--he bowed over her +hand and kissed it. "Monsieur." He bowed to me with the profundity of a +hidalgo, and trotted magnificently out of the room. + +It was all so sudden that it took my breath away. + +"Well I'm----" I didn't know what I was, so I stopped. Lola Brandt broke +into low laughter at my astonishment. + +"That's Anastasius's way," she explained. + +"But the little man surely isn't going to leave his cats and start on a +wild-goose chase over Europe to find your husband?" + +"He thinks he is, but I shan't let him." + +"I hope you won't," said I. "And will you tell me why you made so +hot-headed a person your confidant?" + +I confess that I was wrathful. Here had I been using the wiles of a +Balkan chancery to bring the lady to my way of thinking, and here was +she, to my face, making a joke of it with this caricature of a Paladin. + +"My dearest friend," she replied earnestly, "don't be angry with me. +I've given the poor little man something to think of besides the death +of his cat. It will do him good. And why shouldn't I tell him? He's a +dear old friend, and in his way was so good to me when I was unhappy. He +knows all about my married life. You may think he's half-witted; but he +isn't. In ordinary business dealings he's as shrewd as they make 'em. +The manager who beats Anastasius over a contract is yet to be born." + +By some extraordinary process of the contortionist's art, she curled +herself out of her chair on to the hearthrug and knelt before me, her +hands clasped on my knee. + +"You're not angry with me, are you?" she asked in her rich contralto. + +I took both her hands, rose, and assisted her to rise. I was not going +to be mesmerised again. + +"Of course not," I laughed. Indeed my wrath had fallen from me. + +Her bosom heaved with a sigh. "I'm so glad," she said. Her breath fanned +my cheek. It was aromatic, intoxicating. Her lips are ripe and full. + +"You had better find your husband as soon as possible," said I. + +"Do you think so?" she asked. + +"Yes, I do. And it strikes me I had better go and find him myself." + +She started. "You?" + +"Yes," I said. "The Chasseurs d'Afrique are probably in Africa, and the +doctors have ordered me to winter in a hot climate, and I shall go on +writing a million letters a day if I stay here, which will kill me off +in no time with brain fag and writer's cramp. Your husband will be what +the newspapers call an objective. Good-bye!" said I, "I'll bring him to +you dead or alive." + +And without knowing it at the time, I made an exit as magnificent as +that of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +I do not know whether I ought to laugh or rail. Judged by the ordinary +canons that regulate the respectable life to which I have been +accustomed, I am little short of a lunatic. The question is: Does +the recognition of lunacy in oneself tend to amusement or anger? I +compromise with myself. I am angry at having been forced on an insane +adventure, but the prospect of its absurdity gives me a considerable +pleasure. + +Let me set it down once and for all. I resent Lola Brandt's existence. +When I am out of her company I can contemplate her calmly from my +vantage of social and intellectual superiority. I can pooh-pooh her +fascinations. I can crack jokes on her shortcomings. I can see perfectly +well that I am Simon de Gex, M.P. (I have not yet been appointed to +the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds), of Eton and Trinity College, +Cambridge, a barrister of the Inner Temple (though a brief would cause +me as much dismay as a command to conduct the orchestra at Covent +Garden), formerly of the Foreign Office, a man of the world, a +diner-out, a hardened jester at feminine wiles, a cynical student of +philosophy, a man of birth, and, I believe, breeding with a cultivated +taste in wine and food and furniture, one also who, but for a little +pain inside, would soon become a Member of His Majesty's Government, +and eventually drop the "Esquire" at the end of his name and stick "The +Right Honourable" in front of it--in fact, a most superior, wise and +important person; and I can also see perfectly well that Lola Brandt +is an uneducated, lowly bred, vagabond female, with a taste, as I have +remarked before, for wild beasts and tea-parties, with whom I have +as much in common as I have with the feathered lady on a coster's +donkey-cart or the Fat Woman at the Fair. I can see all this perfectly +well in the calm seclusion of my library. But when I am in her +presence my superiority, like Bob Acres's valour, oozes out through my +finger-tips; I become a besotted idiot; the sense and the sight and +the sound of her overpower me; I proclaim her rich and remarkable +personality; and I bask in her lazy smiles like any silly undergraduate +whose knowledge of women has hitherto been limited to his sisters and +the common little girl at the tobacconist's. + +I say I resent it. I resent the low notes in her voice. I resent the +cajolery of the supple twists of her body. I resent her putting her +hands on my shoulders, and, as the twopenny-halfpenny poets say, fanning +my cheek with her breath. If it had not been for that I should never +have promised to go in search of her impossible husband. At any rate, it +is easy to discover his whereabouts. A French bookseller has telegraphed +to Paris for the _Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise_, the French +Army List. It locates every officer in the French army, and as the +Chasseurs d'Afrique generally chase in Africa, it will tell me the +station in Algeria or Tunisia which Captain Vauvenarde adorns. I can +go straight to him as Madame Brandt's plenipotentiary, and if the +unreasonable and fire-eating warrior does not run me through the body +for impertinence before he has time to appreciate the delicacy of my +mission, I may be able to convince him that a well-to-do wife is worth +the respectable consideration of a hard-up captain of Chasseurs. I say +I may be able to convince him; but I shrink from the impudence of the +encounter. I am to accost a total stranger in a foreign army and tell +him to return to his wife. This is the pretty little mission I have +undertaken. It sounded glorious and eumoirous and quixotic and deucedly +funny, during the noble moment of inspiration, when Lola's golden eyes +were upon me; but now--well, I shall have to persuade myself that it is +funny, if I am to carry it out. It is very much like wagering that one +will tweak by the nose the first gentleman in gaiters and shovel-hat +one meets in Piccadilly. This by some is considered the quintessence of +comedy. I foresee a revision of my sense of humour. + +This afternoon I met Lady Kynnersley again--at the Ellertons'. I was +talking to Maisie, who has grown no happier, when I saw her sailing +across to me with questions hoisted in her eyes. Being particularly +desirous not to report progress periodically to Lady Kynnersley, I made +a desperate move. I went forward and greeted her. + +"Lady Kynnersley," said I, "somebody was telling me that you are in +urgent need of funds for something. With my usual wooden-headedness I +have forgotten what it is--but I know it is a deserving organisation." + +The philanthropist, as I hoped, ousted the mother. She exclaimed at +once: + +"It must have been the Cabmen and Omnibus Drivers' Rheumatic Hospital." + +"That was it!" said I, hearing of the institution for the first time. + +"They are martyrs to rheumatic gout, and of course have no means of +obtaining proper treatment; so we have secured a site at Harrogate and +are building a comfortable place, half hospital, half hotel, where they +can be put up for a shilling a day and have all the benefits of the +waters just as if they were staying at the Hotel Majestic. Do you want +to become a subscriber?" + +"I am eager to," said I. + +"Then come over here and I'll tell you all about it." + +I sat with her in a corner of the room and listened to her fairy-tale. +She wrung my heart to such a pitch of sympathy that I rose and grasped +her by the hand. + +"It is indeed a noble project," I cried. "I love the London cabby as my +brother, and I'll post you a cheque for a thousand pounds this evening. +Good-bye!" + +I left her in a state of joyous stupefaction and made my escape. If it +had not fallen in with my general scheme of good works I should regard +it as an expensive method of avoiding unpleasant questions. + +Another philanthropist, by the way, of quite a different type from Lady +Kynnersley, who has lately benefited by my eleemosynary mania is Rex +Campion. I have known him since our University days and have maintained +a sincere though desultory friendship with him ever since. He is also a +friend of Eleanor Faversham, whom he now and then inveigles into weird +doings in the impossible slums of South Lambeth. He has tried on many +occasions to lure me into his web, but hitherto I have resisted. +Being the possessor of a large fortune, he has been able to gratify a +devouring passion for philanthropy, and has squandered most of his money +on an institution--a kind of club, school, labour-bureau, dispensary, +soup-kitchen, all rolled into one--in Lambeth; and there he +lives himself, perfectly happy among a hungry, grubby, scarecrow, +tatterdemalion crowd. At a loss for a defining name, he has called it +"Barbara's Building," after his mother. His conception of the cosmos +is that sun, moon and stars revolve round Barbara's Building. How he +learned that I was, so to speak, standing at street corners and flinging +money into the laps of the poor and needy, I know not. But he came to +see me a day or two ago, full of Barbara's Building, and departed in +high feather with a cheque for a thousand pounds in his pocket. + +I may remark here on the peculiar difficulty there is in playing Monte +Cristo with anything like picturesque grace. Any dull dog that owns +a pen and a banking-account can write out cheques for charitable +institutions. But to accomplish anything personal, imaginative, +adventurous, anything with a touch of distinction, is a less easy +matter. You wake up in the morning with the altruistic yearnings of a +St. Francois de Sales, and yet somehow you go to bed in the evening with +the craving unsatisfied. You have really had so few opportunities; and +when an occasion does arise it is hedged around with such difficulties +as to baffle all but the most persistent. Have you ever tried to give a +beggar a five-pound note? I did this morning. + +She was a miserable, shivering, starving woman of fifty selling matches +in Sackville Street. She held out a shrivelled hand to me, and eyes that +once had been beautiful pleaded hungrily for alms. + +"Here," said I to myself, "is an opportunity of bringing unimagined +gladness for a month or two into this forlorn creature's life." + +I pressed a five-pound note into her hand and passed on. She ran after +me, terror on her face. + +"I daren't take it, sir; they would say I had stolen it, and I should be +locked up. No one would believe a gentleman had given it to me." + +She trembled, overwhelmed by the colossal fortune that might, and yet +might not, be hers. I sympathised, but not having the change in gold, I +could do no more than listen to an incoherent tale of misery, which did +not aid the solution of the problem. It was manifestly impossible to +take back the note; and yet if she retained it she would be subjected +to scandalous indignities. What was to be done? I turned my eyes +towards Piccadilly and beheld a policeman. A page wearing the name of a +milliner's shop on his cap whisked past me. I stopped him and slipped a +shilling into his hand. + +"Will you ask that policeman to come to me?" + +The boy tore down the street and told the policeman and followed him up +to me, eager for amusement. + +"What has the woman been doing, sir?" asked the policeman. + +"Nothing," said I. "I have given her a five-pound note." + +"What for, sir?" he asked. + +"To further my pursuit of the eumoirous," said I, whereat he gaped +stolidly; "but, be that as it may, I have given it her as a free gift, +and she is afraid to present it anywhere lest she should be charged with +theft. Will you kindly accompany her to a shop, where she can change it, +and vouch for her honesty?" + +The policeman, who seemed to form the lowest opinion of my intellect, +said he didn't know a shop on his beat where they could change it. The +boy whistled. The woman held the box of matches in one hand, and in the +other the note, fluttering in the breeze. Idlers paused and looked on. +The policeman grew authoritative and bade them pass along. They crowded +all the more. My position was becoming embarrassing. At last the boy, +remembering the badge of honour on his cap, undertook to change the note +at the hatter's at the corner of the street. So, having given the note +to the boy and bidden the policeman follow him to see fair play, and +encouraged the woman to follow the policeman, I resumed my walk down +Sackville Street. + +But what a pother about a simple act of charity! In order to repeat it +habitually I shall have to rely on the fortuitous attendance of a boy +and a policeman, or have a policeman and a boy permanently attached to +my person, which would be as agreeable as the continuous escort of a +jackdaw and a yak. + + + +Poor Latimer is having a dreadful time. Apparently my ten thousand +pounds have vanished like a snowflake on the river of liabilities. How +he is to repay me he does not know. He wishes he had not yielded to +temptation and had allowed himself to be honestly hammered. Then +he could have taken his family to sing in the streets with a quiet +conscience. + +"My dear fellow," said I through the telephone this morning. "What are +ten thousand pounds to me?" + +I heard him gasp at the other end. + +"But you're not a millionaire!" + +"I am!" I cried triumphantly. And now I come to think of it, I spoke +truly. If a man reckons his capital as half a year's income, doubles it, +and works out the capital that such a yearly income represents, he is +the possessor of a mint of money. + +"I am," I cried; "and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll settle five +thousand on Lucy and the children, so that they needn't accompany you +in your singing excursions. I shouldn't like them to catch cold, poor +dears, and ruin their voices." + +In tones more than telephonically agonised he bade me not make a jest of +his misery. I nearly threw the receiver at the blockhead. + +"I'm not jesting," I bawled; "I'm deadly serious. I knew Lucy before you +did, and I kissed her and she kissed me years before she knew of your +high existence; and if she had been a sensible woman she would have +married me instead of you--what? The first time you've heard of it? Of +course it is--and be decently thankful that you hear it now." + +It is pleasant sometimes to tell the husbands of girls you have loved +exactly what you think of them; and I had loved Lucy Latimer. She came, +an English rose, to console me for the loss of my French _fleur-de-lis_, +Clothilde. Or was it the other way about? One does get so mixed in these +things. At any rate, she did not marry me, her first love, but jilted me +most abominably for Latimer. So I shall heap five thousand pounds on her +head. + +I have been unfortunate in my love affairs. I wonder why? Which reminds +me that I made the identical remark to Lucy Latimer a month or two ago. +(She is a plump, kind, motherly, unromantic little person now.) She had +the audacity to reply that I had never had any. + +"_You_, Lucy Crooks, dare say such a thing!" I exclaimed indignantly. + +She smiled. "Are there many more qualified than I to give the opinion?" + +I remember that I rose and looked her sternly in the face. + +"Lucy Crooks or Lucy Latimer," said I, "you are nothing more or less +than a common hussy." + +Whereupon she laughed as if I had paid her a high compliment. + +I maintain that I have been unfortunate in my love affairs. First, there +was an angel-faced widow, a contemporary of my mother's, whom I wooed in +Greek verses--and let me tell the young lover that it is much easier +to write your own doggerel and convert it into Greek than to put "To +Althea" into decent Anacreontics. I also took her to the Eton and Harrow +match, and talked to her of women's hats and the things she loved, and +neglected the cricket. But she would have none of me. In the flood tide +of my passion she married a scorbutic archdeacon of the name of Jugg. +Then there was a lady whose name for the life of me I can't remember. It +was something ending in "-ine." We quarrelled because we held divergent +views on Mr. Wilson Barrett. Then there was Clothilde, whose tragical +story I have already unfolded; Lucy Crooks, who threw me over for this +dear, amiable, wooden-headed stockjobbing Latimer; X, Y and Z--but here, +let me remark, I was the hunted--mammas spread nets for me which by the +grace of heaven and the ungraciousness of the damsels I escaped; and, +lastly, my incomparable Eleanor Faversham. Now, I thought, am I safe +in harbour? If ever a match could have been labelled "Pure heaven-made +goods, warranted not to shrink"--that was one. But for this rupture +there is an all-accounting reason. For the others there was none. I vow +I went on falling in love until I grew absolutely sick and tired of the +condition. You see, the vocabulary of the pastime is so confoundedly +limited. One has to say to B what one has said to A; to C exactly +what one has said to A and B; and when it comes to repeating to F +the formularies one has uttered to A, B, C, D and E one grows almost +hysterical with the boredom of it. That was the delightful charm of +Eleanor Faversham; she demanded no formularies or re-enactment of +raptures. + +The _Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise_ has arrived. It is a volume +of nearly eighteen hundred pages, and being uncut both at top and bottom +and at the side it is peculiarly serviceable as a work of reference. +I attacked it bravely, however, hacking my way into it, paperknife +in hand. But to my dismay, the more I hacked the less could I find +of Captain Vauvenarde. I sought him in the Alphabetical Repertory of +Colonial Troops, in the list of officers _hors cadre_, in the lists +of seniority, in the list of his regiment, wherever he was likely or +unlikely to be. There is no person in the French army by the name of +Vauvenarde. + +I went straight to Lola Brandt with the hideous volume and the unwelcome +news. Together we searched the pages. + +"He _must_ be here," she said, with feminine disregard of fact. + +"Are you quite certain you have got the name right?" I asked. + +"Why, it is my own name!" + +"So it is," said I; "I was forgetting. But how do you know he was in the +army at all?" + +He might have been an adventurer, a Captain of Kopenick of the day, who +had poured a gallant but mendacious tale into her ears. + +"I hardly ever saw him out of uniform. He was quartered at Marseilles on +special duty. I knew some of his brother officers." + +"Then," said I, "there are only two alternatives. Either he has left the +army or he is----" + +"Dead?" she whispered. + +"Let us hope," said I, "that he has left the army." + +"You must find out, Mr. de Gex," she said in a low voice. "I took it for +granted that my husband was alive. It's horrible to think that he may be +dead. It alters everything, somehow. Until I know, I shall be in a state +of awful suspense. You'll make inquiries at once, won't you?" + +"Did you love your husband, Madame Brandt?" I asked. + +She looked at the fire for some time without replying. She stood with +one foot on the fender. + +"I thought I did when I married him," she said at last. "I thought I did +when he left me." + +"And now?" + +She turned her golden eyes full on me. It is a disconcerting trick of +hers at any time, because her eyes are at once wistful and compelling; +but on this occasion it was startling. They held mine for some seconds, +and I caught in them a glimpse of the hieroglyphic of the woman's soul. +Then she turned her head slowly and looked again into the fire. + +"Now?" she echoed. "Many things have happened between then and now. If +he is alive and I go to him, I'll try to think again that I love him. It +will be the only way. It will save me from playing hell with my life." + +"I am glad you see your relations to Dale in that light," said I. + +"I wasn't thinking of Dale," she said calmly. + +"Of what, then, if I may ask without impertinence?" + +She broke into a laugh which ended in a sigh, and then swung her +splendid frame away from the fireplace and walked backwards and +forwards, her figure swaying and her arms flung about in unrestrained +gestures. + +"You are quite right," she said, with an odd note of hardness in her +voice. "You're quite right in what you said the other day--that it was +high time I went back to my husband. I pray God he is not dead. I have +a feeling that he isn't. He can't be. I count on you to find him and ask +him to meet me. It would be better than writing. I don't know what to +say when I have a pen in my hand. You must find him and speak to him and +send me a wire and I'll come straight away to any part of the earth. Or +would you like me to come with you and help you find him? But no; that's +idiotic. Forget that I have said it. I'm a fool. But he must be found. +He must, he must!" + +She paused in her swinging about the room for which I was sorry, as her +panther-in-a-cage movements were exceedingly beautiful, and she gazed +at me with a tragic air, wringing her hands. I was puzzled to find an +adequate reason for this sudden emotional outburst. Hitherto she had +accepted the prospect of a resumption of married life with a fatalistic +calm. Now when the man is either dead or has vanished into space, +she pins all her hopes of happiness on finding him. And why had her +salvation from destruction nothing to do with Dale? There is obviously +another range of emotions at work beneath it all; but what their nature +is baffles me. Although I contemplate with equanimity my little +corner in the Garden of Prosperpine, and with indifference this common +lodging-house of earth, and although I view mundane affairs with the +same fine, calm, philosophic, satirical eye as if I were already a +disembodied spirit, yet I do not like to be baffled. It makes me angry. +But during this interview with Lola Brandt I had not time to be angry. +I am angry now. In fact I am in a condition bordering on that of a mad +dog. If Rogers came and disturbed me now, as I am writing, I would bite +him. But I will set calmly down the story of this appalling afternoon. + +Lola stood before me wringing her hands. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"I can get an introduction to the _Chef de bureau_ of the information +department of the _Ministere de la Guerre_ in Paris," I replied after +a moment's reflection. "He will be able to tell me whether Captain +Vauvenarde is alive or dead." + +"He is alive. He must be." + +"Very well. But I doubt whether Captain Vauvenarde keeps the office +informed of his movements." + +"But you'll go in search of him, won't you?" + +"The earth is rather a large place," I objected. "He may be in Dieppe, +or he may be on top of Mount Popocatapetl." + +"I'm sure you'll find him," she said encouragingly. + +"You'll own," said I, "that there's something humourous in the idea +of my wandering all over the surface of the planet in search of a +lost captain of Chasseurs. It is true that we might employ a private +detective." + +"Yes!" she cried eagerly. "Why not? Then you could stay here--and I +could go on seeing you till the news came. Let us do that." + +The swiftness of her change of mood surprised me. + +"What is the particular object of your going on seeing me?" I asked, +with a smile. + +She turned away and shrugged her shoulders and took up her pensive +attitude by the fire. + +"I have no other friend," she said. + +"There's Dale." + +"He's not the same." + +"There's Sir Joshua Oldfield." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +I lit a cigarette and sat down. There was a long silence. In some +unaccountable way she had me under her spell again. I felt a perfectly +insane dismay at the prospect of ending this queer intimacy, and I +viewed her intrigue with Dale with profound distaste. Lola had become a +habit. The chair I was sitting in was _my_ chair. Adolphus was _my_ dog. +I hated the idea of Dale making him stand up and do sentry with the fire +shovel, while Lola sprawled gracefully on the hearthrug. On the other +hand the thought of remaining in London and sharing with my young friend +the privilege of her society was intolerable. + +I smoked, and, watching her bosom rise and fall as she leaned forward +with one arm on the mantelpiece, argued it out with myself, and came to +the paradoxical conclusion that I could pack her off without a pang to +Kamtchatka and the embraces of her unknown husband, but could not hand +her over to Dale without feelings of the deepest repugnance. A pretty +position to find myself in. I threw away my cigarette impatiently. + +Presently she said, not stirring from her pose: + +"I shall miss you terribly if you go. A man like you doesn't come +into the life of a common woman like me without"--she hesitated for a +word--"without making some impression. I can't bear to lose you." + +"I shall be very sorry to give up our pleasant comradeship," said I, +"but even if I stay and send the private inquiry agent instead of going +myself, I shan't be able to go on seeing you in this way." + +"Why not?" + +"It would be scarcely dignified." + +"On account of Dale?" + +"Precisely." + +There was another pause, during which I lit another cigarette. When I +looked up I saw great tears rolling down her cheeks. A weeping woman +always makes me nervous. You never know what she is going to do next. +Safety lies in checking the tears--in administering a tonic. Still, her +wish to retain me was very touching. I rose and stood before her by the +mantelpiece. + +"You can't have your pudding and eat it too," said I. + +"What do you mean?" + +"You can't have Captain Vauvenarde for your husband, Dale for your +_cavaliere servente_, and myself for your guide, philosopher and friend +all at the same time." + +"Which would you advise me to give up?" + +"That's obvious. Give up Dale." + +She uttered a sound midway between a sob and a laugh, and said, as it +seemed, ironically: + +"Would you take his place?" + +Somewhat ironically, too, I replied, "A crock, my dear lady, with one +foot in the grave has no business to put the other into the _Pays du +Tendre_." + +But all the same I had an absurd desire to take her at her word, not +for the sake of constituting myself her _amant en titre_, but so as +to dispossess the poor boy who was clamouring wildly for her among his +mother's snuffy colleagues in Berlin. + +"That's another reason why I shrink from your going in search of my +husband," she said, dabbing her eyes. "Your ill-health." + +"I shall have to go abroad out of this dreadful climate in any case. +Doctor's orders. And I might just as well travel about with an object in +view as idle in Monte Carlo or Egypt." + +"But you might die!" she cried; and her tone touched my heart. + +"I've got to," I said, as gently as I could; and the moment the words +passed my lips I regretted them. + +She turned a terrified look on me and seized me by the arms. + +"Is it as bad as that? Why haven't you told me?" + +I lifted my arms to her shoulders and shook my head and smiled into her +eyes. They seemed true, honest eyes, with a world of pain behind them. +If I had not regarded myself as the gentleman in the Greek Tragedy +walking straight to my certain doom, and therefore holding myself aloof +from such vain things, I should have yielded to the temptation and +kissed her there and then. And then goodness knows what would have +happened. + +As it was it was bad enough. For, as we stood holding on to each other's +shoulders in a ridiculous and compromising attitude, the door opened +and Dale Kynnersley burst, unannounced, into the room. He paused on the +threshold and gaped at us, open-mouthed. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +We sprang apart, for all the world like a guilty pair surprised. Luckily +the room was in its normal dim state of illumination, so that to one +suddenly entering, the expression on our faces was not clearly visible; +on the other hand, the subdued light gave a romantic setting to the +abominable situation. + +Lola saved it, however. She rushed to Dale. + +"Do you know what Mr. de Gex was just telling me? His illness--it is +worse than any one thought. It's incurable. He can't live long; he must +die soon. It's dreadful--dreadful! Did you know it?" + +Dale looked from her to me, and after a slight pause, came forward. + +"Is this true, Simon?" + +A plague on the woman for catching me in the trap! Before Dale came in +I was on the point of putting an airy construction on my indiscreet +speech. I had no desire to discuss my longevity with any one. I want +to keep my miserable secret to myself. It was exasperating to have +to entrust it even to Dale. And yet, if I repudiated her implied +explanation of our apparent embrace it would have put her hopelessly in +the wrong. I had to support her. + +"It's what the doctors say," I replied, "but whether it's true or not is +another matter." + +Again he looked queerly from me to Lola and from Lola back to me. His +first impression of our attitude had been a shock from which he found it +difficult to recover. I smiled, and, although perfectly innocent, felt a +villain. + +"Madame Brandt is good enough to be soft-hearted and to take a tragic +view of a most commonplace contingency." + +"But it isn't commonplace. By God, it's horrible!" cried the boy, the +arrested love for me suddenly gushing into his heart. "I had no idea of +it. In Heaven's name, Simon, why didn't you tell me? My dear old Simon." + +Tears rushed into his eyes and he gripped my hand until I winced. I put +my other hand on his shoulder and laughed with a contorted visage. + +"My good Dale, the moribund are fragile." + +"Oh, Lord, man, how can you make a jest of it?" + +"Would you have me drive about in a hearse, instead of a cab, by way of +preparation?" + +"But what have the doctors told you?" asked Lola. + +"My two dear people!" I cried, "for goodness' sake don't fall over me +in this way. I'm not going to die to-morrow unless my cook poisons me or +I'm struck by lightning. I'm going to live for a deuce of a time yet. +A couple of weeks at least. And you'll very much oblige me by not +whispering a word abroad about what you've heard this afternoon. It +would cause me infinite annoyance. And meanwhile I suggest to you, +Dale, as the lawyers say, that you have been impolite enough not to say +how-do-you-do to your hostess." + +He turned to her rather sheepishly, and apologised. My news had bowled +him over, he declared. He shook hands with her, laughed and walked +Adolphus about on his hind legs. + +"But where have you dropped from?" she asked. + +"Berlin. I came straight through. Didn't you get my wire?" + +"No." + +"I sent one." + +"I never got it." + +He swung his arms about in a fine rage. + +"If ever I get hold of that son of Satan I'll murder him. He was covered +up to his beastly eyebrows in silver lace and swords and whistles and +medals and things. He walked up and down the railway station as if he +owned the German navy and ran trains as a genteel hobby. I gave him ten +marks to send the telegram. The miserable beast has sneaked the lot. +I'll get at the railway company through the Embassy and have the brute +sacked and put in prison. Did you ever hear of such a skunk?" + +"He must have thought you a very simple and charming young Englishman," +said I. + +"You've done the same thing yourself!" he retorted indignantly. + +"Pardon me," said I. "If I do send a telegram in that loose way, I +choose a humble and honest-looking porter and give him the exact fee for +the telegram and a winning smile." + +"Rot!" said Dale, and turning to Lola--"He has demoralised the whole +railway system of Europe with his tips. I've seen him give a franc to +the black greasy devil that bangs at the carriage wheels with a bit of +iron. He would give anybody anything." + +He had recovered his boyish pride in my ridiculous idiosyncracies, and +was in process of illustrating again to Lola what a "splendid chap" +I was. Poor lad! If he only knew what a treacherous, traitorous, +Machiavelli of a hero he had got. For the moment I suffered from a nasty +crick in the conscience. + +"Wouldn't he, Adolphus, you celestial old blackguard?" he laughed. Then +suddenly: "My hat! You two are fond of darkness! It gives me the creeps. +Do you mind, Lola, if I turn on the light?" + +He marched in his young way across to the switches and set the room +in the blaze he loved. My crick of the conscience was followed by an +impulse of resentment. He took it for granted that his will was law in +the house. He swaggered around the room with a proprietary air. He threw +in the casual "Lola" as if he owned her. Dale is the most delightful +specimen of the modern youth of my acquaintance. But even Dale, with +all his frank charm of manner, has the modern youth's offhand way with +women. I often wonder how women abide it. But they do, more shame to +them, and suffer more than they realise by their indulgence. When next I +meet Maisie Ellerton I will read her a wholesome lecture, for her soul's +good, on the proper treatment a self-respecting female should apply to +the modern young man. + +Dale filled the room with his clear young laugh, and turned on every +light in the place. Lola and I exchanged glances--she had adopted her +usual lazy pantherine attitude in the armchair--and her glance was not +that of a happy woman to whom a longed-for lover had unexpectedly come. +Its real significance I could not divine, but it was more wistful than +merely that of a fellow-conspirator. + +"By George!" cried Dale, pulling up a chair by Lola's side, and +stretching out his long, well-trousered legs in front of the fire. +"It's good to come back to civilisation and a Christian language and a +fireside--and other things," he added, squeezing Lola's hand. "If only +it had not been for this horrible news about you, dear old man----" + +"Oh, do forget it and give me a little peace!" I cried. "Why have you +come back all of a sudden?" + +"The Wymington people wired for me. It seems the committee are divided +between me and Sir Gerald Macnaughton." + +"He has strong claims," said I. "He has been Mayor of the place and got +knighted by mistake. He also gives large dinners and wears a beautiful +diamond pin." + +"I believe he goes to bed in it. Oh, he's an awful ass! It was he who +said at a public function 'The Mayor of Wymington must be like Caesar's +wife--all things to all men!' Oh, he's a colossal ass! And his conceit! +My word!" + +"You needn't expatiate on it," said I. "I who speak have suffered much +at the hands of Sir Gerald Macnaughton." + +"If he did get into Parliament he'd expect an armchair to be put for him +next to the Speaker. Really, Lola, you never saw such a chap. If there +was any one else up against me I wouldn't mind. Anyway, I'm running down +to Wymington to-morrow to interview the committee. And if they choose +me, then it'll be a case of 'Lord don't help me and don't help the b'ar, +and you'll see the derndest best b'ar fight that ever was.' I'll make +things hum in Wymington!" + +He went on eagerly to explain how he would make things hum. For the +moment he had forgotten his enchantress who, understanding nothing of +platforms and planks and electioneering machinery, smiled with pensive +politeness at the fire. Here was the Dale that I knew and loved, boyish, +impetuous, slangy, enthusiastic. His dark eyes flashed, and he threw +back his head and laughed, as he enunciated his brilliant ideas for +capturing the constituency. + +"When I was working for you, I made love to half the women in the place. +You never knew that, you dear old stick. Now I'm going in on my own +account I'll make love to the whole crowd. You won't mind, Lola, will +you? There's safety in numbers. And when I have made love to them one +by one I'll get 'em all together and make love to the conglomerate mass! +And then I'll rake up all the prettiest women in London and get 'em down +there to humbug the men--" + +"Lady Kynnersley will doubtless be there," said I; "and I don't quite +see her--" + +He broke in with a laugh: "Oh! the mater! I'll fix up her job all right. +She'll just love it, won't she? And then I know a lot of silly asses +with motor-cars who'll come down. They can't talk for cob-nuts, and +think the Local Option has something to do with vivisection, and have a +vague idea that champagne will be cheaper if we get Tariff Reform--but +they'll make a devil of a noise at meetings and tote people round the +country in their cars holding banners with 'Vote for Kynnersley' on +them. That's a sound idea, isn't it?" + +I gravely commended the statesmanlike sagacity of his plan of campaign, +and promised to write as soon as I got home to one or two members of the +committee whom I suspected of pro-Macnaughton leanings. + +"I do hope they'll adopt you!" I cried fervently. + +"So do I," murmured Lola in her low notes. + +"If they don't," said Dale, "I'll ask Raggles to give me an unpaid +billet somewhere. But," he added, with a sigh, "that will be an awful +rotten game in comparison." + +"I'm afraid you won't make Raggles hum," said I. + +He laughed, rose and straddled across the hearthrug, his back to the +fire. + +"He'd throw me out if I tried, wouldn't he? But if they do adopt me--I +swear I'll make you proud of me, Simon. I'll stick my soul into it. It's +the least I can do in this horrid cuckoo sort of proceeding, and I feel +I shall be fighting for you as well as for myself. My dear old chap, you +know what I mean, don't you?" + +I knew, and was touched. I wished him God-speed with all my heart. +He was a clean, honest, generous gentleman, and I admired, loved and +respected him as he stood there full of his youth and hope. I suddenly +felt quite old and withered at the root of my being, like some decrepit +king who hands his crown to the young prince. I rose to take my +leave (for what advantage was there in staying?) and felt that I was +abandoning to Dale other things beside my crown. + +Lola's strong, boneless hand closed round mine in a more enveloping grip +than ever. She looked at me appealingly. + +"Shall I see you again before you go?" + +"Before you go?" cried Dale. "Where are you off to?" + +"Somewhere south, out of the fogs." + +"When?" + +"At once," said I. + +He turned to our hostess. "We can't let him go like that. I wonder if +you could fix up a little dinner here, Lola, for the three of us. It +would be ripping, so cosy, you know." + +He glowed with the preposterous inspiration. Lola began politely: + +"Of course, if Mr. de Gex----" + +"It would be delightful," said I, "but I'm starting at once--to-morrow +or the day after. We will have the dinner when I come back and you are a +full-blown Member of Parliament." + +I made my escape and fled to my own cheerful library. It is oak-panelled +and furnished with old oak, and the mezzo-tints on the walls are mellow. +Of the latter, I have a good collection, among them a Prince Rupert of +which I am proud. I threw myself, a tired man, into an armchair by the +fire, and rang the bell for a brandy and soda. Oh, the comfort of the +rooms, the comfort of Rogers, the comfort of the familiar backs of the +books in the shelves! I felt loth to leave it all and go vagabonding +about the cold world on my lunatic adventure. For the first time in my +life I cursed Marcus Aurelius. I shook my fist at him as he stood on the +shelf within easy reach of my hand. It was he who had put into my head +this confounded notion of achieving eumoiriety. Am I dealing to myself, +I asked, a happy lot and portion? Certainly not, I replied, and when +Rogers brought me my brandy and soda I drank it off desperately. After +that I grew better, and drew up a merry little Commination Service. + +A plague on the little pain inside. + +A plague on Lady Kynnersley for weeping me into my rash undertaking. + +A plague on Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos for aiding and abetting +Lady Kynnersley. + +A plague on Captain Vauvenarde for running away from his wife; for +giving up the army; for not letting me know whether he is alive or dead; +for being, I'll warrant him, in the most uncomfortable and ungetatable +spot on the globe. + +A plague on Dale for becoming infatuated with Lola Brandt. A plague on +him for beguiling me to her acquaintance; for bursting into the room at +that unfortunate moment; for his generous, unsuspecting love for me; +for his youth and hope and charm; for asking me to dine with Lola and +himself in ripping cosiness. + +A plague on myself--just to show that I am broad-minded. + +And lastly, a plague, a special plague, a veritable murrain on Lola +Brandt for complicating the splendid singleness of my purpose. I don't +know what to think of myself. I have become a common conundrum--which +provides the lowest form of intellectual amusement. It is all her fault. + +Listen. I set out to free a young man of brilliant promise, at his +mother's earnest entreaty, from an entanglement with an impossible lady, +and to bring him to the feet of the most charming girl in the world who +is dying of love for him. Could intentions be simpler or more honourable +or more praiseworthy? + +I find myself, after two or three weeks, the lady's warm personal +friend, to a certain extent her champion bound by a quixotic oath to +restore her husband to her arms, and regarding my poor Dale with a +feeling which is neither more nor less than green-eyed jealousy. I am +praying heaven to grant his adoption by the Wymington committee, not +because it will be the first step of the ladder of his career, but +because the work and excitement of a Parliamentary election will +prohibit overmuch lounging in _my_ chair in Lola Brandt's drawing-room. + +Is there any drug I wonder which can restore a eumoirous tone to the +system? + +Of course, Dale came round to my chambers in the evening and talked +about Lola and himself and me until I sent him home to bed. He kept on +repeating at intervals that I was glorious. I grew tired at last of the +eulogy, and, adopting his vernacular, declared that I should be jolly +glad to get out of this rubbishy world. He protested. There was never +such a world. It was gorgeous. What was wrong with it, anyway? As I +could not show him the Commination Service, I picked imaginary flaws in +the universe. I complained of its amateurishness of design. But Dale, +who loves fact, was not drawn into a theological disputation. + +"Do you know, I had a deuce of a shock when I came into Lola's this +afternoon?" he cried irrelevantly, with a loud laugh. "I thought--it was +a damnable and idiotic thing to come into my head--but I couldn't help +thinking you had cut me out! I wanted to tell you. You must forgive me +for being such an ass. And I want to thank you for being so good to her +while I was away. She has been telling me. You like her, don't you? I +knew you would. No one can help it. Besides being other things, she's is +such a good sort, isn't she?" + +I admitted her many excellencies, while he walked about the room. + +"By Jove!" he cried, coming to a halt. "I've got a grand idea. My little +plan has succeeded so well with you that I've a good mind to try it on +my mother." + +"What on earth do you mean?" I asked. + +"Why shouldn't I take the bull by the horns and bring my mother and Lola +together?" + +I gasped. "My dear boy," said I. "Do you want to kill me outright? I +can't stand such shocks to the imagination." + +"But it would be grand!" he exclaimed, delighted. "Why shouldn't +mother take a fancy to Lola? You can imagine her roping her in for the +committee!" + +I refused to imagine it for one instant, and I had the greatest +difficulty in the world to persuade him to renounce his maniacal +project. I am going to permit no further complications. + + + +I have been busy for the past day or two setting my house in order. +I start to-morrow for Paris. All my little affairs are comfortably +settled, and I can set out on my little trip to Avernus via Paris +and the habitat of Captain Vauvenarde with a quiet conscience. I have +allayed the anxiety of my sisters, whispered mysterious encouragement +to Maisie Ellerton, held out hopes of her son's emancipation to Lady +Kynnersley, played fairy godmother to various poor and deserving +persons, and brought myself into an enviable condition of glowing +philanthropy. + +To my great relief the Wymington committee have adopted Dale as their +candidate at the by-election. He can scarcely contain himself for joy. +He is like a child who has been told that he shall be taken to the +seaside. I believe he lies awake all night thinking how he will make +things hum. + +The other side have chosen Wilberforce, who unsuccessfully contested the +Ferney division of Wiltshire at the last general election. He is old and +ugly. Dale is young and beautiful. I think Dale will get in. + +I have said good-bye to Lola. The astonishing woman burst into tears +and kissed my hands and said something about my being the arbiter of +her destiny--a Gallic phrase which she must have picked up from Captain +Vauvenarde. Then she buried her face in the bristling neck of Adolphus, +the Chow dog, and declared him to be her last remaining consolation. +Even Anastasius Papadopoulos had ceased to visit her. I uttered words of +comfort. + +"I have left you Dale at any rate." + +She smiled enigmatically through her tears. + +"I'm not ungrateful. I don't despise the crumbs." + +Which remark, now that I come to think of it, was not flattering to my +young friend. + +But what is the use of thinking of it? My fire is burning low. It is +time I ended this portion of my "Rule and Example of Eumoiriety," which, +I fear, has not followed the philosophic line I originally intended. + +The die is cast. My things are packed. Rogers, who likes his British +beef and comforts, is resigned to the prospect of Continental travel, +and has gone to bed hours ago. There is no more soda water in the +siphon. I must go to bed. + +Paris to-morrow. + + + +CHAPTER X + +"Ay!" says Touchstone; "now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was +at home I was in a better place." + +Now am I in Algiers; the more fool I; et cetera, et cetera. + +It is true that from my bedroom window in the Albany I cannot see +the moon silvering the Mediterranean, or hear the soft swish of +pepper-trees; it is true that oranges and eucalyptus do not flourish +in the Albany Court-yard as they do in this hotel garden at Mustapha +Superieur; it is true that the blue African sky and sunshine are more +agreeable than Piccadilly fogs; but, after all, his own kennel is +best for a dying dog, and his own familiar surroundings best for his +declining hours. Again, Touchstone had not the faintest idea what he was +going to do in the Forest of Arden, and I was equally ignorant of what +would befall when I landed at Algiers. He was bound on a fool adventure, +and so was I. He preferred the easy way of home, and so do I. I have +always loved Touchstone, but I have never thoroughly understood him till +now. + +It rained persistently in Paris. It rained as I drove from the Gare du +Nord to my hotel. It rained all night. It rained all the day I spent +there and it rained as I drove from my hotel to the Gare de Lyon. +A cheery newspaper informed me that there were torrential rains at +Marseilles. I mentioned this to Rogers, who tried to console me by +reminding me that we were only staying at Marseilles for a few hours. + +"That has nothing to do with it," said I. "At Marseilles I always eat +bouillabaisse on the quay. Fancy eating bouillabaisse in the pouring +rain!" + +As usual, Rogers could not execute the imaginative exercise I +prescribed; so he strapped my hold-all with an extra jerk. + +Now, when homespun London is wet and muddy, no one minds very much. +But when silken Paris lies bedraggled with rain and mud, she is the +forlornest thing under the sky. She is a hollow-eyed pale city, the +rouge is washed from her cheeks, her hair hangs dank and dishevelled, +in her aspect is desolation, and moaning is in her voice. I have a +Sultanesque feeling with regard to Paris. So long as she is amusing and +gay I love her. I adore her mirth, her chatter, her charming ways. But +when she has the toothache and snivels, she bores me to death. I lose +all interest in her. I want to clap my hands for my slaves, in order to +bid them bring me in something less dismal in the way of fair cities. + +I drove to the Rue Saint-Dominique and handed in my card and letter +of introduction at the _Ministere de la Guerre_. I was received by +the official in charge of the _Bureau des Renseignements_ with bland +politeness tempered with suspicion that I might be taking a mental +photograph of the office furniture in order to betray its secret to +a foreign government. After many comings and goings of orderlies +and underlings, he told me very little in complicated and reluctant +language. Captain Vauvenarde had resigned his commission in the +Chasseurs d'Afrique two years ago. At the present moment the Bureau had +no information to give as to his domicile. + +"Have you no suggestion, Monsieur, to offer?" I asked, "whereby I may +obtain this essential information concerning Captain Vauvenarde?" + +"His old comrades in the regiment might know, Monsieur." + +"And the regiment?" + +He opened the _Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise_, just as I might +have done myself, and said: + +"There are six regiments. One is at Blidah, another at Tlemcen, another +at Constantine, another at Tunis, another at Algiers, and another at +Mascara." + +"To which regiment, then, did Captain Vauvenarde belong?" I inquired. + +He referred to one of the dossiers that the orderlies had brought him. + +"The 3rd, Monsieur." + +"I should get information, then, from Tlemcen?" + +"Evidently, Monsieur." + +I thanked him and withdrew, to his obvious relief. Seekers after +knowledge are unpopular even in organisations so far removed from the +Circumlocution Office as the French _Ministere de la Guerre_. However, +he had put me on the trail of my man. + +During my homeward drive through the rain I reflected. I might, of +course, write to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment at Tlemcen, +and wait for his reply. But even if he answered by return of post, I +should have to remain in Paris for nearly a week. + +"That," said I, wiping from my face half a teacupful of liquid mud +which had squirted in through the cab window--"that I'll never do. I'll +proceed at once to Algiers. If I can get no news of him there, I'll go +to Tlemcen myself. In all probability I shall learn that he is residing +here in Paris, a stone's throw from the Madeleine." + +So I started for Algiers. The next morning, before the sailing of the +_Marechal Bugeaud_, one of the quaint churns styled a steamship by the +vanity of the French Company which undertakes to convey respectable folk +across the Mediterranean, I ate my bouillabaisse below an awning on the +sunny quay at Marseilles. The torrential rains had ceased. I advised +Rogers to take equivalent sustenance, as no lunch is provided on day of +sailing by the Compagnie Generale Transatlantique. I caught sight of him +in a dark corner of the restaurant--he is too British to eat in the +open air on the terrace, or perhaps too modest to have his meal in +my presence--struggling grimly with a beefsteak, and, as he is a +teetotaller, with an unimaginable, horrific liquid which he poured out +from a vessel vaguely resembling a teapot. + +My meal over, and having nearly an hour to spare, I paid my bill, rose +and turned the corner of the quay into the Cannebiere, thinking to have +my coffee at one of the cafes in that thoroughfare of which the natives +say that, if Paris had a Cannebiere, it would be a little Marseilles. I +suppose for the Marseillais there is a magic in the sonorous name; for, +after all, it is but a commonplace street of shops running from the +quays into the heart of the town. It is also deformed by tramcars. I +strolled leisurely up, thinking of the many swans that were geese, and +Paradises that were building-plots, and heroes that were dummies, and +solidities that were shadows, in short, enjoying a gentle post-prandial +mood, when my eyes suddenly fell on a scene which brought me down from +such realities to the realm of the fantastic. There, a few yards in +front of me, at the outer edge of the terrace of a cafe, clad in +his eternal silk hat, frock coat, and yellow gloves, sat Professor +Anastasius Papadopoulos in earnest conversation with a seedy stranger of +repellent mien. The latter was clean-shaven and had a broken nose, +and wore a little round, soft felt hat. The dwarf was facing me. As +he caught sight of me a smile of welcome overspread his Napoleonic +features. He rose, awaited my approach, and, bareheaded, made his usual +sweeping bow, which he concluded by resting his silk hat on the pit of +his stomach. I lifted my hat politely and would have passed on, but he +stood in my path. I extended my hand. He took it after the manner of a +provincial mayor receiving royalty. + +"_Couvrez-vous, Monsieur, je vous en prie_," said I. + +He covered his head. "Monsieur," said he, "I beseech you to be seated, +and do me the honour of joining me in the coffee and excellent cognac of +this establishment." + +"Willingly," said I, mindful of Lola's tale of the long knife which he +carried concealed about his person. + +"Permit me to present my friend Monsieur Achille Saupiquet--Monsieur de +Gex, a great English statesman and a friend of that _gnadigsten Engel_, +Madame Lola Brandt." + +Monsieur Saupiquet and I saluted each other formally. I took a seat. +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos moved a bundle of papers tied up with +pink ribbon from in front of me, and ordered coffee and cognac. + +"Monsieur Saupiquet also knows Madame Brandt," he explained. + +"_Bien sur_," said Monsieur Saupiquet. "She owes me fifteen sous." + +Papadopoulos turned on his sharply. "Will you be silent!" + +The other grumbled beneath his breath. + +"I hope Madame is well," said Papadopoulos. + +I said that she appeared so, when last I had the pleasure of seeing her. +The dwarf turned to his friend. + +"Monsieur has also done my cats the honour of attending a rehearsal. +He has seen Hephaestus, and his tears have dropped in sympathy over the +irreparable loss of my beautiful Santa Bianca." + +"I hope the talented survivors," said I, "are enjoying their usual +health." + +"My daily bulletin from my pupil and assistant, Quast, contains +excellent reports. _Prosit_, Signore." + +It was only when I found myself at the table with the dwarf and his +broken-nosed friend that I collected my wits sufficiently to realise +the probable reason of his presence in Marseilles. The grotesque little +creature had actually kept his ridiculous word. He, too, had come south +in search of the lost Captain Vauvenarde. We were companions in the Fool +Adventure. There was something mediaeval in the combination; something +legendary. Put back the clock a few centuries and there we were, the +Knight and the Dwarf, riding together on our quest, while the Lady for +whose sake we were making idiots of ourselves was twiddling her fair +thumbs in her tower far beyond the seas. + +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos broke upon this pleasing fancy by +remarking again that Monsieur Saupiquet was a friend of Madame Brandt. + +"He was with her at the time of her great bereavement." + +"Bereavement?" I asked forgetfully. + +"Her horse Sultan." + +He whispered the words with solemn reverence. I must confess to being +tired of the horse Sultan and disinclined to treat his loss seriously. + +"Monsieur Saupiquet," said I, "doubtless offered her every consolation." + +"He used to travel with her and look after Sultan's well-being. He was +her----" + +"Her Master of the Horse," I suggested. + +"Precisely. You have the power of using the right word, Monsieur de Gex. +It is a great gift. My good friend Saupiquet is attached to a circus at +present stationed in Toulon. He came over, at my request, to see me--on +affairs of the deepest importance"--he waved the bundle of papers--"the +very deepest importance. _Nicht wahr_, Saupiquet?" + +"_Bien sur_," murmured Saupiquet, who evidently did not count loquacity +among his vices. + +I wondered whether these important affairs concerned the whereabouts of +Captain Vauvenarde; but the dwarf's air of mystery forbade my asking for +his confidence. Besides, what should a groom in a circus know of retired +Captains of Chasseurs? I said: + +"You're a very busy man, Monsieur le Professeur." + +He tapped his domelike forehead. "I am never idle. I carry on here +gigantic combinations. I should have been a lawyer. I can spread nets +that no one sees, and then--pst! I draw the rope and the victim is +in the toils of Anastasius Papadopoulos. _Hast du nicht das bemerkt_, +Saupiquet?" + +"_Bien sur_," said Saupiquet again. He seemed perfectly conversant with +the dwarf's polyglot jargon. + +"To the temperament of the artist," continued the modest Papadopoulos, +"I join the intellect of the man of affairs and the heart of a young +poet. I am always young; yet as you see me here I am thirty-seven years +of age." + +He jumped from his chair and struck an attitude of the Apollo Belvedere. + +"I should never have thought that you were of the same age as a bettered +person like myself," said I. + +"The secret of youth," he rejoined, sitting down again, "is enthusiasm, +the worship of a woman, and intimate association with cats." + +Monsieur Saupiquet received this proposition without a gleam of interest +manifesting itself in his dull blue eyes. His broken nose gave his face +a singularly unintelligent expression. He poured out another glass of +cognac from the graduated carafe in front of him and sipped it slowly. +Then he gazed at me dully, almost for the first time, and said: + +"Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous." + +"And I say that she doesn't!" cried the dwarf fiercely. "I send for him +to discuss matters of the deepest gravity, and he comes talking about +his fifteen sous. I can't get anything out of him, but his fifteen sous. +And the _carissima signora_ doesn't owe it to him. She can't owe it +to him. _Voyons_, Saupiquet, if you don't renounce your miserable +pretensions you will drive me mad, you will make me burst into tears, +you will make me throw you out into the street, and hold you down until +you are run over by a tramcar. You will--you will"--he shook his fist +passionately as he sought for a climactic menace--"you will make me spit +in your eye." + +He dashed his fist down on the marble table so that the glasses jingled. +Saupiquet finished his cognac undisturbed. + +"I say that Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous, and until that is paid, +I do no business." + +The little man grew white with exasperation, and his upper lip +lifted like an angry cat's, showing his teeth. I shrank from meeting +Saupiquet's eye. Hurriedly, I drew a providential handful of coppers +from my pocket. + +"Stop, Herr Professor," said I, eager to prevent the shedding of tears, +blood, or saliva, "I have just remembered. Madame did mention to me an +unaquitted debt in the South, and begged me to settle it for her. I am +delighted to have the opportunity. Will you permit me to act as Madam's +banker?" + +The dwarf at once grew suave and courteous. + +"The word of _carissima signora_ is the word of God," said he. + +I solemnly counted out the fifteen halfpence on the table and pushed +them over to Saupiquet, who swept them up and put them in his pocket. + +"Now we can talk," said he. + +"Make him give you a receipt!" cried Papadopoulos excitedly. "I know +him! He is capable of any treachery where money is concerned. He is +capable of re-demanding the sum from Madame Brandt. He is an ingrate. +And she, Monsieur le Membre du Parlement Anglais, has overwhelmed him +with benefits. Do you know what she did? She gave him the carcass of her +beloved Sultan to dispose of. And he sold it, Monsieur, and he got drunk +on the money." + +The mingled emotions of sorrow at the demise of Sultan, the royal +generosity of Madame Brandt, and the turpitude of his friend Saupiquet, +brought tears to the little man's eyes. Monsieur Saupiquet shrugged his +shoulders unconcernedly. + +"A poor man has to get drunk when he can. It is only the rich who can +get drunk when they like." + +I looked at my watch and rose in a hurry. + +"I'm afraid I must take an unceremonious leave of you, Monsieur le +Professeur." + +"You must wait for the receipt," cried the dwarf. + +"Will you do me the honour of holding it for me until we meet again? +Hi!" The interpellation was addressed to a cabman a few yards away. +"Your conversation has made me neglect the flight of time. I shall only +just catch my boat." + +"Your boat?" + +"I am going to Algiers." + +"Where will you be staying, Monsieur? I ask in no spirit of vulgar +curiosity." + +I raised a protesting hand, and with a smile named my hotel. + +"I arrived here from Algiers yesterday afternoon," he said, "and I +proceed there again to-morrow." + +"I regret," said I, "that you are not coming to-day, so that I could +have the pleasure of your company on the voyage." + +My polite formula seemed to delight Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos +enormously. He made a series of the most complicated bows, to the joy +of the waiters and the passers-by. I shook hands with him and with +the stolid Monsieur Saupiquet, and waving my hat more like an excited +Montenegrin than the most respectable of British valetudinarians, I +drove off to the Quai de la Joliette, where I found an anxious but +dogged Rogers, in the midst of a vociferating crowd, literally holding +the bridge that gave access to the _Marechal Bugeaud_. + +"Thank Heaven, you've come, sir! You almost missed it. I couldn't have +held out another minute." + +I, too, was thankful. If I had missed the boat I should have had to wait +till the next day and crossed in the embarrassing and unrestful company +of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. It is not that I dislike the +little man, or have the Briton's nervous shrinking from being seen +in eccentric society; but I wish to eliminate mediaevalism as far as +possible from my quest. In conjunction with this crazy-headed little +trainer of cats it would become too preposterous even for my light +sardonic humour. I resolved to dismiss him from my mind altogether. + +Yet, in spite of my determination, and in spite of one of Monsieur +Lenotre's fascinating monographs on the French Revolution, on which +I had counted to beguile the tedium of the journey, I could not get +Anastasius Papadopoulos out of my head. He stayed with me the whole of +a storm-tossed night, and all the next morning. He has haunted my +brain ever since. I see him tossing his arms about in fury, while the +broken-nosed Saupiquet makes his monotonous claim for the payment +of sevenpence halfpenny; I hear him speak in broken whispers of the +disastrous quadruped on whose skin and hoofs Saupiquet got drunk. I +see him strutting about and boasting of his intellect. I see him taking +leave of Lola Brandt, and trotting magnificently out of the room bent on +finding Captain Vauvenarde. He haunts my slumbers. I hope to goodness he +will not take to haunting this delectable hotel. + +I wonder, after all, whether there is any method in his madness--for mad +he is, as mad as can be. Why does he come backwards and forwards between +Algiers and Marseilles? What has Saupiquet to do with his quest? What +revelation was he about to make on the payment of his fifteen sous? +It is all so grotesque, so out of relation with ordinary life. I feel +inclined to go up to the retired Colonels and elderly maiden ladies, who +seem to form the majority of my fellow-guests, and pinch them and ask +them whether they are real, or, like Papadopoulos and Saupiquet, the +gentler creatures of a nightmare. + +Well, I have written to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment of +Chasseurs at Tlemcen, which is away down by the Morocco frontier. I have +also written to Lola Brandt. I seem to miss her as much as any of the +friends I have left behind me in England. I cannot help the absurd fancy +that her rich vitality helps me along. I have not been feeling quite +so robust as I did when I saw her daily. And twinges are coming more +frequently. I don't think that rolling about in the Mediterranean on +board the _Marechal Bugeaud_ is good for little pains inside. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +When I began this autobiographical sketch of the last few weeks of my +existence, I had conceived, as I have already said, the notion of making +it chiefly a guide to conduct for my young disciple, Dale Kynnersley. +Not only was it to explain to him clearly the motives which led to my +taking any particular line of action with regard to his affairs, and so +enable me to escape whatever blame he might, through misunderstanding, +be disposed to cast on me, but also to elevate his mind, stimulate his +ambitions, and improve his morals. It was to be a Manual of Eumoiriety. +It was to be sweetened with philosophic reflections and adorned with +allusions to the lives of the great masters of their destiny who have +passed away. It was to have been a pretty little work after the manner +of Montaigne, with the exception that it ran of its own accord into +narrative form. But I am afraid Lola Brandt has interposed herself +between me and my design. She had brought me down from the serene +philosophic plane where I could think and observe human happenings and +analyse them and present them in their true aspect to my young friend. +She has set me down in the thick of events--and not events such as +the smiling philosopher is in the habit of dealing with, but lunatic, +fantastic occurrences with which no system of philosophy invented by man +is capable of grappling. I can just keep my head, that is all, and note +down what happens more or less day by day, so that when the doings of +dwarfs and captains, and horse-tamers and youthful Members of Parliament +concern me no more, Dale Kynnersley can have a bald but veracious +statement of fact. And as I have before mentioned, he loves facts, just +as a bear loves honey. + +I passed a quiet day or two in my hotel garden, among the sweet-peas, +and the roses, and the geraniums. There were little shady summer-houses +where one could sit and dream, and watch the blue sky and the palms and +the feathery pepper trees drooping with their coral berries, and the +golden orange-trees and the wisteria and the great gorgeous splash of +purple bougainvillea above the Moorish arches of the hotel. There were +mild little walks in the eucalyptus woods behind, where one went through +acanthus and wild absinthe, and here and there as the path wound, the +great blue bay came into view, and far away the snow-capped peaks of the +Atlas. There were warmth and sunshine, and the unexciting prattle of +the retired Colonels and maiden ladies. There was a hotel library filled +with archaic fiction. I took out Ainsworth's "Tower of London," and +passed a happy morning in the sun renewing the thrills of my childhood. +I began to forget the outer world in my enchanted garden, like a knight +in the Forest of Broceliande. + +Then came the letter from Tlemcen. The Lieutenant-Colonel commanding +the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs d'Afrique had received my honoured +communication but regretted to say that he, together with all the +officers of the regiment, had severed their connection with Captain +Vauvenarde, and that they were ignorant of his present address. + +This was absurd. A man does not resign from his regiment and within +a year or two disappear like a ghost from the ken of every one of +his brother officers. I read the letter again. Did the severance of +connection mean the casting out of a black sheep from their midst? +I came to the conclusion that it did. They had washed their hands of +Captain Vauvenarde, and desired to hear nothing of him in the future. + +So I awoke from my lethargy, and springing up sent not for my shield and +spear, but for an "Indicateur des Chemins de Fer." I would go to Tlemcen +and get to the bottom of it. I searched the time-table and found two +trains, one starting from Algiers at nine-forty at night and getting +into Tlemcen at noon next day, and one leaving at six-fifty in the +morning and arriving at half-past ten at night. I groaned aloud. The +dealing unto oneself a happy life and portion did not include abominable +train journeys like these. I was trying to decide whether I should +travel all night or all day when the Arab chasseur of the hotel brought +me a telegram. I opened it. It ran: + + +"Starting for Algiers. Meet me.--LOLA." + + +It was despatched that morning from Victoria Station. I gazed at it +stupidly. Why in the world was Lola Brandt coming to join me in Algiers? +If she had wanted to do her husband hunting on her own account, why had +she put me to the inconvenience of my journey? Her action could not have +been determined by my letter about Anastasius Papadopoulos, as a short +calculation proved that it could not have reached her. I wandered round +and round the garden paths vainly seeking for the motive. Was it escape +from Dale? Had she, womanlike, taken the step which she was so anxious +to avoid--and in order to avoid taking which all this bother had +arisen--and given the boy his dismissal? If so, why had she not gone to +Paris or St. Petersburg or Terra del Fuego? Why Algiers? Dale abandoned +outright, the necessity for finding her husband had disappeared. Perhaps +she was coming to request me, on that account, to give up the search. +But why travel across seas and continents when a telegram or a letter +would have sufficed? She was coming at any rate; and as she gave no date +I presumed that she would travel straight through and arrive in about +forty-eight hours. This reflection caused a gleam of sunshine to +traverse my gloom. I was not physically capable of performing the +journey to Tlemcen and back before her arrival. I could, therefore, +dream among the roses of the garden for another couple of days. And when +she came, perhaps she would like to go to Tlemcen herself and try +the effect of her woman's fascinations on the Lieutenant-Colonel and +officers of the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs d'Afrique. + +In any case, her sudden departure argued well for Dale's liberation. +If the rupture had occurred I was quite contented. That is what I had +wished to accomplish. It only remained now to return to London, while +breath yet stayed in my body, and lead him diplomatically to the feet of +Maisie Ellerton. Then I would have ended my eumoirous task, and my last +happy words would be a paternal benediction. But all the same, I had set +forth to find this confounded captain and did not want to be hindered. +The sportsman's instinct which, in my robust youth, had led me to crawl +miles on my belly over wet heather in order to get a shot at a stag, I +found, somewhat to my alarm, was urging me on this chase after Captain +Vauvenarde. He was my quarry. I resented interference. Deer-stalking +then, and man-stalking now, I wanted no petticoats in the party. I +worked myself up into an absurd state of irritability. Why was she +coming to spoil the sport? I had arranged to track her husband down, +reason with him, work on his feelings, telegraph for his wife, and in +an affecting interview throw them into each other's arms. Now, goodness +knows what would happen. Certainly not my beautifully conceived _coup de +theatre_. + +"And she has the impertinence," I cried in my wrath, "to sign herself +'Lola'! As if I ever called her, or could ever be in a position to call +her 'Lola'! I should like to know," I exclaimed, hurling the "Indicateur +des Chemins de Fer" on to the seat of a summer-house, built after the +manner of a little Greek temple, "I should like to know what the deuce +she means by it!" + +"Hallo! Hallo! What the devil's the matter?" cried a voice; and I +found I had disturbed from his slumbers an unnoticed Colonel of British +Cavalry. + +"A thousand pardons!" said I. "I thought I was alone, and gave vent to +the feelings of the moment." + +Colonel Bunnion stretched himself and joined me. + +"That's the worst of this place," he said. "It's so liverish. One lolls +about and sleeps all day long, and one's liver gets like a Strasburg +goose's and plays Old Harry with one's temper. Why one should come here +when there are pheasants to be shot in England, I don't know." + +"Neither your liver nor your temper seem to be much affected, Colonel," +said I, "for you've been violently awakened from a sweet sleep and are +in a most amiable frame of mind." + +He laughed, suggested exercise, the Briton's panacea for all ills, and +took me for a walk. When we returned at dusk, and after I had had tea +before the fire (for December evenings in Algiers are chilly) in one of +the pretty Moorish alcoves of the lounge, my good humour was restored. I +viewed our pursuit of Captain Vauvenarde in its right aspect--that of +a veritable Snark-Hunt of which I was the Bellman--and the name "Lola" +curled itself round my heart with the same grateful sensation of comfort +as the warm China tea. After all, it was only as Lola that I thought +of her. The name fitted her personality, which Brandt did not. Out +of "Brandt" I defy you to get any curvilinear suggestion. I reflected +dreamily that it would be pleasant to walk with her among the roses in +the sunshine and to drink tea with her in dusky Moorish alcoves. I also +thought, with an enjoyable spice of malice, of what the retired Colonels +and elderly maiden ladies would have to say about Lola when she arrived. +They should have a gorgeous time. + +So light-hearted did I become that, the next evening, while I was +dressing for dinner, I did not frown when the chasseur brought me up the +huge trilingual visiting-card of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. + +"Show the gentleman up," said I. + +Rogers handed me my black tie and began to gather together discarded +garments so as to make the room tidy for the visitor. It was a +comfortable bed-sitting-room, with the bed in an alcove and a tiny +dressing-room attached. A wood fire burned on the hearth on each side of +which was an armchair. Presently there came a knock at the door. Rogers +opened it and admitted Papadopoulos, who forthwith began to execute his +usual manoeuvres of salutation. Rogers stood staring and open-mouthed +at the apparition. It took all his professional training in +imperturbability to enable him to make a decent exit. This increased my +good humour. I grasped the dwarf's hand. + +"My dear Professor, I am delighted to see you. Pray excuse my receiving +you in this unceremonious fashion, and sit down by the fire." + +I hastily completed my toilette by stuffing my watch, letter-case, loose +change and handkerchief into my pockets, and took a seat opposite him. + +"It is I," said he politely, "who must apologise for this untimely call. +I have wanted to pay my respects to you since I arrived in Algiers, but +till now I have had no opportunity." + +"Allow me," said I, "to disembarrass you of your hat." + +I took the high-crowned, flat-brimmed thing which he was nursing +somewhat nervously on his knees, and put it on the table. He murmured +that I was "_Sehr aimable_." + +"And the charming Monsieur Saupiquet, how is he?" I asked. + +He drew out his gilt-embossed pocket-book, and from it extracted an +envelope. + +"This," said he, handing it to me, "is the receipt. I have to thank you +again for regulating the debt, as it has enabled me to transact with +Monsieur Saupiquet the business on which I summoned him from Toulon. He +is the most obstinate, pig-headed camel that ever lived, and I believe +he has returned to Toulon in the best of health. No, thank you," he +added, refusing my offer of cigarettes, "I don't smoke. It disturbs +the perfect adjustment of my nerves, and so imperils my gigantic +combinations. It is also distasteful to my cats." + +"You must miss them greatly," said I. + +He sighed--then his face lit up with inspiration. + +"Ah, signor! What would one not sacrifice for an idea, for duty, for +honour, for the happiness of those we love?" + +"Those are sentiments, Monsieur Papadopoulos," I remarked, "which do you +infinite credit." + +"And, therefore, I express them, sir," he replied, "to show you what +manner of man I am." He paused for a moment; then bending forward, his +hands on his little knees--he was sitting far back in the chair and his +legs were dangling like a child's--he regarded me intently. + +"Would you be equally chivalrous for the sake of an idea?" + +I replied that I hoped I should conduct myself _en galant homme_ in any +circumstances. + +"I knew it," he cried. "My intuition is never wrong. An English +statesman is as fearless as Agamemnon, and as wise as Nestor. Have you +your evening free?" + +"Yes," I replied wonderingly. + +"Would you care to devote it to a perilous adventure? Not so perilous, +for I"--he thumped his chest--"will be there. But still _molto +gefahrlich_." + +His black eyes held mine in burning intensity. So as to hide a smile I +lit a cigarette. I know not what little imp in motley possessed me that +evening. He seemed to hit me over the head with his bladder, and counsel +me to play the fool like himself, for once in my life before I died. I +could almost hear him speaking. + +"Surely a crazy dwarf out of a nightmare is more entertaining company +than decayed Colonels of British Cavalry." + +I blew two or three puffs of my cigarette, and met my guest's eager +gaze. + +"I shall be happy to put myself at your disposal," said I. "May I ask, +without indiscretion--?" + +"No, no," he interrupted, "don't ask. Secrecy is part of the gigantic +combination. _En galant homme_, I require of you--confidence." + +With an irresistible touch of mockery I said: "Professor Papadopoulos, +I will be happy to follow you blindfold to the lair of whatever +fire-breathing dragon you may want me to help you destroy." + +He rose and grasped his hat and made me a profound bow. + +"You will not find me wanting in courage, Monsieur. There is +another small favour I would ask of you. Will you bring some of your +visiting-cards?" + +"With pleasure," said I. + +At that moment the gong clanged loudly through the hotel. + +"It is your dinner-hour," said the dwarf. "I depart. Our rendezvous--" + +"Let us have no rendezvous, my dear Professor," I interposed. "What more +simple than that you should do me the pleasure of dining with me here? +We can thus fortify ourselves with food and drink for our adventure, and +we can start on it comfortably together whenever it seems good to you." + +The little man put his head on one side and looked at me in an odd way. + +"Do you mean," he asked in a softened voice, "that you ask me to dine +with you in the midst of your aristocratic compatriots?" + +"Why, evidently," said I, baffled. "It's only an ordinary table d'hote +dinner." + +To my astonishment, tears actually spurted out of the eyes of the +amazing little creature. He took my hand and before I knew what he was +going to do with it he had touched it with his lips. + +"My dear Professor!" I cried in dismay. + +He put up a pudgy hand, and said with great dignity: + +"I cannot dine with you, Monsieur de Gex. But I thank you from my heart +for your generous kindness. I shall never forget it to my dying day." + +"But----" + +He would listen to no protests. "If you will do me the honour of coming +at nine o'clock to the Cafe de Bordeaux, at the corner of the Place +du Gouvernement, I shall be there. _Auf wiedersehen_, Monsieur, and a +thousand thanks. I beg you as a favour not to accompany me. I couldn't +bear it." + +And, drawing a great white handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his +eyes, blew his nose, and disappeared like a flash through the door which +I held open for him. + +I went down to dinner in a chastened mood. The little man had not shown +me before the pathetic side of the freak's life. By asking him to dinner +as if he were normal I had earned his eternal gratitude. And yet, with +a smile, which I trust the Recording Angel when he makes up my final +balance-sheet of good and evil will not ascribe to an unfeeling heart, +I could not help formulating the hope that his gratitude would not be +shown by presents of China fowls sitting on eggs, Tyrolese chalets and +bottles with ladders and little men inside them. I did not feel within +me the wide charity of Lola Brandt; and I could not repress a smile, as +I ate my solitary meal, at the perils of the adventure to which I was +invited. I had no doubt that it bore the same relation to danger as +Monsieur Saupiquet's sevenpence-halfpenny bore to a serious debt. + +Colonel Bunnion, a genial little red-faced man, with bulgy eyes and +a moustache too big for his body, who sat, also solitary, at the next +table to mine, suddenly began to utter words which I discovered were +addressed to me. + +"Most amazing thing happened to me as I was coming down to dinner. Just +got out of the corridor to the foot of the stairs, when down rushed +something about three foot nothing in a devil of a top-hat and butted me +full in the pit of the stomach, and bounded off like a football. When I +picked it up I found it was a man--give you my word--it was a man. About +so high. Gave me quite a turn." + +"That," said I, with a smile, "was my friend Professor Anastasius +Papadopoulos." + +"A friend of yours?" + +"He had just been calling on me." + +"Then I wish you'd entreat him not to go downstairs like a six-inch +shell. I'll have a bruise to-morrow where the crown of his hat caught me +as big as a soup-plate." + +I offered the cheerily indignant warrior apologies for my friend's +parabolic method of descent, and suggested Elliman's Embrocation. + +"The most extraordinary part of it," he interrupted, "was that when I +picked him up he was weeping like anything. What was he crying about?" + +"He is a sensitive creature," said I, "and he doesn't come upon the pit +of the stomach of a Colonel of British Cavalry every day in the week." + +He sniffed uncertainly at the remark for a second or two and then +broke into a laugh and asked me to play bridge after dinner. On the two +preceding evenings he and I had attempted to cheer, in this manner, +the desolation of a couple of the elderly maiden ladies. But I may +say, parenthetically, that as he played bridge as if he were leading a +cavalry charge according to a text-book on tactics, and as I play card +games in a soft, mental twilight, and as the two ladies were very keen +bridge players indeed, I had great doubts as to the success of our +attempts. + +"I'm sorry," said I, "but I'm going down into the town to-night." + +"Theatre? If so, I'll go with you." + +The gallant gentleman was always at a loose end. Unless he could +persuade another human being to do something with him--no matter +what--he would joyfully have played cat's cradle with me by the hour--he +sat in awful boredom meditating on his liver. + +"I'm not going to the theatre," I said, "and I wish I could ask you to +accompany me on my adventure." + +The Colonel raised his eyebrows. I laughed. + +"I'm not going to twang guitars under balconies." + +The Colonel reddened and swore he had never thought of such a thing. He +was a perjured villain; but I did not tell him so. + +"In what my adventure will consist I can't say," I remarked. + +"If you're going to fool about Algiers at night you'd better carry a +revolver." + +I told him I did not possess such deadly weapons. He offered to lend +me one. The two Misses Bostock from South Shields, who sat at the table +within earshot and had been following our conversation, manifested signs +of excited interest. + +"I shall be quite protected," said I, "by the dynamic qualities of +your acquaintance, Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos, with whom I have +promised to spend the evening." + +"You had better have the revolver," said the Colonel. And so bent was he +on the point, that after dinner he came to me in the lounge and laid a +loaded six-shooter beside my coffee-cup. The younger Miss Bostock grew +pale. It looked an ugly, cumbrous, devastating weapon. + +"But, my dear Colonel," I protested, "it's against the law to carry +fire-arms." + +"Law--what law?" + +"Why the law of France," said I. + +This staggered him. The fact of there being decent laws in foreign parts +has staggered many an honest Briton. He counselled a damnation of the +law, and finally, in order to humour him, I allowed him to thrust the +uncomfortable thing into my hip-pocket. + +"Colonel," said I, when I took leave of him an hour later, "I have armed +myself out of pure altruism. I shan't be able to sit down in peace and +comfort for the rest of the evening. Should I accidentally do so, my +blood will be on your head." + + + +CHAPTER XII + +The tram that passes the hotel gates took me into the town and dropped +me at the Place du Gouvernement. With its strange fusion of East +and West, its great white-domed mosque flanked by the tall minaret +contrasting with its formal French colonnaded facades, its groupings of +majestic white-robed forms and commonplace figures in caps and hard +felt hats; the mystery of its palm trees, and the crudity of its +flaring electric lights, it gave an impression of unreality, of a modern +contractor's idea of Fairyland, where anything grotesque might assume an +air of normality. The moon shone full in the heavens, and as I crossed +the Place I saw the equestrian statue of the Duke of Orleans silhouetted +against the mosque. The port, to the east, was quiet at this hour, and +the shipping lay dreamily in the moonlight. Far away one could see the +dim outlines of the Kabyle Mountains, and the vague melting of sea and +sky into a near horizon. The undefinable smell of the East was in the +air. + +The Cafe de Bordeaux, which forms an angle of the Place, blazed in front +of me. A few hardy souls, a Zouave or two, an Arab, a bored Englishman +and his wife, and some French inhabitants were sitting outside in the +chilliness. I entered. The cafe was filled with a nondescript crowd, and +the rattle of dominoes rose above the hum of talk. In a corner near the +door I discovered the top of a silk hat projecting above a widely opened +newspaper grasped by two pudgy hands, and I recognised the Professor. + +"Monsieur," said he, when I had taken a seat at his table, "if the +unknown terrors which you are going to confront dismay you, I beg that +you will not consider yourself bound to me." + +"My dear Professor," I replied, "a brave man tastes of death but once." + +He was much delighted at the sentiment, which he took to be original. + +"I shall quote it," said he, "whenever my honour or my courage is called +into question. It is not often that a man has the temerity to do so. Can +I have the honour of offering you a whisky and soda?" + +"Have we time?" I asked. + +"We have time," he said, solemnly consulting his watch. "Things will +ripen." + +"Then," said I, "I shall have much pleasure in drinking to their +maturity." + +While we were drinking our whisky and soda he talked volubly of many +things--his travels, his cats, his own incredible importance in +the cosmos. And as he sat there vapouring about the pathetically +insignificant he looked more like Napoleon III than ever. His eyes had +the same mournful depths, his features the same stamp of fatality. Each +man has his gigantic combinations--perhaps equally important in the eyes +of the High Gods. I was filled with an immense pity for Napoleon III. + +Of the object of the adventure he said nothing. As secrecy seemed to +be a vital element in his fifteen-cent scheme, I showed no embarrassing +curiosity. Indeed, I felt but little, though I was certain that the +adventure was connected with the world-cracking revelations of Monsieur +Saupiquet, and was undertaken in the interest of his beloved lady, Lola +Brandt. But it was like playing at pirates with a child, and my pity +for Napoleon gave place to my pity for my valiant but childish little +friend. + +At last he looked again at his watch. + +"The hour his struck. Let us proceed." + +Instinctively I summoned the waiter, and drew a coin from my pocket; and +when the grown-up person and the small boy hobnob together the former +pays. But Anastasius, with a swift look of protest, anticipated my +intention. I was his guest for the evening. I yielded apologetically, +the score was paid, and we went forth into the moonlight. + +He led me across the Place du Gouvernement and struck straight up the +hill past the Cathedral, and, turning, plunged into a network of narrow +streets, where the poor of all races lived together in amity and evil +odours. Shops chiefly occupied the ground floors; some were the ordinary +humble shops of Europeans; others were caves lit by a smoky lamp, where +Arabs lounged and smoked around the tailors or cobblers squatting at +their work; others were Jewish, with Hebrew inscriptions. There were +dark Arab cafes, noisy Italian wine-shops, butchers' stalls; children of +all ages played and screamed about the precipitous cobble-paved streets; +and the shrill cries of Jewish women, sitting at their doors, rose in +rebuke of husband or offspring. Not many lights appeared through the +shuttered windows of the dark, high houses. Overhead, between two +facades, one saw a strip of paleness which one knew was the moonlit sky. +Conversation with my companion being difficult--the top of his silk hat +just reached my elbow--I strode along in silence, Anastasius trotting by +my side. Many jeers and jests were flung at us as we passed, whereat he +scowled terribly; but no one molested us. I am inclined to think that +Anastasius attributed this to fear of his fierce demeanour. If so, he +was happy, as were the simple souls who flouted; and this reflection +kept my mind serene. + +Presently we turned into a wide and less poverty-stricken street, which +I felt sure we could have reached by a less tortuous and malodorous +path. A few yards down we came to a dark _porte cochere_. The dwarf +halted, crossed, so as to read the number by the gas lamp, and joining +me, said: + +"It is here. Have you your visiting-cards ready?" + +I nodded. We proceeded down the dark entry till we came to a slovenly, +ill-kept glass box lit by a small gas jet, whence emerged a slovenly, +ill-kept man. This was the concierge. Anastasius addressed a remark to +him which I did not catch. + +"_Au fond de la cour, troisieme a gauche_," said the concierge. + +As yet there seemed to be nothing peculiarly perilous about the +adventure. We crossed the cobble-paved courtyard and mounted an +evil-smelling stone staircase, blackened here and there by the +occasional gas jets. On the third landing we halted. Anastasius put up +his hand and gripped mine. + +"Two strong men together," said he, "need fear nothing." + +I confess my only fear was lest the confounded revolver which swung +insecurely in my hip-pocket might go off of its own accord. I did not +mention this to my companion. He raised his hat, wiped his brow, and +rang the bell. + +The door opened about six inches, and a man's dark-moustachioed face +appeared. + +"_Vous desirez, Messieurs_?" + +As I had not the remotest idea what we desired, I let Anastasius be +spokesman. + +"Here is an English milord," said Anastasius boldly, "who would like to +be admitted for the evening to the privileges of the Club." + +"Enter, gentlemen," said the man, who appeared to be the porter. + +We found ourselves in a small vestibule. In front of us was a large +door, on the right a small one, both closed. At a table by the large +door sat a dirty, out-of-elbows raven of a man reading a newspaper. The +latter looked up and addressed me. + +"You wish to enter the Club, Monsieur?" + +I had no particular longing to do so, but I politely answered that such +was my desire. + +"If you will give your visiting-card, I will submit it to the +Secretariat." + +I produced my card; Anastasius thrust a pencil into my hand. + +"Write my name on it, too." + +I obeyed. The raven sent the porter with the card into the room on the +right, and resumed the perusal of his soiled newspaper. I looked at +Anastasius. The little man was quivering with excitement. The porter +returned after a few minutes with a couple of pink oval cards which he +handed to each of us. I glanced at mine. On it was inscribed: _Cercle +Africain d'Alger. Carte de Member Honoraire. Une soiree_. And then there +was a line for the honorary member's signature. The raven man dipped a +pen in the ink-pot in front of him and handed it to me. + +"Will you sign, Messieurs?" + +We executed this formality; he retained the cards, and opening the great +door, said: + +"_Entrez, Messieurs_!" + +The door closed behind us. It was simply a _tripot_, or gambling-den. +And all this solemn farce of Secretariats and _cartes d'entree_ to +obtain admission! It is curious how the bureaucratic instinct is +ingrained in the French character. + +It was a large, ill-ventilated room, blue with cigarette and cigar +smoke. Some thirty men were sitting or standing around a baccarat table +in the centre, and two or three groups hung around _ecarte_ tables in +the corners. A personage who looked like a slightly more prosperous +brother of the raven outside and wore a dinner-jacket, promenaded the +room with the air of one in authority. He scrutinised us carefully from +a distance; then advanced and greeted us politely. + +"You have chosen an excellent evening," said he. "There are a great many +people, and the banks are large." + +He bowed and passed on. A dingy waiter took our hats and coats and hung +them up. Anastasius plucked me by the sleeve. + +"If you don't mind staking a little for the sake of appearances, I shall +be grateful." + +I whispered: "Can you tell me now, my dear Professor, for what reason +you have brought me to this gaming-hell?" + +He looked up at me out of his mournful eyes and murmured, "_Patienza, +lieber Herr_." Then spying a vacant place behind the chairs at the +baccarat table, he darted thither, and I followed in his wake. There +must have been about a couple of hundred louis in the bank, which was +held by a dissipated, middle-aged man who, having once been handsome in +a fleshy way, had run to fat. His black hair, cropped short, stood up +like a shoebrush, and when he leaned back in his chair a roll of flesh +rose above his collar. I disliked the fellow for his unhealthiness, +and for the hard mockery in his puffy eyes. The company seemed fairly +homogeneous in its raffishness, though here and there appeared a thin, +aristocratic face, with grey moustache and pointed beard, and the homely +anxious visage of a small tradesman. But in bulk it looked an ugly, +seedy crowd, with unwashed bodies and unclean souls. I noticed an +Italian or two, and a villainous Englishman with a face like that of a +dilapidated horse. A glance at the table plastered with silver and gold +showed me that they were playing with a five-franc minimum. + +Anastasius drew a handful of louis from his pocket and staked one. I +staked a five-franc piece. The cards were dealt, the banker exposed a +nine, the highest number, and the croupier's flat spoon swept the table. +A murmur arose. The banker was having the luck of Satan. + +"He always protects me, the good fellow," laughed the banker, who had +overheard the remark. + +Again we staked, again the hands were dealt. Our tableau or end of the +table won, the other lost. The croupier threw the coins in payment. I +let my double stake lie, and so did Anastasius. At the next coup we lost +again. The banker stuffed his winnings into his pocket and declared a +_suite_. The bank was put up at auction, and was eventually knocked down +to the same personage for fifty louis. The horse-headed Englishman +cried "_banco_," which means that he would play the banker for the whole +amount. The hands were dealt, the Englishman lost, and the game started +afresh with a hundred louis in the bank. The proceedings began to bore +me. Even if my experience of life had not suggested that scrupulous +fairness and honour were not the guiding principles of such an +assemblage, I should have taken little interest in the game. I am a +great believer in the wholesomeness of compounding for sins you are +inclined to by damning those you have no mind to. It aids the nice +balance of life. And gambling is one of the sins I delight to damn. The +rapid getting of money has never appealed to me, who have always had +sufficient for my moderately epicurean needs, and least of all did it +appeal to me now when I was on the brink of my journey to the land where +French gold and bank notes were not in currency. I repeat, therefore, +that I was bored. + +"If the perils of the adventure don't begin soon, my dear Professor," I +whispered, "I shall go to sleep standing." + +Again he asked for patience and staked a hundred-franc note. At that +moment the man sitting at the table in front of him rose, and the dwarf +slipped swiftly into his seat. He won his hundred francs and made +the same stake again. It was obvious that the little man did not damn +gambling. It was a sin to which he appeared peculiarly inclined. The +true inwardness of the perilous adventure began to dawn on me. He had +come here to make the money wherewith he could further his gigantic +combinations. All this mystery was part of his childish cunning. I +hardly knew whether to box the little creature's ears, to box my own, +or to laugh. I compromised with a smile on the last alternative, and +baccarat being a dreary game to watch, I strolled off to the nearest +_ecarte_ table, and, to justify my presence in the room, backed one of +the players. + +Presently my attention was called to the baccarat table by a noise as +of some dispute, and turning, I saw the gentleman in the dinner-jacket +hurrying to what appeared to be the storm centre, the place where +Anastasius was sitting. Suspecting some minor peril, I left the _ecarte_ +players, and joined the gentleman in the dinner-jacket. It seemed that +the hand, which is played in rotation by those seated at each tableau +or half-table, had come round for the first time to Anastasius, and +objection had been taken to his playing it, on the score of his physical +appearance. The dwarf was protesting vehemently. He had played baccarat +in all the clubs of Europe, and had never received such treatment. It +was infamous, it was insulting. The malcontents of the punt paid +little heed to his remonstrances. They resented the entrusting of their +fortunes to one whose chin barely rose above the level of the table. +The banker lit a cigarette and sat back in his chair with a smile of +mockery. His attitude brought up the superfluous flesh about his chin +and the roll of fat at the back of his neck. With his moustache +_en croc_, and his shoebrush hair, I have rarely beheld a more +sensual-looking desperado. + +"But gentlemen," said he, "I see no objection whatever to Monsieur +playing the hand." + +"Naturally," retorted a voice, "since it would be to your advantage." + +The raven in the dinner-jacket commanded silence. + +"Gentlemen, I decide that, according to the rules of the game, Monsieur +is entitled to play the hand." + +"Bravo!" exclaimed one or two of my friend's supporters. + +"_C'est idiot_!" growled the malcontents. + +"_Messieurs, faites vos jeux_!" cried the croupier. + +The stakes were laid, the banker looked around, estimating the +comparative values of the two tableaux. Anastasius had backed his hand +with a pile of louis. To encourage him, and to conciliate the hostile +punt, I threw down a hundred-franc note. + +"_Les jeux sont faits? Rien ne va plus_." + +The banker dealt, two cards to each tableau, two to himself. Anastasius, +trembling with nervous excitement, stretched out a palsied little fist +towards the cards. He drew them towards him, face downwards, peeped at +them in the most approved manner, and in a husky voice called for an +extra card. + +The card dealt face upwards was a five. The banker turned up his own +cards, a two and a four, making a point of six. Naturally he stood, +Anastasius did nothing. + +"Show your cards--show your cards!" cried several voices. + +He turned over the two cards originally dealt to him. They were a king +and a nine, making the natural nine, the highest point, and he had +actually asked for another card. It was the unforgivable sin. The five +that had been dealt to him brought his point to four. There was a roar +of indignation. Men with violent faces rose and cursed him, and shook +their fists at him. Others clamoured that the coup was ineffective. They +were not going to be at the mercy of an idiot who knew nothing of the +game. The hand must be dealt over again. + +"_Jamais de la vie_!" shouted the banker. + +"_Le coup est bon_!" cried the raven in authority, and the croupier's +spoon hovered over the tableau. But the horse-headed Englishman clutched +the two louis he had staked. He was damned, and a great many other +things, if he would lose his money that way. The raven in the +dinner-jacket darted round, and bending over him, caught him by the +wrist. Two or three others grabbed their stakes, and swore they would +not pay. The banker rose and went to the rescue of his gains. There +was screaming and shouting and struggling and riot indescribable. Those +round about us went on cursing Anastasius, who sat quite still, with +quivering lips, as helpless as a rabbit. The raven tore his way +through the throng around the Englishman and came up to me excited and +dishevelled. + +"It is all your fault, Monsieur," he shrieked, "for introducing into the +club a half-witted creature like that." + +"Yes, it's your fault," cried a low-browed, ugly fellow looking like +a butcher in uneasy circumstances who stood next to me. Suddenly the +avalanche of indignation fell upon my head. Angry, ugly men crowded +round me and began to curse me instead of the dwarf. Cries arose. The +adventure began, indeed, to grow idiotically perilous. I had never been +thrown out of doors in my life. I objected strongly to the idea. It +might possibly hurt my body, and would certainly offend my dignity. I +felt that I could not make my exit through the portals of life with the +urbanity on which I had counted, if, as a preparatory step, I had been +thrown out of a gambling-hell. There were only two things to be done. +Either I must whip out my ridiculous revolver and do some free shooting, +or I must make an appeal to the lower feelings of the assembly. I chose +the latter alternative. With a sudden movement I slipped through the +angry and gesticulating crowd, and leaped on a chair by one of the +deserted _ecarte_ tables. Then I raised a commanding arm, and, in my +best election-meeting voice, I cried: + +"_Messieurs_!" + +The unexpectedness of the manoeuvre caused instant silence. + +"As my friend and myself," I said, "are the cause of this unpleasant +confusion, I shall be most happy to pay the banker the losses of the +tableau." + +And I drew out and brandished my pocket-book, in which, by a special +grace of Providence, there happened to be a considerable sum of money. + +Murmurs of approbation arose. Then the Englishman sang out: + +"But what about the money we would have won, if that little fool had +played the game properly?" + +The remark was received with cheers. + +"That amount, too," said I, "I shall be happy to disburse." + +There was nothing more to be said, as everybody, banker and punt, were +satisfied. The raven in the dinner-jacket came up and informed me that +my proposal solved the difficulty. I besought him to make out the bill +for my little entertainment as quickly as possible. Then I dismounted +from my chair and beckoned to the dwarf, still sitting white and +piteous, to join me. He obeyed like a frightened child who had been +naughty. All his swagger and braggadocio were gone. His bosom heaved +with suppressed sobs. He sat down on the chair I had vacated and buried +his face on the _ecarte_ table. We remained thus aloof from the crowd +who were intent on the calculation at the baccarat table. At last the +raven in the dinner-jacket arrived with a note of the amount. It was +two thousand three hundred francs. I gave him the notes, and, taking +Anastasius by the arm, led him to the door, where the waiter stood with +our hats and coats. Before we could reach it, however, the banker, who +had risen from his seat, crossed the room and addressed me. + +"Monsieur," said he, with an air of high-bred courtesy, "I infinitely +regret this unpleasant affair and I thank you for your perfect +magnanimity." + +I did not suggest that with equal magnanimity he might refund the +forty-six pounds that had found its way from my pocket to his, but I +bowed with stiff politeness, and made my exit with as much dignity as +the attachment to my heels of the crestfallen Anastasius would permit. + +Outside I constituted myself the guide, and took the first turning +downhill, knowing that it would lead to the civilised centre of the +town. The dwarf's roundabout route was characteristic of his tortuous +mind. We walked along for some time without saying anything. I could +not find it in my heart to reproach the little man for the expensiveness +(nearly a hundred pounds) of his perilous adventure, and he seemed too +dazed with shame and humiliation to speak. At last, when we reached, +as I anticipated, the Square de la Republique, I patted him on the +shoulder. + +"Cheer up, my dear Professor," said I. "We both are acquainted with +nobler things than the ins and outs of gaming-hells." + +He reeled to a bench under the palm trees, and bursting into tears, gave +vent to his misery in the most incoherent language ever uttered by man. +I sat beside him and vainly attempted consolation. + +"Ah, how mad I am! Ah, how contemptible! I dare not face my beautiful +cats again. I dare not see the light of the sun. I have betrayed my +trust. Accursed be the cards. I, who had my gigantic combination. It is +all gone. Beautiful lady, forgive me. Generous-hearted friend, forgive +me. I am the most miserable of God's creatures." + +"It is an accident that might happen to any one," I said gently. "You +were nervous. You looked at the cards, you mistook the nine for a ten, +in which case you were right to call for another card." + +"It is not that," he wailed. "It is the spoiling of my combination, on +which I have wasted sleepless nights. A curse on my mad folly. Do you +know who the banker was?" + +"No," said I. + +"He was Captain Vauvenarde, the husband of Madame Brandt." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +You could have knocked me down with a feather. It is a trite metaphor, +I know; but it is none the less excellent. I repeat, therefore, +unblushingly--you could have knocked me down with a feather. I gasped. +The little man wiped his eyes. He was the tearfullest adult I have ever +met, and I once knew an Italian _prima donna_ with a temperament. + +"Captain Vauvenarde? The man with the shoebrush hair and the rolls of +fat at the back of his neck? Are you sure?" + +The dwarf nodded. "I set out from England to find him. I swore to the +_carissima signora_ that I would do so. I have done it," he added, with +a faint return of his self-confidence. + +"Well, I'm damned!" said I, in my native tongue. + +I don't often use strong language; but the occasion warranted it. I +was flabbergasted, bewildered, out-raged, humiliated, delighted, +incredulous, and generally turned topsy-turvy. In conversation one has +no time for so minute an analysis of one's feelings. I therefore summed +them up in the only word. Captain Vauvenarde! The wild goose of my +absurd chase! Found by this Flibbertigibbet of a fellow, while I, Simon +de Gex, erstwhile M.P., was fooling about War Offices and regiments! It +was grotesque. It was monstrous. It ought not to have been allowed. And +yet it saved me a vast amount of trouble. + +"I'm damned!" said I. + +Anastasius had just enough English to understand. I suppose, such is +mortal unregeneracy, that it is the most widely understood word in the +universe. + +"And I," said he, "am eternally beaten. I am trampled under foot and +shall never be able to hold up my head again." + +Whereupon he renewed his lamentations. For some time I listened +patiently, and from his disconnected remarks I gathered that he had gone +to the Cercle Africain in view of his gigantic combinations, but that +the demon of gambling taking possession of him had almost driven them +from his mind. Eventually he had lost control of his nerves, a cloud +had spread over his brain, and he had committed the unspeakable blunder +which led to disaster. + +"To think that I should have tracked him down--for this!" he exclaimed +tragically. + +"What beats me," I cried, "is how the deuce you managed to track him +down. Your magnificent intellect, I suppose"--I spoke gently and not in +open sarcasm--"enabled you to get on the trail." + +He brightened at the compliment. "Yes, that was it. Listen. I came to +Algiers, the last place he was heard of. I go to the cafes. I listen +like a detective to conversation. I creep behind soldiers talking. +I find out nothing. I ask at the shops. They think I am crazy, but +Anastasius Papadopoulos has a brain larger than theirs. I go to my +old friend the secretary of the theatre, where I have exhibited the +marvellous performance of my cats. I say to him, 'When have you a date +for me?' He says, 'Next year.' I make a note of it. We talk. He knows +all Algiers. I say to him, 'What has become of Captain Vauvenarde of the +Chasseurs d'Afrique?' I say it carelessly as if the Captain were an old +friend of mine. The secretary laughs. 'Haven't you heard? The Captain +was chased from the regiment----'" + +"The deuce he was!" I interjected. + +"On account of something," said Anastasius. "The secretary could not +tell what. Perhaps he cheated at cards. The officers said so. + +"'Where is he now?' I ask. 'Why, in Algiers. He is the most famous +gambler in the town. He is every night at the Cercle Africain, and some +people believe that it belongs to him.' My friend the secretary asks me +why I am so anxious to discover Captain Vauvenarde. I do not betray my +secret. When I do not wish to talk I close my lips, and they are sealed +like the tomb. I am the model of discretion. You, Monsieur, with the +high-bred delicacy of the English statesman, have not questioned me +about my combination. I appreciate it. But, if you had, though it broke +my heart, I should not have answered." + +"I am not going to pry into your schemes," I said, "but there are one +or two things I must understand. How do you know the banker was Captain +Vauvenarde?" + +"I saw him several times in Marseilles with the _carissima signora_." + +"Then how was it he did not recognise you to-night?" + +"I was then but an acquaintance of Madame; not her intimate friend, +counsellor, champion, as I am now. I did not have the honour of being +presented to Captain Vauvenarde. I went to-night to make sure of my man, +to play the first card in my gigantic combination--but, alas! But no!" +He rose and thumped his little chest. "I feel my courage coming back. +My will is stiffening into iron. When the _carissima signora_ arrives in +Algiers she will find she has a champion!" + +"How do you know she is coming to Algiers?" I asked startled. + +"As soon as I learned that Captain Vauvenarde was here," he replied +proudly, "I sent her a telegram. 'Husband found; come at once.' I know +she is coming, for she has not answered." + +An idea occurred to me. "Did you sign your name and address on the +telegram?" + +He approached me confidentially as I sat, and wagged a cunning finger. + +"In matters of life and death, never give your name and address." + +As Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos was himself again, and as I began +to sneeze--for the night was chilly--I rose and suggested that we might +adjourn this conference till the morrow. He acquiesced, saying that all +was not lost and that he still had time to mature his combinations. We +crossed the road, and I hailed a cab standing by the Cafe d'Alger. I +offered Anastasius to drive him to his hotel, but he declined politely. +We shook hands. + +"Monsieur," said he, "I have to make my heartfelt apologies for having +caused you so painful, so useless, and so expensive an evening. As for +the last aspect I will repay you." + +"You will do no such thing, Professor," said I. "My evening has, on +the contrary, been particularly useful and instructive. I wouldn't have +missed it for the world." + +And I drove off homewards, glad to be in my own company. + +Here was an imbroglio! The missing husband found and, like most +missing husbands, found to be entirely undesirable. And Lola, obviously +imagining her summons to be from me, was at that moment speeding hither +as fast as the _Marechal Bugeaud_ could carry her. If I had discovered +Captain Vauvenarde instead of Anastasius I would have anathematised +him as the most meddlesome, crazy little marplot that ever looked like +Napoleon the Third. But as the credit of the discovery belonged to him +and not to me, I could only anathematise myself for my dilettanteism in +the capacity of a private inquiry agent. + +I went to bed and slept badly. The ludicrous scenes of the evening +danced before my eyes; the smoke-filled, sordid room, the ignoble faces +round the table, the foolish hullaballoo, the collapse of Anastasius, +my melodramatic intervention, and the ironical courtesy of the fleshy +Captain Vauvenarde. Also, in the small hours of the night, Anastasius's +gigantic combinations assumed a less trivial aspect. What lunatic scheme +was being hatched behind that dome-like brow? His object in taking me to +the club was obvious. He could not have got in save under my protection. +But what he had reckoned upon doing when he got there Heaven and +Anastasius Papadopoulos only knew. I was also worried by the confounded +little pain inside. + +On the following afternoon I went down to meet the steamer from +Marseilles. I more than expected to find the dwarf on the quay, but to +my relief he was not there. I had purposely kept my knowledge of Lola's +movements a secret from him, as I desired as far as possible to conduct +affairs without his crazy intervention. I was not sorry, too, that he +had not availed himself of my proposal to visit me that morning and +continue our conversation of the night before. The grotesque as a +decoration of life is valuable; as the main feature it gets on your +nerves. + +I stood on the sloping stone jetty among the crowd of Arab porters and +Europeans and watched the vessel waddle in. Lola and I, catching sight +of each other at the same time, waved handkerchiefs in an imbecile +manner, and when the vessel came alongside, and during the tedious +process of mooring, we regarded each other with photographic smiles. She +was wearing a squirrel coat and a toque of the same fur, and she looked +more like a splendid wild animal than ever. Something inside me--not the +little pain--but what must have been my heart, throbbed suddenly at her +beauty, and the throb was followed by a sudden sense of shock at the +realisation of my keen pleasure at the sight of her. A wistful radiance +shone in her face as she came down the gangway. + +"Oh, how kind, how good, how splendid of you to meet me!" she cried as +our hands clasped. "I was dreading, dreading, dreading that it might be +some one else." + +"And yet you came straight through," said I, still holding her hand--or, +rather, allowing hers to encircle mine in the familiar grip. + +"Didn't you command me to do so?" + +I could not explain matters to her then and there among the hustle of +passengers and the bustle of porters. Besides, Rogers, who had come down +with the hotel omnibus, was at my side touching his hat. + +"I have ordered you a room and a private sitting-room with a balcony +facing the sea. Put yourself in charge of me and your luggage in charge +of Rogers and dismiss all thoughts of worry from your mind." + +"You are so restful," she laughed as we moved off. + +Then she scanned my face and said falteringly. "How thin and worn you +look! Are you worse?" + +"If you ask me such questions," said I, "I'll leave you with the luggage +in charge of Rogers. I am in resplendent health." + +She murmured that she wished she could believe me, and took my arm as we +walked down the jetty to the waiting cab. + +"It's good to hear your voice again," I said. "It's a lazy voice and +fits in with the lazy South." I pointed to the burnous-enveloped Arabs +sleeping on the parapet. "It's out of place in Cadogan Gardens." + +She laughed her low, rippling laugh. It was music very pleasant to hear +after the somewhat shrill cachinnation of the Misses Bostock of South +Shields. I was so pleased that I gave half a franc to a pestilential +Arab shoeblack. + +"That was nice of you," she said. + +"It was the act of an imbecile," I retorted. "I have now rendered it +impossible for me to enter the town again. How is Dale?" + +She started. "He's well. Busy with his election. I saw him the day +before I left. I didn't tell him I was coming to Algiers. I wrote from +Paris." + +"Telling him the reason?" + +She faced me and met my eyes and said shortly: "No." + +"Oh!" said I. + +This brought us to the cab. We entered and drove away. Then leaning back +and looking straight in front of her, she grasped my wrist and said: + +"Now, my dear friend, tell me all and get it over." + +"My dear Madame Brandt--" I began. + +She interrupted me. "For goodness' sake don't call me that. It makes a +cold shiver run down my back. I'm either Lola to you or nothing." + +"Then, my dear Lola," said I, "the first thing I must tell you is that I +did not send for you." + +"What do you mean? The telegram?" + +"It was sent by Anastasius Papadopoulos." + +"Anastasius?" She bent forward and looked at me. "What is he doing +here?" + +"Heaven knows!" said I. "But what he has done has been to find Captain +Vauvenarde. I am glad he has done that, but I am deeply sorry he sent +you the telegram." + +"Sorry? Why?" + +"Because there was no reason for your coming," I said with unwonted +gravity. "It would have been better if you had stayed in London, and it +will be best if you take the boat back again to-morrow." + +She remained silent for a while. Then she said in a low voice: + +"He won't have me?" + +"He hasn't been asked," I said. "He will, as far as I can command the +situation, never be asked." + +On that I had fully determined; and, when she inquired the reason, I +told her. + +"I proposed that you should reunite yourself with an honourable though +somewhat misguided gentleman. I've had the reverse of pleasure in +meeting Captain Vauvenarde, and I regret to say, though he is still +misguided, he can scarcely be termed honourable. The term 'gentleman' +has still to be accurately defined." + +She made a writhing movement of impatience. + +"Tell me straight out what he's doing in Algiers. You're trying to make +things easy for me. It's the way of your class. It isn't the way of +mine. I'm used to brutality. I like it better. Why did he leave the army +and why is he in Algiers?" + +"If you prefer the direct method, my dear Lola," said I--and the name +came quite trippingly on my tongue--"I'll employ it. Your husband +has apparently been kicked out of the army and is now running a +gambling-hell." + +She took the blow bravely; but it turned her face haggard like a +paroxysm of physical pain. After a few moments' silence, she said: + +"It must have been awful for him. He was a proud man." + +"He is changed," I replied gently. "Pride is too hampering a quality for +a knight of industry to keep in his equipment." + +"Tell me how you met him," she said. + +I rapidly sketched the whole absurd history, from my encounter with +Anastasius Papadopoulos in Marseilles to my parting with him on the +previous night. I softened down, as much as I could, the fleshiness of +Captain Vauvenarde and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck, but I +portrayed the villainous physiognomies of his associates very neatly. I +concluded by repeating my assertion that our project had proved itself +to be abortive. + +"He must be pretty miserable," said Lola. + +"Devil a bit," said I. + +She did not answer, but settled herself more comfortably in the carriage +and relapsed into mournful silence. I, having said my say, lit a +cigarette. Save for the clanging past of an upward or downward tram, +the creeping drive up the hill through the long winding street was very +quiet; and as we mounted higher and left the shops behind, the only +sounds that broke the afternoon stillness were the driver's raucous +admonition to his horses and the wind in the trees by the wayside. At +different points the turns of the road brought to view the panorama of +the town below and the calm sweep of the bay. + +"Exquisite, isn't it?" I said at last, with an indicative wave of the +hand. + +"What's the good of anything being exquisite when you feel mouldy?" + +"It may help to charm away the mouldiness. Beauty is eternal and +mouldiness only temporal. The sun will go on shining and the sea will go +on changing colour long after our pains and joys have vanished from the +world. Nature is pitilessly indifferent to human emotion." + +"If so," she said, her intuition finding the weakness of my slipshod +argument, "how can it touch human mouldiness?" + +"I don't know," said I. "The poets will tell you. All you have to do is +to lie on the breast of the Great Mother and your heartache will go +from you. I've never tried it myself, as I've never been afflicted with +heartache." + +"Is that true?" she asked, womanlike catching at the personal. + +I smiled and nodded. + +"I'm glad on your account," she said sincerely. "It's the very devil of +an ache. I've always had it." + +"Poor Lola," said I, prompted by my acquired instinct of eumoiriety. "I +wish I could cure you." + +"You?" She gave a short little laugh and then turned her head away. + +"I had a very comfortable crossing," she remarked a moment later. + +I gave her into the keeping of the manager of the hotel and did not see +her again until she came down somewhat late for dinner. I met her in +the vestibule. She wore a closely fitting brown dress, which in colour +matched the bronze of her hair and in shape showed off her lithe and +generous figure. + +I thought it my duty to cheer her by a well-deserved compliment. + +"Are you aware," I said, with a low bow, "that you're a remarkably +handsome woman?" + +A perfectly unnecessary light came into her eyes and a superfluous flush +to her cheeks. "If I'm at least that to you, I'm happy," she said. + +"You're that to the dullest vision. Follow the _maitre d'hotel_," +said I, as we entered the _salle a manger_, "and I'll walk behind in +reflected glory." + +We made an effective entrance. I declare there was a perceptible rattle +of soup-spoons laid down by the retired Colonels and maiden ladies as +we passed by. Colonel Bunnion returned my nod of greeting in the most +distracted fashion and gazed at Lola with the frank admiration of +British Cavalry. I felt foolishly proud and exhilarated, and gave her at +my table the seat commanding a view of the room. I then ordered a bottle +of champagne, which I am forbidden to touch. + +"It isn't often that I have the pleasure of dining with you," I said by +way of apology. + +"This is the very first time," she said. + +"And it's not going to be the last," I declared. + +"I thought you were going to ship me back to Marseilles to-morrow." + +She laughed lazily, meeting my eyes. I smiled. + +"It would be inhuman. I allow you a few day's rest." + +Indeed, now she was here I had a curious desire to keep her. I regarded +the failure of my eumoirous little plans with more than satisfaction. +I had done my best. I had found (through the dwarf's agency) Captain +Vauvenarde. I had satisfied myself that he was an outrageous person, +thoroughly disqualified from becoming Lola's husband, and there was +an end of the matter. Meanwhile Fate (again through the agency of +Anastasius) had brought her many hundreds of miles away from Dale and +had moreover brought her to me. I was delighted. I patted Destiny on the +back, and drank his health in excellent Pommery. Lola did not know in +the least what I meant, but she smiled amiably and drank the toast. It +was quite a merry dinner. Lola threw herself into my mood and jested as +if she had never heard of an undesirable husband who had been kicked +out of the French Army. We talked of many things. I described in fuller +detail my adventure with Anastasius and Saupiquet, and we laughed over +the debt of fifteen sous and the elaborate receipt. + +"Anastasius," she said, "is childish in many ways--the doctors have a +name for it." + +"Arrested development." + +"That's it; but he is absolutely cracked on one point--the poisoning of +my horse Sultan. He has reams of paper which he calls the dossier of the +crime. You never saw such a collection of rubbish in your life. I cried +over it. And he is so proud of it, poor wee mite." She laughed suddenly. +"I should love to have seen you hobnobbing with him and Saupiquet." + +"Why?" + +"You're so aristocratic-looking," she did me the embarrassing honour to +explain in her direct fashion. "You're my idea of an English duke." + +"My dear Lola," I replied, "you're quite wrong. The ordinary English +duke is a stout, middle-aged gentleman with a beard, and he generally +wears thick knickerbockers and shocking bad hats." + +"Do you know any?" + +"Two or three," I admitted. + +"And duchesses, too?" + +I again pleaded guilty. In these democratic days, if one is engaged in +public and social affairs one can't help running up against them. It is +their fault, not mine. + +"Do tell me about them," said Lola, with her elbows on the table. + +I told her. + +"And are earls and countesses just the same?" she asked with a +disappointed air. + +"Just the same, only worse. They're so ordinary you can't pick them out +from common misters and missuses." + +Saying this I rose, for we had finished our dessert, and proposed coffee +in the lounge. There we found Colonel Bunnion at so wilful a loose end +that I could not find it in my heart to refuse him an introduction +to Lola. He manifested his delight by lifting the skirt of his +dinner-jacket with his hands and rising on his spurs like a bantam cock. +I left her to him for a moment and went over to say a civil word to the +Misses Bostock of South Shields. I regret to say I noticed a certain +frigidity in their demeanour. The well-conducted man in South Shields +does not go out one night with a revolver tucked away in the pocket of +his dress-suit, and turn up the next evening with a striking-looking +lady with bronze hair. Such goings-on are seen on the stage in South +Shields in melodrama, and they are the goings-on of the villain. In +the eyes of the gentle ladies my reputation was gone. I was trying to +rehabilitate myself when the chasseur brought me a telegram. I asked +permission to open it, and stepped aside. + +The words of the telegram were like a ringing box on the ears. + + +"Tell me immediately why Lola has joined you in Algiers. --KYNNERSLEY." + + +Not "Dale," mark you, as he has signed himself ever since I knew him in +Eton collars, but "Kynnersley." Why has Lola joined you? Why have you +run off with Lola? What's the reason of this treacherous abduction? +Account for yourself immediately. Stand and deliver. I stood there +gaping at the words like an idiot, my blood tingling at the implied +accusation. The peremptoriness of it! The impudence of the boy! The wild +extravagance of the idea! And yet, while my head was reeling with +one buffet a memory arose and gave me another on the other side. I +remembered the preposterous attitude in which Dale had found us when he +rushed from Berlin into Lola's drawing-room. + +I took the confounded telegram into a remote corner of the lounge, like +a dog with a bone, and growled over it for a time until the humour of +the situation turned the growl into a chuckle. Even had I been in sound +health and strength, the idea of running off with Lola would have been +absurd. But for me, in my present eumoirous disposition of mind; for +me, a half-disembodied spirit who had cast all vain and disturbing human +emotions into the mud of Murglebed-on-Sea; for me who had a spirit's +calm disregard for the petty passions and interests of mankind and +walked through the world with no other object than healing a few human +woes; for me who already saw death on the other side of the river and +found serious occupation in exchanging airy badinage with him; for me +with an abominable little pain inside inexorably eating my life out and +wasting me away literally and perceptibly like a shadow and twisting +me up half a dozen times a day in excruciating agony; for me, in this +delectable condition of soul and this deplorable condition of body, to +think of running hundreds of miles from home with--to say the least of +it--so inconvenient a creature as a big, bronze-haired woman, the idea +was inexpressibly and weirdly comic. + +I stepped into the drawing-room close by and drew up a telegram to Dale. + + +"Lady summoned by Papadopoulos on private affairs. Avoid lunacy save for +electioneering purposes.--SIMON." + + +Then I joined Lola and Colonel Bunnion. She was lying back in her +laziest and most pantherine attitude, and she looked up at me as I +approached with eyes full of velvet softness. For the life of me I +could not help feeling glad that they were turned on me and not on Dale +Kynnersley. + +Almost immediately the elder Miss Bostock came up to claim the Colonel +for bridge. He rose reluctantly. + +"I suppose it's no use asking you to make a fourth, Mr. de Gex?" she +asked, after the subacid manner of her kind. + +"I'm afraid not," I replied sweetly. Whereupon she rescued the Colonel +from the syren and left me alone with her. I lit a cigarette and sat by +her side. As she did not stir or speak I asked whether she was tired. + +"Not very. I'm thinking. Do you know you've taught me an awful lot?" + +"I? What can I have taught you?" + +"The way people like yourself look at things. I'm treating Dale +abominably. I didn't realise it before." + +Now why on earth did she bring Dale in just at that moment. + +"Indeed?" said I. + +She nodded her head and said in her languorous voice: + +"He's over head and ears in love with me and thinks I care for him. I +don't. I don't care a brass button for him. I'm a bad influence in his +life, and the sooner I take myself out of it the better. Don't you think +so?" + +"You know my opinions," I said. + +"If I had followed your advice at first," she continued, "we needn't +have had all this commotion. And yet I'm not sorry." + +"What do you propose to do?" I asked. + +"Before deciding, I shall see my husband." + +"You shall do no such thing." + +She smiled. "I shall." + +I protested. Captain Vauvenarde had put himself outside the pale. He was +not fit to associate with decent women. What object could she have in +meeting him? + +"I want to judge for myself," she replied. + +"Judge what? Surely not whether he is eligible as a husband!" + +"Yes," she said. + +"But, my dear Lola," I cried, "the notion is as crazy as any of +Anastasius Papadopoulos's. Of course, as soon as he learns that you're +a rich woman, he'll want to live with you, and use your money for his +gaming-hell." + +"I am going to meet him," she said quietly. + +"I forbid it." + +"You're too late, dear friend. I wrote him a letter before dinner and +sent it to the Cercle Africain by special messenger. I also wrote to +Anastasius. I asked them both to see me to-morrow morning. That's why +I've been so gay this evening." + +At the sight of my blank face she laughed, and with one of her movements +rose from her chair. I rose too. + +"Are you angry with me?" + +"I thought I had walked out of a nightmare," I said. "I find I'm still +in it." + +"But don't be angry with me. It was the only way." + +"The only way to, or out of, what?" I asked, bewildered. + +"Never mind." + +She looked at me with a singular expression in her slumbrous eyes. It +was sad, wistful, soothing, and gave me the idea of a noble woman making +a senseless sacrifice. + +"There is no earthly reason to do this on account of Dale," I protested. + +"Dale has nothing to do with it." + +"Then who has?" + +"Anastasius Papadopoulos," she said with undisguised irony. + +"I beg your pardon," I said rather stiffly, "for appearing to force your +confidence. But as I first put the idea of joining your husband into +your head and have enjoyed your confidence in the matter hitherto, I +thought I might claim certain privileges." + +As she had done before, she laid her hands on my shoulders--we were +alone in the alcove--and looked me in the eyes. + +"Don't make me cry. I'm very near it. And I'm tired to-night, and +I'm going to have a hellish time to-morrow. And I want you to do me a +favour." + +"What is that?" + +"When I'm seeing my husband, I'd like to know that you were within +call--in case I wanted you. One never knows what may happen. You will +come won't you, if I send for you?" + +"I'm always at your service," I said. + +She released my shoulders and grasped my hand. + +"Good-night," she said, abruptly, and rushed swiftly out of the room, +leaving me wondering more than I had ever wondered in my life at the +inscrutable ways of women. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +I am glad I devoted last night and the past hour this morning to +bringing up to date this trivial record, for I have a premonition that +the time is rapidly approaching when I shall no longer have the strength +of will or body to continue it. The little pain has increased in +intensity and frequency the last few days, and though I try to delude +myself into the belief that otherwise I am as strong as ever, I know in +my heart that I am daily growing weaker, daily losing vitality. I shall +soon have to call in a doctor to give me some temporary relief, and +doubtless he will put me to bed, feed me on slops, cut off alcohol, +forbid noise and excitement, and keep me in a drugged, stupefied +condition until I fall asleep, to wake up in the Garden of Prosperpine. +Death is nothing; it is the dying that is such a nuisance. It is going +through so much for so little. It is as bad as the campaign before +a parliamentary election. It offends one's sense of proportion. In a +well-regulated universe there would be no tedious process of decay, +either before or after death. You would go about your daily avocation +unconcerned and unwarned, and then at the moment appointed by an +inscrutable Providence for your dissolution--phew!--and your clothes +would remain standing for a surprised second, and then fall down in +a heap without a particle of you inside them. If we have to die, why +doesn't Providence employ this simple and sensible method? It would +save such a lot of trouble. It would be so clean, so painless, so +picturesque. It would add to the interest of our walks abroad. Fancy +a stout, important policeman vanishing from his uniform--the helmet +falling over the collar, the tunic doubling in at the belt, the knees +giving way, and the unheard, merry laughter of the disenuniformed spirit +winging its way truncheonless into the Empyrean. + +But if you think you are going to get any fun out of dying in the +present inconvenient manner, you are mistaken. Believe one who is +trying. + +I will remain on my feet, however, as long as my will holds out. In this +way I may continue to be of service to my fellow creatures, and procure +for myself a happy lot or portion. Even this morning I have been able to +feel the throb of eumoiriety. A piteous letter came from Latimer, and +a substantial cheque lies on my table ready to be posted. I wonder how +much I have left? So long as it is enough to pay my doctor's bills and +funeral expenses, what does it matter? + + + +The last line of the above was written on December 21st. It is now +January 30th, and I am still alive and able to write. I wish I weren't. +But I will set down as plainly as I can what has happened in the +interval. + +I had just written the last word, seated at my hotel window in the +sunshine, and enjoying, in spite of my uncheerful thoughts, the scents +that rose from the garden, when I heard a knock at my door. At my +invitation to enter, Anastasius Papadopoulos trotted into the room in a +great state of excitement carrying the familiar bunch of papers. He put +his hat on the floor, pitched the papers into the hat, and ran up to me. + +"My dear sir, don't get up, I implore you. And I won't sit down. I have +just seen the ever beautiful and beloved lady." + +I turned my chair away from the table, and faced him as he stood blowing +kisses with one little hand, while the other lay on his heart. In a +flash he struck a new gesture; he folded his arms and scowled. + +"I was with her. She was opening her inmost heart to me. She knows I +am her champion. A servant came up announcing Monsieur Vauvenarde. +She dismissed me. I have come to my patron and friend, the English +statesman. Her husband is with her now." + +I smiled. "Madame Brandt told me that she had asked for an interview." + +"And you allow it? You allow her to contaminate her beautiful presence +with the sight of that traitor, that cheat at cards, that murderer, that +devil? Ah, but I will not have it! I am her champion. I will save her. I +will save you. I will take you both away to Egypt, and surround you with +my beautiful cats, and fan you with peacock's feathers." + +This was sheer crackedness of brain. For the first time I feared for the +little man. When people begin to talk that way they are not allowed to +go about loose. He went on talking and the three languages he used in +his jargon got clotted to the point of unintelligibility. He spoke very +fast and, as far as I could understand, poured abuse on the head of +Captain Vauvenarde, and continued to declare himself Lola's champion +and my devoted friend. He stamped up and down the room in his tightly +buttoned frock-coat from the breastpocket of which peeped the fingers of +his yellow dogskin gloves. At last he stopped, and drawing a chair near +the window perched on it with a little hop like a child. He held out his +hand. + +"Do you believe I am your friend?" + +"I am sure of it, my dear Professor." + +"Then I'll betray a sacred confidence. The _carissima signora_ loves +you. You didn't know it. But she loves you." + +I stared for a moment at the dwarf as if he had been a reasonable being. +Something seemed to click inside my head, like a clogged cog-wheel +that had suddenly freed itself, and my mind went whirling away straight +through the past few weeks. I tried to smile, and I said: + +"You are quite mistaken." + +"Oh, no," he replied, wagging his Napoleonic head. "Anastasius +Papadopoulos is never mistaken. She told me so herself. She wept. She +put her beautiful arms round my neck and sobbed on my shoulder." + +I found myself reproving him gently. "You should not have told me this, +my dear Professor. Such confidences are locked up in the heart of _un +galant homme_, and are not revealed even to his dearest friend." + +But my voice sounded hollow in my own ears, and what he said for the +next few minutes I do not remember. The little man had told the truth to +me, and Lola had told the truth to him. The realisation of it paralysed +me. Why had I been such a fool as not to see it for myself? Memories of +a hundred indications came tumbling one after another into my head--the +forgotten glove, the glances, the changes of mood, the tears when she +learned of my illness, the mysterious words, the abrupt little "You?" of +yesterday. The woman was in love, deeply in love, in love with all the +fervour of her big nature. And I had stood by and wondered what she +meant by this and by that--things that would have been obvious to a +coalheaver. I thought of Dale and I felt miserably guilty, horribly +ashamed. How could I expect him to believe me when I told him that I had +not wittingly stolen her affections from him. And her affections? _Bon +Dieu_! What on earth could I do with them? What is the use of a woman's +love to a dead man? And did I want it even for the tiny remainder of +life? + +Anastasius, perceiving that I paid but scant attention to his +conversation, wriggled off his chair and stood before me with folded +arms. + +"You adore each other with a great passion," he said. "She is my +Madonna, and you are my friend and benefactor. I will be your protection +and defence. I will never let her go away with that infamous, gambling +and murdering scoundrel. My gigantic combinations have matured. I bless +your union." + +He lifted his little arms in benediction. The situation was cruelly +comical. For a moment I hated the mournful-visaged, posturing monkey, +and had a wild desire to throw him out of the window and have done with +him. I rose and, towering over him, was about to lecture him severely on +his impertinent interference, when the sight of his scared face made +me turn away with a laugh. What would be the use of reproaching him? He +would only sit down on the floor and weep. So I paced the room, while he +followed me with his eyes like an uncertain spaniel. + +"Look here, Professor," said I at last. "Now that you've found Captain +Vauvenarde, brought Madame Brandt and him together, and told me that she +is in love with me, don't you think you've done enough? Don't you think +your cats need your attention? Something terrible may be happening to +them. I dreamed last night," I added with desperate mendacity, "that +they were turned into woolly lambs." + +"Monsieur," said the dwarf loftily, "my duty is here. And I care not +whether my cats are turned into the angels of Paradise." + +I groaned. "You are wasting a great deal of money over this affair," I +urged. + +"What is money to my gigantic combinations?" + +"Tell me," I cried with considerable impatience. "What are your +confounded combinations?" + +He began to tremble violently. "I would rather die," said he, "than +betray my secret." + +"It's all some silly nonsense about that wretched horse!" I exclaimed. + +He covered his ears with his hands. "Blasphemy! Blasphemy! Don't utter +it!" + +In another moment he was cowering on his knees before me. + +"You, of all men, mustn't blaspheme. You whom I love like my master. +You whom the divine lady loves. I can't bear it!" He continued to gibber +unintelligibly. + +He was stark mad. There was no question of it. For a moment I +stood irresolute. Then I lifted him to his feet and patted his head +soothingly. + +"Never mind," said I. "I was wrong. It was a beautiful horse. There +never was such a horse in the world. If I had a picture of him I would +hang it up on the wall over my bed." + +"Would you?" he cried joyfully. "Then I will give you one." + +He trotted over to the bundle of papers that reposed in his hat on +the floor, searched through them, and to my dismay handed me a faded, +unmounted, and rather torn and crumpled photograph of the wonderful +horse. + +"There!" said he. + +"I could not rob you of it," I protested. + +"It will be my joy to know that you have it--that it is hanging over +your bed. See--have you a pin? I myself will fix it for you." + +While he was searching my table for pins the chasseur of the hotel came +with a message from Madame Brandt. Would Monsieur come at once to Madame +in her private room? + +"I'll come now," I said. "Professor, you must excuse me." + +"Don't mention it. I shall occupy myself in hanging the picture in the +most artistic way possible." + +So I left him, his mind apparently concentrated on the childish task of +pinning the photograph of the ridiculous horse on my bedroom wall, +and went with the most complicated feelings downstairs and through the +corridors to Lola's apartments. + +She rose to meet me as I entered. + +"It's very kind of you to come," she said in her fluent but Britannic +French. "May I present my husband, Monsieur Vauvenarde." + +Monsieur Vauvenarde and I exchanged bows. I noticed at once that he wore +the Frenchman's costume when he pays a _visite de ceremonie_, frock-coat +and gloves, and that a silk hat lay on the table. I was glad that he +paid her this mark of respect. + +"I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, Monsieur," said he, "in +circumstances somewhat different." + +"I remember perfectly," said I. + +"And your charming but inexperienced little friend--is he well?" + +"He is at present decorating my room with photographs of Madame's late +horse, Sultan," said I. + +He was startled, and gave me a quick, sharp look. I did not notice it +at the time, but I remembered it later. Then he broke into an indulgent +laugh. + +"The poor animal!" He turned to Lola. "How jealous I used to be of him! +And how quickly the time flies. But give yourself the trouble of seating +yourself, Monsieur." + +He motioned me to a chair and sat down. He was a man of polished manner +and had a pleasant voice. I guessed that in the days when he paid court +to Lola, he had been handsome in his dark Norman way, and possessed +considerable fascination. Evil living and sordid passions had coarsened +his features, produced bagginess under the eyes and a shiftiness of +glance. Idleness and an inverted habit of life were responsible for +the nascent paunch and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck. He +suggested the revivified corpse of a fine gentleman that had been +unnaturally swollen. I had disliked him at the Cercle Africain; now I +detested him heartily. The idea of Lola entering the vitiated atmosphere +of his life was inexpressibly repugnant to me. + +Contrary to her habit, Lola sat bolt upright on the stamped-velvet +suite, the palms of her hands pressing the seat on either side of her. +She caught the shade of disgust that swept over my face, and gave me a +quick glance that pleaded for toleration. Her eyes, though bright, were +sunken, like those of a woman who has not slept. + +"Monsieur," said Vauvenarde, "my wife informs me that to your +disinterested friendship is due this most charming reconciliation." + +"Reconciliation?" I echoed. "It was quickly effected." + +"_Mon Dieu_," he said. "I have always longed for the comforts of a home. +My wife has grown tired of a migratory existence. She comes to find +me. I hasten to meet her. There is nothing to keep us apart. The +reconciliation was a matter of a few seconds. I wish to express my +gratitude to you, and, therefore, I ask you to accept my most cordial +thanks." + +"It has always been a pleasure to me," said I very frigidly, "to place +my services at the disposal of Madame Brandt." + +"Vauvenarde, Monsieur," he corrected with a smile. + +"And is Madame Vauvenarde equally satisfied with the--reconciliation?" I +asked. + +"I think Monsieur Vauvenarde is somewhat premature," said Lola, with a +trembling lip. "There were conditions--" + +"A mere question of protocol." He waved an airy hand. + +"I don't know what that is," said Lola. "There are conditions I must +fix, and I thought the advice of my friend, Monsieur de Gex--" + +"Precisely, my dear Lola," he interrupted. "The principle is affirmed. +We are reconciled. I proceed logically. The first thing I do is to thank +Monsieur de Gex--you have a French name, Monsieur, and you pronounce it +English fashion, which is somewhat embarrassing--But no matter. The +next thing is the protocol. We have no possibility of calling a family +council, and therefore, I acceded with pleasure to the intervention +of Monsieur. It is kind of him to burden himself with our unimportant +affairs." + +The irony of his tone belied the suave correctitude of his words. I +detested him more and more. More and more did I realise that the dying +eumoirist is capable of petty human passions. My vanity was being +sacrified. Here was a woman passionately in love with me proposing +to throw herself into another man's arms--it made not a scrap of +difference, in the circumstances, that the man was her husband--and into +the arms of such a man! Having known me to decline--etcetera, etcetera! +How could she face it? And why was she doing it? To save herself from +me, or me from herself? She knew perfectly well that the little pain +inside would precious soon settle that question. Why was she doing it? +I should have thought that the first glance at the puffy reprobate would +have been enough to show her the folly of her idea. However, it was +comforting to learn that she had not surrendered at once. + +"If I am to have the privilege, Monsieur," said I, "of acting as a +family council, perhaps you may forgive my hinting at some of the +conditions that doubtless are in Madame's mind." + +"Proceed, Monsieur," said he. + +"I want to know where I am," said Lola in English. "He took everything +for granted from the first." + +"Are you willing to go back to him?" I asked also in English. + +She met my gaze steadily, and I saw a woman's needless pain at the back +of her eyes. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and said: + +"Under conditions." + +"Monsieur," said I in French, turning to Vauvenarde, "forgive us for +speaking our language." + +"Perfectly," said he, and he smiled meaningly and banteringly at us +both. + +"In the first place, Monsieur, you are aware that Madame has a little +fortune, which does not detract from the charm you have always found in +her. It was left her by her father, who, as you know, tamed lions and +directed a menagerie. I would propose that Madame appointed trustees to +administer this little fortune." + +"There is no necessity, Monsieur," he said. "By the law of France it is +hers to do what she likes with." + +"Precisely," I rejoined. "Trustees would prevent her from doing what she +liked with it. Madame has indeed a head for affairs, but she also has +a woman's heart, which sometimes interferes with a woman's head in the +most disastrous manner." + +"Article No. 1 of the protocol. _Allez toujours_, Monsieur." + +I went on, feeling happier. "The next article treats of a little matter +which I understand has been the cause of differences in the past between +Madame and yourself. Madame, although she has not entered the arena +for some time, has not finally abandoned it." I smiled at the look of +surprise on Lola's face. "An artist is always an artist, Monsieur. She +is willing, however, to renounce it for ever, if you, on your side, will +make quite a small sacrifice." + +"Name it, Monsieur." + +"You have a little passion for baccarat----" + +"Surely, Monsieur," said he blandly, "my wife would not expect me to +give up what is the mere recreation of every clubman." + +"As a recreation pure and simple--she would not insist too much, +but----" I shrugged my shoulders. I flatter myself on being able to do +it with perfect French expressiveness. I caught, to my satisfaction, an +angry gleam in his eye. + +"Do you mean to say, Monsieur, that I play for more than recreation?" + +"How dare I say anything, Monsieur. But Madame is prejudiced against +the Cercle Africain. For a bachelor there is little to be said against +it--but for a married man--you seize the point?" said I. + +"_Bien_, Monsieur," he said, swallowing his wrath. "And Article 3?" + +"Since you have left the army--would it not be better to engage in +some profession--unless your private fortune dispenses you from the +necessity." + +He said nothing but: "Article 4?" + +"It would give Madame comfort to live out of Algiers." + +"_Moi aussi_," he replied rather unexpectedly. "We have the whole of +France to choose from." + +"Would not Madame be happier if she lived out of France, also? She has +always longed for a social position." + +"_Eh, bien_? I can give her one in France." + +"Are you quite sure?" I asked, looking him in the eyes. + +"Monsieur," said he, rising and giving his moustache a swashbuckler +twist upward, "what are you daring to insinuate?" + +I leaned back in my chair and fingered the waxed ends of mine. + +"Nothing, Monsieur; I ask a simple question, which you surely can have +no difficulty in answering." + +"Your questions are the height of indiscretion," he cried angrily. + +"In that case, before we carry this interview further, the Family +Council and Madame would do well to have a private consultation." + +"Monsieur," he cried, completely losing his temper. "I forbid you to use +that tone to me. You are making a mock of me. You are insulting me. I +bore with you long enough to see how much further your insolence would +dare to go. I'm not to have a hand in the administration of my wife's +money? I'm to forsake a plentiful means of livelihood? I'm to become a +commercial traveller? I'm to expatriate myself? I'm to explain, too, +the reasons why I left the army? I would not condescend. Least of all to +you." + +"May I ask why, Monsieur?" + +"_Tonnerre de Dieu_!" He stamped his foot. "Do you take me for a fool? +Here I am--I came at my wife's request, ready to take her back as +my wife, ready to condone everything--yes, Monsieur, as a man of the +world--you think I have no eyes, no understanding--ready to take her off +your hands--" + +I leaped to my feet. + +"Monsieur!" I thundered. + +Lola gave a cry and rushed forward. I pushed her aside, and glared at +him. I was in a furious rage. We glared at each other eye to eye. I +pointed to the door. + +"_Monsieur, sortez_!" + +I went to it and flung it wide. Anastasius Papadopoulos trotted into the +room. + +His entrance was so queer, so unexpected, so anti-climatic, that for the +moment the three of us were thrown off our emotional balance. + +"I have heard all, I have heard all," shrieked the little man. "I know +you for what you are. I am the champion of the _carissima signora_ +and the protector of the English statesman. You are a traitor and +murderer--" + +Vauvenarde lifted his hand in a threatening gesture. + +"Hold your tongue, you little abortion!" he shouted. + +But Anastasius went on screaming and flourishing his bundle of papers. + +"Ask him if he remembers the horse Sultan; ask him if he remembers the +horse Sultan!" + +Lola took him by the shoulders. + +"Anastasius, you must go away from here--to please me. It's my orders." + +But he shook himself free, and the silk hat which he had not removed +fell off in the quick struggle. + +"Ask him if he remembers Saupiquet," he screamed, and then banged the +door. + +A malevolent devil put a sudden idea into my head and prompted speech. + +"_Do_ you remember Saupiquet?" I asked ironically. + +"Monsieur, meddle with your own affairs and let me pass. You shall hear +from me." + +The dwarf planted himself before the door. + +"You shall not pass till you have answered me. Do you remember +Saupiquet? Do you remember the five francs you gave to Saupiquet to let +you into Sultan's stable? Ah! Ha! Ha! You wince. You grow pale. Do you +remember the ball of poison you put down Sultan's throat?" + +Lola started forward with flaming eyes and anguished face. + +"You--you?" she gasped. "You were so ignoble as to do that?" + +"The accursed brute!" shouted Vauvenarde. "Yes, I did it. I wish I had +burned out his entrails." + +Anastasius sprang at him like a tiger cat. I had a quick vision of the +dwarf clinging in the air against the other's bulky form, one hand at +his throat, and then of an incredibly swift flash of steel. The dwarf +dropped off and rolled backwards, revealing something black sticking out +of Vauvenarde's frock-coat--for the second I could not realise what it +was. Then Vauvenarde, with a ghastly face, reeled sideways and collapsed +in a heap on the ground. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Of what happened immediately afterwards I have but a confused memory. I +remember that Lola and I both fell on our knees beside the stabbed man, +and I remember his horrible staring eyes and open mouth. I remember +that, though she was white and shaky, she neither shrieked, went into +hysterics, nor fainted. I remember rushing down to the manager; I +remember running with him breathlessly through obscure passages of +the hotel in search of a doctor who was attending a sick member of the +staff. I remember the rush back, the doctor bending over the body, which +Lola had partially unclothed, and saying: + +"He is dead. The blade has gone straight through his heart." + +And I have in my mind the unforgettable and awful picture of Anastasius +Papadopoulos disregarded in a corner of the room, with his absurd silk +hat on--some reflex impulse had caused him to pick it up and put it on +his head--sitting on the floor amid a welter of documents relating to +the death of the horse Sultan, one of which he was eagerly perusing. + +After this my memory is clear. It was only the first awful shock and +horror of the thing that dazed me. + +The man was dead, said the doctor. He must lie until the police arrived +and drew up the _proces-verbal_. The manager went to telephone to the +police, and while he was gone I told the doctor what had occurred. +Anastasius took no notice of us. Lola, holding her nerves under iron +control, stood bolt upright looking alternately at the doctor and +myself as we spoke. But she did not utter a word. Presently the manager +returned. The alarm had not been given in the hotel. No one knew +anything about the occurrence. Lola went into her bedroom and came back +with a sheet. The manager took it from her and threw it over the dead +man. The doctor stood by Anastasius. The end of a strip of sunlight by +the window just caught the dwarf in his corner. + +"Get up," said the doctor. + +Anastasius, without raising his eyes from his papers, waved him away. + +"I am busy. I am engaged on important papers of identification. He had a +white star on his forehead, and his tail was over a metre long." + +Lola approached him. + +"Anastasius," she said gently. He looked up with a radiant smile. "Put +away those papers." Like a child he obeyed and scrambled to his feet. +Then, seeing the unfamiliar face of the doctor for the first time, he +executed one of his politest and most elaborate bows. The doctor after +looking at him intently for a while, turned to me. + +"Mad. Utterly mad. Apparently he has no consciousness of what he has +done." + +He lured him to the sofa and sat beside him and began to talk in a low +tone of the contents of the papers. Anastasius replied cheerfully, proud +at being noticed by the stranger. The papers referred to a precious +secret, a gigantic combination, which he had spent years in maturing. I +shivered at the sound of his voice, and turned to Lola. + +"This is no place for you. Go into your bedroom till you are wanted." + +I held the door open for her. She put her hands up to her face and +reeled, and I thought she would have fallen; but she roused herself. + +"I don't want to break down--not yet. I shall if I'm left alone--come +and sit with me, for God's sake." + +"Very well," said I. + +She passed me and I followed; but at the door I turned and glanced round +the cheerful, sunny room. There, against the background of blue sky and +tree tops framed by the window, sat Anastasius Papadopoulos, swinging +his little legs and talking bombastically to the tanned and grizzled +doctor, and opposite stood the correctly attired hotel manager in +the attitude in which he habitually surveyed the lay-out of the table +d'hote, keeping watch beside the white-covered shape on the floor. I was +glad to shut the sight from my eyes. We waited silently in the bedroom, +Lola sitting on the bed and hiding her face in the pillows, and I +standing by the window and looking out at the smiling mockery of the +fair earth. An agonising spasm of pain--a _momento mori_--shot through +me and passed away. I thanked God that a few weeks would see the end of +me. I had always enjoyed the comedy of life. It had been to me a thing +of infinite jest. But this stupid, meaningless tragedy was carrying the +joke too far. My fastidiousness revolted at its vulgarity. I no longer +wished to inhabit a world where such jests were possible. . . . I had +never seen a man die before. I was surprised at the swiftness and +the ugliness of it. . . . I suddenly realised that I was smoking a +cigarette, which I was quite unconscious of having lit. I threw it away. +A minute afterwards I felt that if I did not smoke I should go crazy. So +I lit another. . . . The ghastly silliness of the murder! . . . Colonel +Bunnion's loud laugh rose from the terrace below, jarring horribly on +my ears. A long green praying mantis that had apparently mounted on the +bougainvillea against the hotel wall appeared in meditative stateliness +on the window-sill. I picked the insect up absent-mindedly, and began +to play with it. Lola's voice from the bed startled me and caused me to +drop the mantis. She spoke hoarsely. + +"Tell me--what are they going to do with him?" + +I turned round. She had raised a crushed face from the pillows, and +looked at me haggardly. I noticed a carafe of brandy and a siphon by the +bedside. I mixed her a strong dose, and, before replying, made her drink +it. + +"They'll place him under restraint, that's all. He's not responsible for +his actions." + +"He did that once before--I told you--but without the knife--I wish I +could cry--I can't--You don't think it heartless of me--but my brain is +on fire--I shall always see it--I wish to God I had never asked him to +come--Why did I? My God, why did I?--It was my fault--I wanted to see +him--to judge for myself how much of the old Andre was left--there was +good in him once--I thought I might possibly help him--There was nothing +for me to do in the world--Without you any kind of old hell was good +enough--That's why I sent for him--When he came, after a bit, I was +afraid, and sent for you----" + +"Afraid of what?" I asked. + +"He asked me at once what money I had--Then there seemed to be no doubt +in his mind that I would join him--We spoke of you--the friend who could +advise me--He never said--what he said afterwards--I thought it kind +of him to consent to see you--I rang the bell and sent the chasseur for +you. I supposed Anastasius had gone home--I never thought of him. The +poor little man was sweet to me, just like a dog--a silent, +sympathetic dog--I spoke to him as I would to something that wouldn't +understand--all sorts of foolish things--Now and then a woman has to +empty her heart"--she shivered--her hands before her face. + +"It's my fault, it's my fault." + +"These things are no one's fault," I said gently. But just as I was +beginning to console her with what thumb-marked scraps of platitude I +could collect--the only philosophy after all, such is the futility of +systems, adequate to the deep issues of life--the door opened and the +manager announced that the police had arrived. + +We went through the ordeal of the _proces-verbal_. Anastasius, +confronted with his victim, had no memory of what had occurred. He +shrieked and shrank and hid his face in Lola's dress. When he was forced +to speak he declared that the dead man was not Captain Vauvenarde. +Captain Vauvenarde was at the Cercle Africain. He, himself, was seeking +him. He would take the gendarmes there, and they could arrest the +Captain for the murder of Sultan of which his papers contained +indubitable proofs. Eventually the poor little wretch was led away in +custody, proud and smiling, entirely convinced that he was leading his +captors to the arrest of Captain Vauvenarde. On the threshold he turned +and bowed to us so low that the brim of his silk hat touched the +floor. Then Lola's nerve gave way and she broke into a passion of awful +weeping. + +The _commissaire de police_ secured the long thin knife (how the dwarf +had managed to conceal it on his small person was a mystery) and the +bundle of documents, and accompanied me to my room to see whether he had +left anything there to serve as a _piece de conviction_. We found +only the crumpled picture of the horse Sultan neatly pinned against my +bedroom wall, and on the floor a ribbon tied like a garter with a little +bell opposite the bow. On it was written "Santa Bianca," and I knew it +was the collar of the beloved cat which he must have been carrying about +him for a talisman. The _commissaire_ took this also. + + + +If you desire to know the details of the judicial proceedings connected +with the murder of Andre Marie-Joseph Vauvenarde, ex-Captain in the +Chasseurs d'Afrique, and the trial of Anastasius Papadopoulos, I must +refer you to the Algerian, Parisian, and London Press. There you will +find an eagerly picturesque account of the whole miserable affair. Now, +not only am I unable to compete with descriptive verbatim reporters +on their own ground, but also a consecutive statement, either bald or +graphic, of the tedious horrors Lola Brandt and I had to undergo, +would be foreign to the purpose of these notes, however far from their +original purpose an ironical destiny has caused them to wander. You know +nearly all that is necessary for you to know, so that when I am dead +you may not judge me too harshly. The remainder I can summarise in a few +words. At any rate, I have told the truth, often more naively than one +would have thought possible for a man who prided himself as much as I +did on his epicurean sophistication. + +These have been days, as I say, of tedious horror. There have been +endless examinations, reconstructions of the crime, exposures in daring +publicity of the private lives of the protagonists of the lunatic drama. +The French judges and advocates have accepted the account given by Lola +and myself of our mutual relations with a certain mocking credulity. The +Press hasn't accepted it at all. It took as a matter of course the +view held by the none too noble victim. At first, seeing Lola shrug her +shoulders with supreme indifference as to her own reputation, I cared +but little for these insinuations. I wrote such letters to my sisters +and to Dale as I felt sure would be believed, and let the long-eared, +gaping world go hang. Besides, I had other things to think of. Physical +pain is insistent, and I have suffered damnable torture. The pettiness +of the legal inquiry has been also a maddening irritation. Nothing has +been too minute for the attention of the French judiciary. It seemed as +though the whole of the evil gang of the Cercle Africain were called as +witnesses. They testified as to Captain Vauvenarde's part proprietorship +of the hell--as to wrong practices that occurred there--as to the crazy +conduct of both Anastasius and myself on the occasion of my insane +visit. Officers of the Chasseurs d'Afrique were compelled further to +blacken the character of the dead man--he had been a notorious plucker +of pigeons during most of his military career, and when at last he was +caught red-handed palming the king at _ecarte_, he was forced to resign +his commission. Arabs came from the slums with appalling stories. Even +the stolid Saupiquet, dragged from Toulon, gave evidence as to the +five-franc bribe and the debt of fifteen sous, and identified the horse +Sultan by the crumpled photograph. Lola and I have been racked day +after day with questions--some, indeed, prompted by the suspicion that +Vauvenarde might have met his death directly by our hand instead of that +of Anastasius. It was the Procureur-general who said: "It can be argued +that you would benefit by the decease of the defunct." I replied that +we could not benefit in any way. My sole object was to effect a +reconciliation between husband and wife. "Will you explain why you gave +yourself that trouble?" I never have smiled so grimly as I did then. +How could I explain my precious pursuit of the eumoirous to a French +Procureur-general? How could I put before him the point of view of a +semi-disembodied spirit? I replied with lame lack of originality that +my actions proceeded from disinterested friendship. "You are a pure +altruist then?" said he. "Very pure," said I. . . . It was only the +facts of the scabbard of the knife having been found attached to the +dwarf's person beneath his clothes, and of certain rambling menaces +occurring in his Sultan papers that saved us from the indignity of being +arrested and put into the dock. . . . + +During all this time I remained at the hotel at Mustapha Superieur. Lola +moved to a suite of rooms in another hotel a little way down the hill. I +saw her daily. At first she shrank from publicity and refused to go out, +save in a closed carriage to the town when her presence was necessary +at the inquiries. But after a time I persuaded her to brave the stare of +the curious and stroll with me among the eucalyptus woods above. We +cut ourselves off from other human companionship and felt like two lost +souls wandering alone through mist. She conducted herself with grave and +simple dignity. . . . Once or twice she visited Anastasius in prison. +She found him humanely treated and not despondent. He thought they +had arrested him for the poisoning of the horse, and laughed at their +foolishness. As they refused to return him his dossier, he occupied +himself in reconstructing it, and wrote pages and pages of incoherence +to prove the guilt of Captain Vauvenarde. He was hopelessly mad. . . . +The bond of pain bound me very close to Lola. + +"What are you going to do with your life?" I asked her one day. + +"So long as I have you as a friend, it doesn't greatly matter." + +"You forget," I said, "that you can't have me much longer." + +"Are you going to leave me? It's not because I have dragged you through +all this dirt and horror. Another woman might say that of another +man--but not I of you. Why are you going to leave me? I want so +little--only to see you now and then--to keep the heart in me." + +"Can't you realise, that what I said in London is true?" + +"No. I can't. It's unbelievable. You can't believe it yourself. If +you did, how could you go on behaving like anybody else--like me for +instance?" + +"What would you do if you were condemned to die?" + +She shuddered. "I should go mad with fear--I----" She broke off and +remained for some moments reflective, with knitted brow. Then she lifted +her head proudly. "No, I shouldn't. I should face it like you. Only +cowards are afraid. It's best to show things that you don't care a hang +for them." + +"Keep that sublime _je m'en fich'isme_ up when I'm dead and buried," +said I, "and you'll pull through your life all right. The only thing you +must avoid is the pursuit of eumoiriety." + +"What on earth is that?" she asked. + +"The last devastating vanity," said I. + +And so it is. + +"When you are gone," she said bravely, "I shall remember how strong and +true you were. It will make me strong too." + +I acquiesced silently in her proposition. In this age of flippancy +and scepticism, if a human soul proclaims sincerely its faith in the +divinity of a rabbit, in God's name don't disturb it. It is _something_ +whereto to refer his aspirations, his resolves; it is a court of +arbitration, at the lowest, for his spiritual disputes; and the rabbit +will be as effective an oracle as any other. For are not all religions +but the strivings of the spirit towards crystallisation at some point +outside the environment of passions and appetites which is the flesh, so +that it can work untrammelled: and are not all gods but the accidental +forms, conditioned by circumstance, which this crystallisation takes? +All gods in their anthropo-, helio-, thero-, or what-not-morphic forms +are false; but, on the other hand, all gods in their spiritual essence +are true. So I do not deprecate my prospective unique position in Lola +Brandt's hagiology. It was better for her soul that I should occupy it. +Even if I were about to live my normal life out, like any other hearty +human, marry and beget children, I doubt whether I should attempt to +shake my wife's faith in my heroical qualities. + +This was but a fragment of one among countless talks. Some were lighter +in tone, others darker, the mood of man being much like a child's +balloon which rises or falls as the strata of air are more rarefied or +more dense. Perhaps during the time of strain, the atmosphere was more +often rarefied, and our conversation had the day's depressing incidents +for its topics. We rarely spoke of the dead man. He was scarcely a +subject for panegyric, and it was useless to dwell on the memory of +his degradation. I think we only once talked of him deeply and at +any length, and that was on the day of the funeral. His brother, a +manufacturer at Clermont-Ferrand, and a widowed aunt, apparently his +only two surviving relatives, arrived in Algiers just in time to attend +the ceremony. They had seen the report of the murder in the newspapers +and had started forthwith. The brother, during an interview with Lola, +said bitter things to her, reproaching her with the man's downfall, and +cast on her the responsibility of his death. + +"He spoke," she said, "as if I had suggested the murder and practically +put the knife into the poor crazy little fellow's hand." + +The Vauvenardes must have been an amiable family. + +"Before I came," she said a little while later, "I still had +some tenderness for him--a woman has for the only man that has +been--really--in her life. I wish I could feel it now. I wish I could +feel some respect even. But I can't. If I could, it would lessen the +horror that has got hold of me to my bones." + +It was a torture to her generous soul that she could not grieve for him. +She could only shudder at the tragedy. In her heart she grieved more for +Anastasius Papadopoulos, and in so doing she was, in her feminine way, +self-accusative of callous lack of human feeling. It was my attempt to +bring her to a more rational state of mind that caused us to review the +dead man's career, and recapitulate the unpleasing incidents of the last +interview. + +Of Captain Vauvenarde, no more. He has gone whither I am going. That his +soul may rest in peace is my earnest prayer. But I do not wish to meet +him. + +Lola went tearless and strong through the horrible ordeal of +the judicial proceedings. She said I gave her courage. Perhaps, +unconsciously, I did. It was only when the end came that she broke down, +although she knew exactly what the end would be. And I, too, felt a lump +in my throat when they sentenced Anastasius Papadopoulos to the asylum, +and I saw him for the last time, the living parody of Napoleon III, +frock-coated and yellow-gloved, the precious, newly written dossier in +his hand, as he disappeared with a mournful smile from the court, +after bowing low to the judge and to us, without having understood the +significance of anything that had happened. + +In the carriage that took us home she wept and sobbed bitterly. + +"I loved him so. He was the only creature on earth that loved me. He +loved me as only a dog can love--or an angel." + +I let her cry. What could I say or do? + + + +These have been weeks of tedious horror and pain. With the exception of +Colonel Bunnion, I have kept myself aloof from my fellow creatures +in the hotel, even taking my meals in my own rooms, not wishing to be +stared at as the hero of the scandal that convulsed the place. And with +regard to Colonel Bunnion shall I be accused of cynicism if I say that +I admitted him--not to my confidence--but to my company, because I know +that it delighted the honest but boring fellow to prove to himself that +he could rise above British prejudice and exhibit tact in dealing with +a man in a delicate position? For, mark you, all the world--even those +nearest and dearest to me as I soon discovered--believed that the wife +of the man who was murdered before my eyes was my mistress. Colonel +Bunnion was kind, and he meant to be kind. He was a gentleman for all +his wearisomeness, and his kindness was such as I could accept. But I +know what I say about him is true. Ye gods! Haven't I felt myself the +same swelling pride in my broadmindedness? When a man is going on my +journey he does not palter with truth. + +Though I held myself aloof, as I say, from practically all my fellow +creatures here, I have not been cut off from the outside world. My +sisters, like this French court in Algiers, have accepted my statement +with polite incredulity. Their letters have been full of love, +half-veiled reproach, anxiety as to their social position, and an insane +desire to come and take care of me. This I have forbidden them to do. +The pain they would have inflicted on themselves, dear souls, would have +far outweighed the comfort I might have gained from their ministrations. +Then I have had piteous letters from Dale. + +". . . Your telegram reassured me, though I was puzzled. Now I get a +letter from Lola, telling me it's all off--that she never loved me--that +she valued my youth and my friendship, but that it is best for us not to +meet again. What is the meaning of it, Simon? For Heaven's sake tell me. +I can't think of anything else. I can't sleep. I am going off my +head. . . ." + +Again. ". . . This awful newspaper report and your letter of +explanation--I have them side by side. Forgive me, Simon. I don't know +what to believe, where to turn. . . . I have looked up to you as the +best and straightest man I know. You must be. Yet why have you done +this? Why didn't you tell me she was married? Why didn't she tell me? I +can't write properly, my head is all on a buzz. The beastly papers say +you were living with her in Algiers--but you weren't, were you? It would +be too horrible. In fact, you say you weren't. But, all the same, +you have stolen her from me. It wasn't like you. . . . And this awful +murder. My God! you don't know what it all means to me. It's breaking my +heart. . . ." + +And Lady Kynnersley wrote--with what object I scarcely know. The +situation was far beyond the poor lady's by-laws and regulations for the +upbringing of families and the conduct of life. The elemental mother +in her battled on the side of her only son--foolishly, irrationally, +unkindly. Her exordium was as correct as could be. The tragedy shocked +her, the scandal grieved her, the innuendoes of the Press she refused to +believe; she sympathised with me deeply. But then she turned from me +to Dale, and feminine unreason took possession of her pen. She bitterly +reproached herself for having spoken to me of Madame Brandt. Had she +known how passionate and real was this attachment, she would never have +interfered. The boy was broken-hearted. He accused me of having +stolen her from him--his own words. He took little interest in his +electioneering campaign, spoke badly, unconvincingly; spent hours in +alternate fits of listlessness and anger. She feared for her darling's +health and reason. She made an appeal to me who professed to love +him--if it were honourably possible, would I bring Madame Brandt back to +him? She was willing now to accept Dale's estimate of her worth. Could +I, at the least, prevail on Madame Brandt to give him some hope--of what +she did not know--but some hope that would save him from ruining his +career and "doing something desperate"? + +And another letter from Dale: + +". . . I can't work at this election. For God's sake, give her back to +me. Then I won't care. What is Parliament to me without her? And the +election is as good as lost already. The other side has made as much as +possible of the scandal. . . ." + +The only letters that have not been misery to read have come from +Eleanor Faversham. There was one passage which made me thank God that He +had created such women as Eleanor-- + +"Don't fret over the newspaper lies, dear. Those who love you--and why +shouldn't I love you still?--know the honourable gentleman that you are. +Write to me if it would ease your heart and tell me just what you feel +you can. Now and always you have my utter sympathy and understanding." + +And this is the woman of whose thousand virtues I dared to speak in +flippant jest. + +Heaven forgive me. + +After receiving Lady Kynnersley's appeal, I went to Lola. It was just +before the case came on at the Cour d'Assises. She had finished luncheon +in her private room and was sitting over her coffee. I joined her. She +wore the black blouse and skirt with which I have not yet been able +to grow familiar, as it robbed her of the peculiar fascinating quality +which I have tried to suggest by the word pantherine. Coffee over, we +moved to the window which opened on a little back garden--the room was +on the ground floor--in which grew prickly pear and mimosa, and newly +flowering heliotrope. I don't know why I should mention this, except +that some scenes impress themselves, for no particular reason, on the +memory, while others associated with more important incidents fade into +vagueness. I picked a bunch of heliotrope which she pinned at her bosom. + +"Lola," I said, "I want to speak to you seriously." + +She smiled wanly: "Do we ever speak otherwise these dreadful days?" + +"It's about Dale. Read this," said I, and I handed her Lady Kynnersley's +letter. She read it through and returned it to me. + +"Well?" + +"I asked you a week or two ago what you were going to do with your +life," I said. "Does that letter offer you any suggestion?" + +"I'm to give him some hope--what hope can I give him?" + +"You're a free woman--free to marry. For the boy's sake the mother will +consent. When she knows you as well as we know you she will--" + +"She will--what? Love me?" + +"She's a woman not given to loving--except, in unexpected bursts, her +offspring. But she will respect you." + +She stood for a few moments silent, her arm resting against the window +jamb and her head on her arm. She remained there so long that at last I +rose and, looking at her face, saw that her eyes were full of tears. She +dashed them away with the back of her hand, gave me a swift look, and +went and sat in the shadow of the room. An action of this kind on the +part of a woman signifies a desire for solitude. I lit a cigarette and +went into the garden. + +It was a sorry business. I saw as clearly as Lola that Lady Kynnersley +desired to purchase Dale's immediate happiness at any price, and that +the future might bring bitter repentance. But I offered no advice. +I have finished playing at Deputy Providence. A madman letting off +fireworks in a gunpowder factory plays a less dangerous game. + +Presently she joined me and ran her arm through mine. + +"I'll write to Dale this afternoon," she said. "Don't let us talk of it +any more now. You are tired out. It's time for you to go and lie down. +I'll walk with you up the hill." + +It has come to this, that I must lie down for some hours during the day +lest I should fall to pieces. + +"I suppose I'll have to," I laughed. "What a thing it is to have the +wits of a man and the strength of a baby." + +She pressed my arm and said in her low caressing voice which I had not +heard for many weeks: "I shouldn't be so proud of those man's wits, if I +were you." + +I knew she said it playfully with reference to masculine non-perception +of the feminine; but I chose to take it broadly. + +"My dear Lola," said I, "it has been borne in upon me that I am the most +witless fool that the unwisdom of generations of English country squires +has ever succeeded in producing." + +"Don't talk rot," she said, with foolishness in her eyes. + +She accompanied me bareheaded in the sunshine to the gate of my hotel. + +"Come and dine with me, if you're well enough," she said as we parted. + +I assented, and when the evening came I went. Did I not say that we were +like two lost souls wandering alone in the mist? + +It was only when I rose to bid her good-night that she referred to Dale. + +"I wrote to him this afternoon," she announced curtly. + +"You said you would do so." + +"Would you like to know what I told him?" + +She put her hands behind her back and stood facing me, somewhat +defiantly, in all her magnificence. I smiled. Women, much as they scoff +at the blindness of our sex, are often transparent. + +"It's your firm determination to tell me," said I. "Well?" + +She advanced a step nearer to me, and looked me straight in the eyes +defiantly. + +"I told him that I loved you with all my heart and all my soul. I told +him that you didn't know it; that you didn't care a brass curse for me; +that you had acted as you thought best for the happiness of himself and +me. I told him that while you lived I could not think of another man. +I told him that if you could face Death with a smile on your face, he +might very well show the same courage and not chuck things right and +left just because a common woman wouldn't marry him or live with him and +spoil his career. There! That's what I told him. What do you think?" + +"Heaven knows what effect it will have," said I, wearily, for I was +very, very tired. "But why, my poor Lola, have you wasted your love on a +shadow like me?" + +She answered after the foolish way of women. + + + +I have not heard from either Dale or Lady Kynnersley. A day or two ago, +in reply to a telegram to Raggles, I learned that Dale had lost the +election. + +This, then, is the end of my _apologia pro vita mea_, which I began with +so resonant a flourish of vainglory. I have said all that there is to be +said. Nothing more has happened or is likely to happen until they put me +under the earth. Oh, yes, I was forgetting. In spite of my Monte Cristo +munificence, poor Latimer has been hammered on the Stock Exchange. Poor +Lucy and the kids! + +I shall have, I think, just enough strength left to reach Mentone--this +place is intolerable now--and there I shall put myself under the care of +a capable physician who, with his abominable drugs, will doubtless begin +the cheerful work of inducing the mental decay which I suppose must +precede physical dissolution. + +I must confess that I am disappointed with the manner of my exit. I had +imagined it quite different. I had beheld myself turning with a smile +and a jest for one last view of the faces over which I, in my eumoirous +career, had cast the largesse of happiness, and the vanishing with a +gallant carelessness through the dusky portals. Instead of that, here +am I sneaking out of life by the back door, covering my eyes for very +shame. And glad? Oh, God, how glad I am to slink out of it! + +I have indeed accomplished the thing which I set out to do. I have +severed a boy from the object of his passion. What an achievement +for the crowning glory of a lifetime! And at what a cost: one +fellow-creature's life and another's reason. On me lies the +responsibility. Vauvenarde, it is true, did not adorn this grey world, +but he drew the breath of life, and, through my jesting agency, it +was cut off. Anastasius Papadopoulos, had he not come under my malign +influence would have lived out his industrious, happy and dream-filled +days. Lesser, but still great price, too, has been paid. Jealous hatred, +misery and failure for the being I care most for in the world, the shame +of a sordid scandal to those that hold me dear, the hopeless love and +speedy mourning of a woman not without greatness. + +I have tried to make a Tom Fool of Destiny--and Destiny has proved +itself to be the superior jester of the two, and has made a grim and +bedraggled Tom Fool of me. + +. . . I must end this. I have just fallen in a faint on the floor, and +Rogers has revived me with some drops Hunnington had given me in view of +such a contingency. + +These are the last words I shall write. Life is too transcendentally +humorous for a man not to take it seriously. Compared with it, Death is +but a shallow jest. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +It is many weeks since I wrote those words which I thought were to be +my last. I read them over now, and laugh aloud. Life is more devilishly +humorous than I in my most nightmare dreams ever imagined. Instead of +dying at Mentone as I proposed, I am here, at Mustapha Superieur, still +living. And let me tell you the master joke of the Arch-Jester. + +I am going to live. + +I am not going to die. I am going to live. I am quite well. + +Think of it. Is it farcical, comical, tragical, or what? + +This is how it has befallen. The last thing I remember of the +old conditions was Rogers packing my things, and a sudden, awful, +excruciating agony. I lost consciousness, remained for days in a +bemused, stupefied state, which I felt convinced was death, and found +particularly pleasant. At last I woke to a sense of bodily constriction +and discomfort, and to the queer realisation that what I had taken for +the Garden of Prosperpine was my own bedroom, and that the pale lady +whom I had so confidently assumed was she who, crowned with calm leaves, +"gathers all things mortal with cold, immortal hands" was no other than +a blue-and-white-vested hospital nurse. + +"What the----" I began. + +"Chut!" she said, flitting noiselessly to my side. "You mustn't talk." +And then she poured something down my throat. I lay back, wondering +what it all meant. Presently a grizzled and tanned man, wearing a narrow +black tie, came into the room. His face seemed oddly familiar. The nurse +whispered to him. He came up to the bed, and asked me in French how I +felt. + +"I don't know at all," said I. + +He laughed. "That's a good sign. Let me see how you are getting on." +He stuck a thermometer in my mouth and held my pulse. These formalities +completed, he turned up the bedclothes and did something with my body. +Only then did I realise that I was tightly bandaged. My impressions grew +clearer, and when he raised his face I recognised the doctor who had sat +on the sofa with Anastasius Papadopoulos. + +"Nothing could be better," said he. "Keep quiet, and all will be well." + +"Will you kindly explain?" I asked. + +"You've had an operation. Also a narrow escape." + +I smiled at him pityingly. "What is the good of taking all this trouble? +Why are you wasting your time?" + +He looked at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then he laughed as +the light came to him. + +"Oh, I understand! Yes. Your English doctors had told you you were going +to die. That an operation would be fatal--so your good friend +Madame Brandt informed us--but we--_nous autres Francais_--are more +enterprising. Kill or cure. We performed the operation--we didn't kill +you--and here you are--cured." + +My heart sickened with a horrible foreboding. A clamminess, such as +others feel at the approach of death, spread over my brow and neck. + +"Good God!" I cried, "you are not trying to tell me that I'm going to +live?" + +"Why, of course I am!" he exclaimed, brutally delighted. "If nothing +else kills you, you'll live to be a hundred." + +"Oh, damn!" said I. "Oh, damn! Oh, damn!" and the tears of physical +weakness poured down my cheeks. + +"_Ce sont des droles de gens, les Anglais_!" I heard him whisper to the +nurse before he left the room. + +Belonging to a queer folk or not, I found the prospect more and more +dismally appalling according as my mind regained its clarity. It was the +most overwhelming, piteous disappointment I have ever experienced in my +life. I cursed in my whimpering, invalid fashion. + +"But don't you want to get well?" asked the wide-eyed nurse. + +"Certainly not! I thought I was dead, and I was very happy. I've been +tricked and cheated and fooled," and I dashed my fist against the +counterpane. + +"If you go on in this way," said the nurse, "you will commit suicide." + +"I don't care!" I cried--and then, they tell me, fainted. My temperature +also ran up, and I became lightheaded again. It was not until the next +day that I recovered my sanity. This time Lola was in the room with the +nurse, and after a while the latter left us together. Even Lola could +not understand my paralysing dismay. + +"But think of it, my dear friend," she argued, "just think of it. You +are saved--saved by a miracle. The doctor says you will be stronger than +you have ever been before." + +"All the more dreadful will it be," said I. "I had finished with life. +I had got through with it. I don't want a second lifetime. One is quite +enough for any sane human being. Why on earth couldn't they have let me +die?" + +Lola passed her cool hand over my forehead. + +"You mustn't talk like that--Simon," she said, in her deepest and most +caressing voice, using my name somewhat hesitatingly, for the first +time. "You mustn't. A miracle really has been performed. You've been +raised from the dead--like the man in the Gospel----" + +"Yes," said I petulantly, "Lazarus. And does the Gospel tell us what +Lazarus really thought of the unwarrantable interference with his plans? +Of course he had to be polite--" + +"Oh, don't!" cried, Lola, shocked. In a queer unenlightened way, she was +a religious woman. + +"I'm sorry," said I, feeling ashamed of myself. + +"If you knew how I have prayed God to make you well," she said. "If I +could have died for you, I would--gladly--gladly----" + +"But I wanted to die, my dear Lola," I insisted, with the egotism of +the sick. "I object to this resuscitation. I say it is monstrous that +I should have to start a second lifetime at my age. It's all very +well when you begin at the age of half a minute--but when you begin at +eight-and-thirty years----" + +"You have all the wisdom of eight-and-thirty years to start with." + +"There is only one thing more disastrous to a man than the wisdom of +thirty-eight years," I declared with mulish inconvincibility, "and that +is the wisdom he may accumulate after that age." + +She sighed and abandoned the argument. "We are going to make you well in +spite of yourself," she said. + +They, namely, the doctor, the nurse, and Lola, have done their best, and +they have succeeded. But their task has been a hard one. The patient's +will to live is always a great factor in his recovery. My disgust at +having to live has impeded my convalescence, and I fully believe that +it is only Lola's tears and the doctor's frenzied appeals to me not +to destroy the one chance of his life of establishing a brilliant +professional reputation that have made me consent to face existence +again. + +As for the doctor, he was pathetically insistent. + +"But you must get well!" he gesticulated. "I am going to publish it, +your operation. It will make my fortune. I shall at last be able to +leave this hole of an Algiers and go to Paris! You don't know what I've +done for you! I've performed an operation on you that has never been +performed successfully before. I thought it had been done, but I found +out afterwards my English _confreres_ were right. It hasn't. I've worked +a miracle in surgery, and by my publication will make you as the +subject of it famous for ever. And here you are trying to die and ruin +everything. I ask you--have you no human feelings left?" + +At the conclusion of these lectures I would sigh and laugh, and stretch +out a thin hand. He shook it always with a humorous grumpiness which did +me more good than the prospect of acquiring fame in the annals of the +_Ecole de Medicine_. + +Here am I, however, cured. I have thrown away the stick with which I +first began to limp about the garden, and I discourage Lola and Rogers +in their efforts to treat me as an invalid. Like the doctor, I have +been longing to escape from "this hole of an Algiers" and its painful +associations, and, when I was able to leave my room, it occurred to me +that the sooner I regained my strength the sooner should I be able to do +so. Since then my recovery has been rapid. The doctor is delighted, and +slaps me on the back, and points me out to Lola and the manager and the +concierge and the hoary old sinner of an Arab who displays his daggers, +and trays, and embroideries on the terrace, as a living wonder. I +believe he would like to put me in a cage and carry me about with him in +Paris on exhibition. But he is reluctantly prepared to part with me, and +has consented to my return in a few days' time, to England, by the North +German Lloyd steamer. He has ordered the sea voyage as a finishing +touch to my cure. Good, deluded man, he thinks that it is his fortuitous +science that has dragged me out of the Valley of the Shadow and set me +in the Garden of Life. Good, deluded man! He does not realise that he +has been merely the tool of the Arch-Jester. He has no notion of the +sardonic joke his knife was chosen to perpetrate. That naked we should +come into the world, and naked we should go out is a time-honoured +pleasantry which, as far as the latter part of it is concerned, I did +my conscientious best to further; but that we should come into it again +naked at the age of eight-and-thirty is a piece of irony too grim for +contemplation. Yet am I bound to contemplate it. It grins me in the +face. Figuratively, I am naked. + +Partly by my own act, and partly with the help of Destiny (the greater +jester than I) I have stripped myself of all these garments of life +which not only enabled me to strut peacock-fashion in the pleasant +places of the world, but also sheltered me from its inclemencies. + +I had wealth--not a Rothschild or Vanderbilt fortune but enough to +assure me ease and luxury. I have stripped myself of it. I have but a +beggarly sum remaining at my bankers. Practically I am a pauper. + +I had political position. I surrendered it as airily as I had achieved +it; so airily, indeed, that I doubt whether I could regain it even had +I the ambition. For it was a game that I played, sometimes fascinating, +sometimes repugnant to my fastidious sense of honourable dealing, for +which I shall never recapture the mood. Mood depends on conditions, and +conditions, as I am trying to show, are changed. + +I had social position. I did not deceive myself as to its value in the +cosmic scheme, but it was one of the pleasant things to which I was +born, just as I was born to good food and wines and unpatched boots and +the morning hot water brought into my bedroom. I liked it. I suspect +that it has fled into eternity with the spirit of Captain Vauvenarde. +The penniless hero of an amazing scandal is not usually made an idol of +by the exclusive aristocracy of Great Britain. + +I had a sweet and loyal woman about to marry me. I put Eleanor Faversham +for ever out of my life. + +I had the devotion and hero-worship of a lad whom I thought to train in +the paths of honour, love and happiness. In his eyes I suppose I am an +unconscionable villain. + +I have stripped myself of everything; and all because the medical +faculty of my country sentenced me to death. I really think the Royal +Colleges of Surgeons and Physicians ought to pay me an indemnity. + +And not only have I stripped myself of everything, but I have incurred +an incalculable debt. I owe a woman the infinite debt of her love which +I cannot repay. She sheds it on me hourly with a lavishness which scares +me. But for her tireless devotion, the doctor tells me, I should not +have lived. But for her selfish forbearance, sympathy, and compassion I +should have gone as crazy as Anastasius Papadopoulos. Yet the burden of +my debt lies iceberg cold on my heart. Now that we are as intimate +as man and woman who are still only friends can be, she has lost the +magnetic attraction, that subtle mystery of the woman--half goddess, +half panther--which fascinated me in spite of myself, and made +me jealous of poor young Dale. Now that I can see things in some +perspective, I confess that, had I not been under sentence of death, +and, therefore, profoundly convinced that I was immune from all such +weaknesses of the flesh, I should have realised the temptation of +languorous voice and sinuous limbs, of the frank radiation of the +animal enchanted as it was by elusive gleams of the spiritual, of the +Laisdom--in a word, of all the sexual damnability of a woman which, as +Francois Villon points out, set Sardanapalus to spin among the women, +David to forget the fear of God, Herod to slay the Baptist, and made +Samson lose his sight. Whether I should have yielded to or resisted the +temptation is another matter. Honestly speaking, I think I should have +resisted. + +You see, I should still have been engaged to Eleanor Faversham. . . . +But now this somewhat unholy influence is gone from her. She has lifted +me in her strong arms as a mother would lift a brat of ten. She has +patiently suffered my whimsies as if I had been a sick girl. She has +become to me the mere great mothering creature on whom I have depended +for custard and the removal of crumbs and creases from under my body, +and for support to my tottering footsteps. The glamour has gone from +before my eyes. I no longer see her invested in her queer +splendour. . . . + +My invalid peevishness, too, has accentuated my sensitiveness to shades +of refinement. There is about Lola a bluffness, a hardihood of speech, +a contempt for the polite word and the pretty conventional turning of +a phrase, a lack of reticence in the expression of ideas and feelings, +which jar, in spite of my gratitude, on my unstrung nerves. Her +ignorance, too, of a thousand things, a knowledge of which is the +birthright of such women as Eleanor Faversham, causes conversational +excursions to end in innumerable blind alleys. I know that she would +give her soul to learn. This she has told me in so many words, and when, +in a delicate way, I try to teach her, she listens humbly, pathetically, +fixing me with her great, gold-flecked eyes, behind which a deep sadness +burns wistfully. Sometimes when I glance up from my book, I see that her +eyes, instead of being bent on hers have been resting long on my face, +and they say as clearly as articulate speech: "Teach me, love me, use +me, do what you will with me. I am yours, your chattel, your thing, till +the end of time." + +I lie awake at night and wonder what I shall do with my naked life +sheltered only by the garment of this woman's love, which I have +accepted and cannot repay. I groan aloud when I reflect on the +irremediable mess, hash, bungle I have made of things. Did ever sick man +wake up to such a hopeless welter? Can you be surprised that I regarded +it with dismay? Of course, there is a simple way out of it, and into +the shadowy world which I contemplated so long, at first with mocking +indifference and then with eager longing. A gentleman called Cato once +took it, with considerable aplomb. The means are to my hand. In my +drawer lies the revolver with which the excellent Colonel Bunnion (long +since departed from Mustapha Superieur) armed me against the banditti of +Algiers, and which I forgot to return to him. I could empty one or more +of the six chambers into my person and that would be the end. But I +don't think history records the suicide of any humorist, however dismal. +He knows too well the tricks of the Arch-Jester's game. Very likely I +should merely blow away half my head, and Destiny would give my good +doctor another chance of achieving immortal fame by glueing it on again. +No, I cannot think seriously of suicide by violent means. Of course, I +might follow the example of one Antonios Polemon, a later Greek sophist, +who suffered so dreadfully from gout that he buried himself alive in the +tomb of his ancestors and starved to death. We have a family vault in +Highgate Cemetery, of which I possess the key. . . . No, I should be +bored and cold, and the coffins would get on my nerves; and besides, +there is something suggestive of smug villadom in the idea of going to +die at Highgate. + +Lola came up as I was scribbling this on my knees in the garden. + +"What are you writing there?" + +"I am recasting Hamlet's soliloquy," I replied, "and I feel all the +better for it." + +"Here is your egg and brandy." + +I swallowed it and handed her back the glass. + +"I feel all the better for that, too." + +As I sat in the shade of the little stone summer-house within the Greek +portico, she lingered in the blazing sunshine, a figure all glorious +health and supple curves, and the stray brown hairs above the brown mass +gleamed with the gold of a Giotto aureole. She stood, a duskily glowing, +radiant emblem of life against the background of spring greenery and +rioting convolvulus. I drew a full breath and looked at her as +if magnetised. I had the very oddest sensation. She seemed, in +Shakespearean phrase, to rain influence upon me. As if she read the +stirrings of my blood, she smiled and said: + +"After all, confess, isn't it good to be alive?" + +A thrill of physical well-being swept through me. I leaped to my feet. + +"You witch!" I cried. "What are you doing to me?" + +"I?" She retreated a step, with a laugh. + +"Yes, you. You are casting a spell on me, so that I may eat my words." + +"I don't know what you are talking about, but you haven't answered my +question. It _is_ good to be alive." + +"Well, it is," I assented, losing all sense of consistency. + +She flourished the egg-and-brandy glass. "I'm so glad. Now I know you +are really well, and will face life as you faced death, like the brave +man that you are." + +I cried to her to hold. I had not intended to go as far as that. I +confronted death with a smile; I meet life with the wriest of wry faces. +She would have none of my arguments. + +"No matter how damnable it is--it's splendid to be alive, just to feel +that you can fight, just to feel that you don't care a damn for any old +thing that can happen, because you're strong and brave. I do want you +to get back all that you've lost, all that you've lost through me, and +you'll do it. I know that you'll do it. You'll just go out and smash up +the silly old world and bring it to your feet. You will, Simon, won't +you? I know you will." + +She quivered like an optimistic Cassandra. + +"My dear Lola," said I. + +I was touched. I took her hand and raised it to my lips, whereat she +flushed like a girl. + +"Did you come here to tell me all this?" + +"No," she replied simply. "It came all of a sudden, as I was standing +here. I've often wanted to say it. I'm glad I have." + +She threw back her head and regarded me a moment with a strange, proud +smile; then turned and walked slowly away, her head brushing the long +scarlet clusters of the pepper trees. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The other day, while looking through a limbo of a drawer wherein have +been cast from time to time a medley of maimed, half-soiled, abortive +things, too unfitted for the paradise of publication, and too good (so +my vanity will have it) for the damnation of the waste-paper basket, +I came across, at the very bottom, the manuscript of the preceding +autobiographical narrative, the last words of which I wrote at Mustapha +Superieur three years ago. At first I carried it about with me, not +caring to destroy it and not knowing what in the world to do with it +until, with the malice of inanimate things, the dirty dog's-eared bundle +took to haunting me, turning up continually in inconvenient places and +ever insistently demanding a new depository. At last I began to look +on it with loathing; and one day in a fit of inspiration, creating the +limbo aforesaid, I hurled the manuscript, as I thought, into everlasting +oblivion. I had no desire to carry on the record of my life any further, +and there, in limbo, it has remained for three years. But the other day +I took it out for reference; and now as I am holiday-making in a certain +little backwater of the world, where it is raining in a most unholiday +fashion, it occurs to me that, as everything has happened to me which is +likely to happen (Heaven knows I want no more excursions and alarums +in my life's drama), I may as well bring the narrative up to date. I +therefore take up the thread, so far as I can, from where I left off. + +Lola, having nothing to do in Algiers, which had grown hateful to us +both, accompanied me to London. As, however, the weather was rough, and +she was a very bad sailor, I saw little of her on the voyage. For my own +part, I enjoyed the stormy days, the howling winds and the infuriated +waves dashing impotently over the steamer. They filled me with a sense +of conflict and of amusement. It is always good to see man triumphing +over the murderous forces of nature. It puts one in conceit with one's +kind. + +At Waterloo I handed Lola over to her maid, who had come to meet her, +and, leaving Rogers in charge of my luggage, I drove homeward in a cab. + +It was only as I was crossing Waterloo Bridge and saw the dark mass of +the Houses of Parliament looming on the other side of the river, and the +light in the tower which showed that the House was sitting, that I +began to realise my situation. As exiles in desert lands yearn for green +fields, so yearned I for those green benches. In vain I represented to +myself how often I had yawned on them, how often I had cursed my folly +in sitting on them and listening to empty babble when I might have been +dining cosily, or talking to a pretty woman or listening to a comic +opera, or performing some other useful and soul-satisfying action of +the kind; in vain I told myself what a monument of futility was that +building; I longed to be in it and of it once again. And when I realised +that I yearned for the impossible, my heart was like a stone. For, +indeed, I, Simon de Gex, with London once a toy to my hand, was coming +into it now a penniless adventurer to seek my fortune. + +The cab turned into the Strand, which greeted me as affably as a +pandemonium. Motor omnibuses whizzed at me, cabs rattled and jeered +at me, private motors and carriages passed me by in sleek contempt; +policemen regarded me scornfully as, with uplifted hand regulating +the traffic, they held me up; pavements full of people surged along +ostentatiously showing that they did not care a brass farthing for +me; the thousands of lights with their million reflections, from shop +fronts, restaurants, theatres, and illuminated signs glared pitilessly +at me. A harsh roar of derision filled the air, like the bass to the +treble of the newsboys who yelled in my face. I was wearing a fur-lined +coat--just the thing a penniless adventurer would wear. I had a valet +attending to my luggage--just the sort of thing a penniless adventurer +would have. I was driving to the Albany--just the sort of place where a +penniless adventurer would live. And London knew all this--and scoffed +at me in stony heartlessness. The only object that gave me the slightest +sympathy was Nelson on top of his column. He seemed to say, "After all, +you _can't_ feel such a fool and so much out in the cold as I do up +here." + +At Piccadilly Circus I found the same atmosphere of hostility. My cab +was blocked in the theatre-going tide, and in neighbouring vehicles +I had glimpses of fair faces above soft wraps and the profiles of +moustached young men in white ties. They assumed an aggravating air of +ownership of the blazing thoroughfare, the only gay and joyous spot +in London. I, too, had owned it once, but now I felt an alien; and the +whole spirit of Piccadilly Circus rammed the sentiment home--I was an +alien and an undesirable alien. I felt even more lost and friendless as +I entered the long, cold arcade (known as the Ropewalk) of the Albany. + +I found my sister Agatha waiting for me in the library. I had +telegraphed to her from Southampton. She was expensively dressed in grey +silk, and wore the family diamonds. We exchanged the family kiss and the +usual incoherent greetings of our race. She expressed her delight at my +restoration to health and gave me satisfactory tidings of Tom Durrell, +her husband, of the children, and of our sister Jane. Then she shook her +head at me, and made me feel like a naughty little boy. This I resented. +Being the head of the family, I had always encouraged the deferential +attitude which my sisters, dear right-minded things, had naturally +assumed from babyhood. + +"Oh, Simon, what a time you've given us!" + +She had never spoken to me like this in her life. + +"That's nothing, my dear Agatha," said I just a bit tartly, "to the +time I've given myself. I'm sorry for you, but I think you ought to be a +little sorry for me." + +"I am. More sorry than I can say. Oh, Simon, how could you?" + +"How could I what?" I cried, unwontedly regardless of the refinements of +language. + +"Mix yourself up in this dreadful affair?" + +"My dear girl," said I, "if you had got mixed up in a railway collision, +I shouldn't ask you how you managed to do it. I should be sorry for you +and feel your arms and legs and inquire whether you had sustained any +internal injuries." + +She is a pretty, spare woman with a bird-like face and soft brown hair +just turning grey; and as good-hearted a little creature as ever adored +five healthy children and an elderly baronet with disastrous views on +scientific farming. + +"Dear old boy," she said in milder accents, "I didn't mean to be +unkind. I want to be good to you and help you, so much so that I asked +Bingley"--Bingley is my housekeeper--"whether I could stay to dinner." + +"That's good of you--but this magnificence----?" + +"I'm going on later to the Foreign Office reception." + +"Then you do still mingle with the great and gorgeous?" I said. + +"What do you mean? Why shouldn't I?" + +I laughed, suspecting rightly that my sisters' social position had not +been greatly imperilled by the profligacy of their scandal-bespattered +brother. + +"What are people saying about me?" I asked suddenly. + +She made a helpless gesture. "Can't you guess? You have told us the +facts, and, of course, we believe you; we have done our best to spread +abroad the correct version--but you know what people are. If they're +told they oughtn't to believe the worst, they're disappointed and still +go on believing it so as to comfort themselves." + +"You cynical little wretch!" said I. + +"But it's true," she urged. "And, after all, even if they were well +disposed, the correct version makes considerable demands on their faith. +Even Letty Farfax--" + +"I know! I know!" said I. "Letty Farfax is typical. She would love to +be on the side of the angels, but as she wouldn't meet the best people +there, she ranges herself with the other party." + +Presently we dined, and during the meal, when the servants happened +to be out of the room, we continued, snippet-wise, the inconclusive +conversation. Like a good sister Agatha had come to cheer a lonely and +much abused man; like a daughter of Eve she had also come to find out as +much as she possibly could. + +"I think I must tell you something which you ought to know," she said. +"It's all over the town that you stole the lady from Dale Kynnersley." + +"If I did," said I, "it was at his mother's earnest entreaty. You can +tell folks that. You can also tell them Madame Brandt is not the kind +of woman to be stolen by one man from another. She is a thoroughly +virtuous, good, and noble woman, and there's not a creature living who +wouldn't be honoured by her friendship." + +As I made this announcement with an impetuosity which reminded me (with +a twinge of remorse) of poor Dale's dithyrambics, Agatha shot at me a +quick glance of apprehension. + +"But, my dear Simon, she used to act in a circus with a horse!" + +"I fail to see," said I, growing angry, "how the horse could have imbued +her with depravity, and I'm given to understand that the tone of the +circus is not quite what it used to be in the days of the Empress +Theodora." + +A ripple passed over Agatha's bare shoulders, which I knew to be a +suppressed shrug. + +"I suppose men and women look at these things differently," she +remarked, and from the stiffness of her tone I divined that the idea +of moral qualities lurking in the nature of Lola Brandt occasioned her +considerable displeasure. + +"I hope----" She paused. There was another ripple. "No. I had better not +say it. It's none of my business, after all." + +"I don't think it is, my dear," said I. + +Rogers bringing in the cutlets ended the snippet of talk. + +It was not the cheeriest of dinners. I took advantage of the next +interval of quiet to inquire after Dale. I learned that the poor boy had +almost collapsed after the election and was now yachting with young Lord +Essendale somewhere about the Hebrides. Agatha had not seen him, but +Lady Kynnersley had called on her one day in a distracted frame of mind, +bitterly reproaching me for the unhappiness of her son. I should never +have suspected that such fierce maternal love could burn beneath Lady +Kynnersley's granite exterior. She accused me of treachery towards Dale +and, most illogically, of dishonourable conduct towards herself. + +"She said things about you," said Agatha, "for which, even if they +were true, I couldn't forgive her. So that's an end of that friendship. +Indeed, it has been very difficult, Simon," she continued, "to keep +up with our common friends. It has placed us in the most painful and +delicate position. And now you're back, I'm afraid it will be worse." + +Thus under all Agatha's affection there ran the general hostility of +London. Guilty or not, I had offended her in her most deeply rooted +susceptibilities, and as yet she only knew half the imbroglio in which I +was enmeshed. Over coffee, however, she began to take a more optimistic +view of affairs. + +"After all, you'll be able to live it down," she said with a cheerful +air of patronage. "People soon forget. Before the year is out you'll +be going about just as usual, and at the General Election you'll find a +seat somewhere." + +I informed her that I had given up politics. What then, she asked, would +I do for an occupation? + +"Work for my living," I replied. + +"Work?" She arched her eyebrows, as if it were the most extraordinary +thing a man could do. "What kind of work?" + +"Road-sweeping or tax-collecting or envelope-addressing." + +She selected a cigarette from the silver box in front of her, and did +not reply until she had lit it and inhaled a puff or two. + +"I wish you wouldn't be so flippant, Simon." + +From this remark I inferred that I still was in the criminal dock before +this lady Chief Justice. I smiled at the airs the little woman gave +herself now that I was no longer the impeccable and irreproachable +dictator of the family. Mine was the experience of every fallen tyrant +since the world began. + +"My dear Agatha, I've had enough shocks during the last few weeks to +knock the flippancy out of a Congregational minister. In November I was +condemned to die within six months. The sentence was final and absolute. +I thought I would do the kind of good one can't do with a lifetime in +front of one, and I wasted all my substance in riotous giving. In the +elegant phraseology of high society I am stone-broke. As my training has +not fitted me to earn my living in high-falutin ways, I must earn it in +some humble capacity. Therefore, if you see me call at your house for +the water rate, you'll understand that I am driven to that expedient by +necessity and not by degradation." + +Naturally I had to elaborate this succinct statement before my sister +could understand its full significance. Then dismay overwhelmed her. +Surely something could be done. The fortunes of Jane and herself were +at my disposal to set me on my feet again. We were brother and sisters; +what was theirs was mine; they couldn't see me starve. I thanked her for +her affection--the dear creatures would unhesitatingly have let me play +ducks and drakes with their money, but I explained that though poor, I +was still proud and prized the independence of the tax-collector above +the position of the pensioner of Love's bounty. + +"Tom must get you something to do," she declared. + +"Tom must do nothing of the kind. Let me say that once and for all," +I returned peremptorily. "I've made my position clear to you, +because you're my sister and you ought to be spared any further +misinterpretation of my actions. But to have you dear people intriguing +after billets for me would be intolerable." + +"But what are you going to _do_?" she cried, wringing her hands. + +"I'm going for my first omnibus ride to-morrow," said I heroically. + +Upon which assertion Rogers entered announcing that her ladyship's +carriage had arrived. A while later I accompanied her downstairs and +along the arcade. + +"I shall be so miserable, thinking of you, poor old boy," she said +affectionately, as she bade me good-bye. + +"Don't, I am going to enjoy myself for the first time in my life." + +These were "prave 'orts," but I felt doleful enough when I re-entered +the chambers where I had lived in uncomplaining luxury for fourteen +years. + +"There's no help for it," I murmured. "I must get rid of the remainder +of my lease, sell my books and pictures and other more or less expensive +household goods, dismiss Rogers and Bingley, and go and live on thirty +shillings a week in a Bloomsbury boarding-house. I think," I continued, +regarding myself in the Queen Anne mirror over the mantelpiece, "I think +that it will better harmonise with my fallen fortunes if I refrain from +waxing the ends of my moustache. There ought to be a modest droop about +the moustache of a tax-collector." + +The next morning I gave my servants a months' notice. Rogers, who +had been with me for many years, behaved in the correctest manner. He +neither offered to lend me his modest savings nor to work for me for +no wages. He expressed his deep regret at leaving my service and his +confidence that I would give him a good character. Bingley wept after +the way of women. There was also a shadowy housemaidy young person in +a cap who used to make meteoric appearances and whom I left to the +diplomacy of Bingley. These dismal rites performed, I put my chambers +into the hands of a house agent and interviewed a firm of auctioneers +with reference to the sale. It was all exceedingly unpleasant. The agent +was so anxious to let my chambers, the auctioneer so delighted at the +chance of selling my effects, that I felt myself forthwith turned neck +and crop out of doors. It was a bright morning in early spring, with a +satirical touch of hope in the air. London, no longer to be my London, +maintained its hostile attitude to me. If any one had prophesied that I +should be a stranger in Piccadilly, I should have laughed aloud. Yet I +was. + +Walking moodily up Saint James's street I met the omniscient and +expansive Renniker. He gave me a curt nod and a "How d'ye do?" and +passed on. I felt savagely disposed to slash his jaunty silk hat +off with my walking-stick. A few months before he would have rushed +effusively into my arms and bedaubed me with miscellaneous inaccuracies +of information. At first I was furiously indignant. Then I laughed, and +swinging my stick, nearly wreaked my vengeance on a harmless elderly +gentleman. + +It was my first experience of social ostracism. Although I curled a +contumelious lip, I smarted under the indignity. It was all very well +to say proudly "_io son' io_"; but _io_ used to be a person of some +importance who was not cavalierly "how d'ye do'd" by creatures like +Renniker. This and the chance encounters of the next few weeks gave +me furiously to think. I knew that in one respect my sister Agatha was +right. These good folks who shied now at the stains of murder with which +my reputation was soiled would in time get used to them and eventually +forget them altogether. But I reflected that I should not forget, and +I determined that I should not be admitted on sufferance, as at first +I should have to be admitted, into any man's club or any woman's +drawing-room. + +One day Colonel Ellerton, Maisie Ellerton's father, called on me. He +used to be my very good friend; we sat on the same side of the House and +voted together on innumerable occasions in perfect sympathy and common +lack of conviction. He was cordial enough, congratulated me on my +marvellous restoration to health, deplored my absence from Parliamentary +life, and then began to talk confusedly of Russia. It took a little +perspicacity to see that something was weighing on the good man's mind; +something he had come to say and for his honest life could not get out. +His plight became more pitiable as the interview proceeded, and when he +rose to go, he grew as red as a turkey-cock and began to sputter. I went +to his rescue. + +"It's very kind of you to have come to see me, Ellerton," I said, "but +if I don't call yet awhile to pay my respects to your wife, I hope +you'll understand, and not attribute it to discourtesy." + +I have never seen relief so clearly depicted on a human countenance. He +drew a long breath and instinctively passed his handkerchief over his +forehead. Then he grasped my hand. + +"My dear fellow," he cried, "of course we'll understand. It was a +shocking affair--terrible for you. My wife and I were quite bowled over +by it." + +I did not attempt to clear myself. What was the use? Every man denies +these things as a matter of course, and as a matter of course nobody +believes him. + +Once I ran across Elphin Montgomery, a mysterious personage behind many +musical comedy enterprises. He is jewelled all over like a first-class +Hindoo idol, and is treated as a god in fashionable restaurants, +where he entertains riff-raff at sumptuous banquets. I had some slight +acquaintance with the fellow, but he greeted me as though I were a long +lost intimate--his heavy sensual face swagged in smiles--and invited me +to a supper party. I declined with courtesy and walked away in fury. He +would not have presumed to ask me to meet his riff-raff before I became +disgustingly and I suppose to some minds, fascinatingly, notorious. But +now I was hail-fellow-well-met with him, a bird of his own feather, +a rogue of his own kidney, to whom he threw open the gates of his +bediamonded and befrilled Alsatia. A pestilential fellow! As if I would +mortgage my birthright for such a mess of pottage. + +So I stiffened and bade Society high and low go packing. I would +neither seek mine own people, nor allow myself to be sought by Elphin +Montgomery's. I enwrapped myself in a fine garment of defiance. My +sister Jane, who was harder and more worldly-minded than Agatha, would +have had me don a helmet of brass and a breastplate of rhinoceros hide +and force my way through reluctant portals; but Agatha agreed with +me, clinging, however, to the hope that time would not only reconcile +Society to me, but would also reconcile me to Society. + +"If the hope comforts you, my dear Agatha," said I, "by all means +cherish it. In the meantime, allow me to observe that the character of +Ishmael is eminently suited to the profession of tax-collecting." + +During these early days of my return the one person with whom I had no +argument was Lola. She soothed where others scratched, and stimulated +where others goaded. The intimacy of my convalescence continued. At +first I acquainted her, as far as was reasonably necessary, with my +change of fortune, and accepted her offer to find me less expensive +quarters. The devoted woman personally inspected every flat in London, +with that insistence of which masculine patience is incapable, and +eventually decided on a tiny bachelor suite somewhere in the clouds over +a block of flats in Victoria Street where the service is included in the +rent. Into this I moved with such of my furniture as I withdrew from the +auctioneer's hammer, and there I prepared to stay until necessity should +drive me to the Bloomsbury boarding-house. I thought I would graduate my +descent. Before I moved, however, she came to the Albany for the first +and only time to see the splendour I was about to quit. In a modest way +it was splendour. My chambers were really a large double flat to the +tasteful furnishing of which I had devoted the thought and interest of +many years. She went with me through the rooms. The dining-room was all +Chippendale, each piece a long-coveted and hunted treasure; the library +old oak; the drawing-room a comfortable and cunning medley. There were +bits of old china, pieces of tapestry, some rare prints, my choice +collection of mezzotints, a picture or two of value--one a Lancret, a +very dear possession. And there were my books--once I had a passion +for rare bindings. Every thing had to me a personal significance, and I +hated the idea of surrender more than I dared to confess even to myself. +But I said to Lola: + +"Vanity of vanities! All things expensive are vanity!" + +Her eyes glistened and she slipped her arm through mine and patted the +back of my hand. + +"If you talk like that I shall cry and make a fool of myself," she said +in a broken manner. + +It is not so much the thing that is done or the thing that is said that +matters, but the way of doing or saying it. In the commonplace pat on +the hand, in the break in the commonplace words there was something that +went straight to my heart. I squeezed her arm and whispered: + +"Thank you, dear." + +This sympathy so sure and yet so delicately conveyed was mine for the +trouble of mounting the stairs that led to her drawing-room in Cadogan +Gardens. She seemed to be watching my heart the whole time, so that +without my asking, without my knowledge even, she could touch each sore +spot as it appeared, with the healing finger. For herself she made +no claims, and because she did not in any way declare herself to be +unhappy, I, after the manner of men, took her happiness for granted. For +lives there a man who does not believe that an uncomplaining woman has +nothing to complain of? It is his masculine prerogative of density. +Besides, does not he himself when hurt bellow like a bull? Why, +he argues, should not wounded woman do the same? So, when I wanted +companionship, I used to sit in the familiar room and make Adolphus, the +Chow dog, shoulder arms with the poker, and gossip restfully with Lola, +who sprawled in her old languorous, loose-limbed way among the cushions +of her easy chair. Gradually my habitual reserve melted from me, and +at last I gave her my whole confidence, telling her of my disastrous +pursuit of eumoiriety, of Eleanor Faversham, of the attitude of Society, +in fact, of most of what I have set down in the preceding pages. She was +greatly interested in everything, especially in Eleanor Faversham. She +wanted to know the colour of her eyes and hair and how she dressed. +Women are odd creatures. + +The weeks passed. + +Besides ministering to my dilapidated spirit, Lola found occupation in +looking after the cattery of Anastasius Papadopoulos, which the little +man had left in the charge of his pupil and assistant, Quast. This +Quast apparently was a faithful, stolid, but unintelligent and incapable +German who had remained loyally at his post until Lola found him there +in a state of semi-starvation. The sum of money with which Anastasius +had provided him had been eked out to the last farthing. The cats were +in a pitiable condition. Quast, in despair, was trying to make up his +dull mind whether to sell them or eat them. Lola with superb feminine +disregard of legal rights, annexed the whole cattery, maintained Quast +in his position of pupil and assistant and informed the landlord that +she would be responsible for the rent. Then she set to work to bring the +cats into their proper condition of sleekness, and, that done, to put +them through a systematic course of training. They had been thoroughly +demoralised, she declared, under Quast's maladministration, and had +almost degenerated into the unhistrionic pussies of domestic life. As +for Hephaestus, the great ferocious tom, he was more like an insane +tiger than a cat. He flew at the gate over which he used to jump, +and clawed and bit it to matchwood, and after spitting in fury at +the blazing hoop, sprang at the unhappy Quast as if he had been the +contriver of the indignities to which he was being subjected. These +tales of feline backsliding I used to hear from Lola, and when I asked +her why she devoted her energies to the unproductive education of the +uninspiring animals, she would shrug her shoulders and regard me with a +Giaconda smile. + +"In the first place it amuses me. You seem to forget I'm a _dompteuse_, +a tamer of beasts; it's my profession, I was trained to it. It's the +only thing I can do, and it's good to feel that I haven't lost my power. +It's odd, but I feel a different woman when I'm impressing my will +on these wretched cats. You must come one of these days and see a +performance, when I've got them ship-shape. They'll astonish you. And +then," she would add, "I can write to Anastasius and tell him how his +beloved cats are getting on." + +Well, it was an interest in her life which, Heaven knows, was not +crowded with exciting incidents. Now that I can look back on these +things with a philosophic eye, I can imagine no drearier existence than +that of a friendless, unoccupied woman in a flat in Cadogan Gardens. At +that time, I did not realise this as completely as I might have done. +Because her old surgeon friend, Sir Joshua Oldfield, now and then took +her out to dinner, I considered she was leading a cheerful if not a +merry life. I smiled indulgently at Lola's devotion to the cats and +congratulated her on having found another means whereby to beguile the +_tedium vitae_ which is the arch-enemy of content. + +"I wish I could find such a means myself," said I. + +I not only had the wish, but the imperative need to so do. To stand like +Ajax defying the lightning is magnificent, but as a continuous avocation +it is wearisome and unprofitable, especially if carried on in a tiny +bachelor suite, an eyrie of a place, at the top of a block of flats in +Victoria Street. Indeed, if I did not add soon to the meagre remains of +my fortune, I should not be able to afford the luxury of the bachelor +suite. Conscious of this, I left the lightning alone, after a last +denunciatory shake of the fist, and descended into the busy ways of men +to look for work. + +Thus I entered on the second stage of my career--that of a soldier +of Fortune. At first I was doubtful as to what path to glory and +bread-and-butter I could carve out for myself. Hitherto I had been +Fortune's darling instead of her mercenary, and she had most politely +carved out my paths for me, until she had played her jade's trick +and left me in the ditch. Now things were different. I stood alone, +ironical, ambitionless, still questioning the utility of human effort, +yet determined to play the game of life to its bitter end. What could I +do? + +It is true that I had been called to the Bar in my tentative youth, +while I drafted documents for my betters to pull to pieces and rewrite +at the Foreign Office; but I had never seen a brief, and my memories +of Gaius, Justinian, Williams's "Real Property," and Austin's +"Jurisprudence," were as nebulous as those of the Differential Calculus +over whose facetiae I had pondered during my schooldays. The law was as +closed to me as medicine. I had no profession. I therefore drifted +into the one pursuit for which my training had qualified me, namely, +political journalism. I had written much, in my amateur way, during my +ten years' membership of Parliament; why, I hardly know--not because I +needed money, not because I had thoughts which I burned to express, and +certainly not through vain desire of notoriety. Perhaps the motive was +twofold, an ingrained Puckish delight in the incongruous--it seemed +incongruous for an airy epicurean like myself to spend stodgy +hours writing stodgier articles on Pauper Lunacy and Poor Law +Administration--and the same inherited sense of gentlemanly obligation +to do something for one's king and country as made my ancestors, whether +they liked it or not, clothe themselves in uncomfortable iron garments +and go about fighting other gentlemen similarly clad, to their own great +personal danger. At any rate, it complemented my work at St. Stephen's, +and doubtless contributed to a reputation in the House which I did +not gain through my oratory. I could therefore bring to editors the +stock-in-trade of a fairly accurate knowledge of current political +issues, an appreciation of personalities, and a philosophical subrident +estimate of the bubbles that are for ever rising on the political +surface. I found Finch of _The Universal Review_, James of _The Weekly_, +and one or two others more than willing to give me employment. I put my +pen also at the disposal of Raggles. It was as uplifting and about as +mechanical as tax-collecting; but it involved less physical exertion and +less unpleasant contact with my fellow creatures. I could also keep the +ends of my moustache waxed, which was a great consolation. + +My sister Agatha commended my courage and energy, and Lola read my +articles with a glowing enthusiasm, which compensated for lack of exact +understanding; but I was not proud of my position. It is one thing +to stand at the top of a marble staircase and in a debonair, jesting +fashion to fling insincere convictions to a recipient world. It is +another to sell the same worthless commodity for money. I began, to my +curious discomfort, to suspect that life had a meaning after all. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +One day I had walked from Cadogan Gardens with a gadfly phrase of Lola's +tormenting my ears: + +"You're not quite alive even yet." + +I had spent most of the day over a weekly article for James's high-toned +periodical, using the same old shibboleths, proclaiming Gilead to be the +one place for balm, juggling with the same old sophistries, and proving +that Pope must have been out of his mind when he declared that an honest +man was the noblest work of God, seeing that nobler than the most honest +man was the disingenuous government held up to eulogy; and I had gone +tired, dispirited, out of conceit with myself to Lola for tea and +consolation. I had not been the merriest company. I had spoken gloomily +of the cosmos, and when Adolphus the Chow dog had walked down the room +in his hind legs, I had railed at the futility of canine effort. To +Lola, who had put forth all her artillery of artless and harmless +coquetry in voice and gesture, in order to lure my thoughts into +pleasanter ways, I exhibited the querulous grumpiness of a spoiled +village octogenarian. We discussed the weather, which was worth +discussing, for the spring, after long tarrying, had come. It was early +May. Lola laughed. + +"The spring has got into my blood." + +"It hasn't got into mine," I declared. "It never will. I wonder what the +deuce is the matter with me." + +Then Lola had said, "My dear Simon, I know. You're not quite alive even +yet." + +I walked homewards pestered by the phrase. What did she mean by it? +I stopped at the island round the clock-tower by Victoria Station and +bought a couple of newspapers. There, in the centre of the whirlpool +where swam dizzily omnibuses, luggage-laden cabs, whirling motors, +feverish, train-seeking humans, dirty newsboys, I stood absently saying +to myself, "You're not quite alive even yet." + +A hand gripped my arm and a cheery voice said "Hallo!" I started and +recognised Rex Campion. I also said "Hallo!" and shook hands with him. +We had not met since the days when, having heard of my Monte Cristo +lavishness, he had called at the Albany and had beguiled me into giving +a thousand pounds to his beloved "Barbara's Building," the prodigious +philanthropic institution which he had founded in the slums of South +Lambeth. In spite of my dead and dazed state of being I was pleased to +see his saturnine black-bearded face, and to hear his big voice. He was +one of those men who always talked like a megaphone. The porticoes of +Victoria Station re-echoed with his salutations. I greeted him less +vociferously, but with equal cordiality. + +"You're looking very fit. I head that you had gone through a miraculous +operation. How are you?" + +"Perfectly well," said I, "but I've been told that I'm not quite alive +even yet." + +He looked anxious. "Remains of trouble?" + +"Not a vestige," I laughed. + +"That's all right," he said breezily. "Now come along and hear Milligan +speak." + +It did not occur to him that I might have work, worries, or engagements, +or that the evening's entertainment which he offered me might be the +last thing I should appreciate. His head, for the moment, was full +of Milligan, and it seemed to him only natural that the head of all +humanity should be full of Milligan too. I made a wry face. + +"That son of thunder?" + +Milligan was a demagogue who had twice unsuccessfully attempted to get +into Parliament in the Labour interest. + +"Have you ever heard him?" + +"Heaven forbid!" said I in my pride. + +"Then come. He's speaking in the Hall of the Lambeth Biblical Society." + +I was tempted, as I wanted company. In spite of my high resolve to +out-Ishmael Ishmael, I could not kill a highly developed gregarious +instinct. I also wanted a text for an article. But I wanted my dinner +still more. Campion condemned the idea of dinner. + +"You can have a cold supper," he roared, "like the rest of us." + +I yielded. Campion dragged me helpless to a tram at the top of Vauxhall +Bridge Road. + +"It will do Your Mightiness good to mingle with the proletariat," he +grinned. + +I did not tell him that I had been mingling with it in this manner +for some time past or that I repudiated the suggestion of its benign +influence. I entered the tram meekly. As soon as we were seated, he +began: + +"I bet you won't guess what I've done with your thousand pounds. I'll +give you a million guesses." + +As I am a poor conjecturer, I put on a blank expression and shook my +head. He waited for an instant, and then shouted with an air of triumph: + +"I've founded a prize, my boy--a stroke of genius. I've called it by +your name. 'The de Gex Prize for Housewives.' I didn't bother you about +it as I knew you were in a world of worry. But just think of it. +An annual prize of thirty pounds--practically the interest--for +housewives!" + +His eyes flashed in his enthusiasm; he brought his heavy hand down on my +knee. + +"Well?" I asked, not electrified by this announcement. + +"Don't you see?" he exclaimed. "I throw the competition open to the +women in the district, with certain qualifications, you know--I look +after all that. They enter their names by a given date and then they +start fair. The woman who keeps her home tidiest and her children +cleanest collars the prize. Isn't it splendid?" + +I agreed. "How many competitors?" + +"Forty-three. And there they are working away, sweeping their floors and +putting up clean curtains and scrubbing their children's noses till they +shine like rubies and making their homes like little Dutch pictures. You +see, thirty pounds is a devil of a lot of money for poor people. As one +mother of a large family said to me, 'With that one could bury them all +quite beautiful.'" + +"You're a wonderful fellow," said I, somewhat enviously. + +He gave an awkward laugh and tugged at his beard. + +"I've only happened to find my job, and am doing it as well as I can," +he said. "'Tisn't very much, after all. Sometimes one gets discouraged; +people are such ungrateful pigs, but now and again one does help a lame +dog over a stile which bucks one up, you know. Why don't you come down +and have a look at us one of these days? You've been promising to do so +for years." + +"I will," said I with sudden interest. + +"You can have a peep at one or two of the competing homes. We pop into +them unexpectedly at all hours. That's a part of the game. We've a +complicated system of marks which I'll show you. Of course, no woman +knows how she's getting on, otherwise many would lose heart." + +"How do the men like this disconcerting ubiquity of soap and water?" + +"They love it!" he cried. "They're keen on the prize too. Some think +they'll grab the lot and have the devil's own drunk when the year's up. +But I'll look after that. Besides, when a chap has been living in the +pride of cleanliness for a year he'll get into the way of it and be less +likely to make a beast of himself. Anyway, I hope for the best. My God, +de Gex, if I didn't hope and hope and hope," he cried earnestly, "I +don't know how I should get through anything without hope and a faith in +the ultimate good of things." + +"The same inconvincible optimist?" said I. + +"Yes. Thank heaven. And you?" + +I paused. There came a self-revelatory flash. "At the present moment," I +said, "I'm a perfectly convincible vacuist." + +We left the tram and the main thoroughfare, and turned into frowsy +streets, peopled with frowsy men and women and raucous with the +bickering play of frowsy children. It was still daylight. Over London +the spring had fluttered its golden pinions, and I knew that in more +blessed quarters--in the great parks, in Piccadilly, in Old Palace +Yard, half a mile away--its fragrance lingered, quickening blood already +quickened by hope, and making happier hearts already happy. But here the +ray of spring had never penetrated either that day or the days of former +springs; so there was no lingering fragrance. Here no one heeded the +aspects of the changing year save when suffocated by sweltering heat, or +frozen in the bitter cold, or drenched by the pouring rain. Otherwise in +these gray, frowsy streets spring, summer, autumn, winter were all the +same to the grey, frowsy people. It is true that youth laughed--pale, +animal boys, and pale, flat-chested girls. But it laughed chiefly at +inane obscenity. + +One of these days, when phonography is as practicable as photography, +some one will make accurate records in these frowsy streets, and then, +after the manner of the elegant writers of Bucolics and Pastorals, +publish such a series of Urbanics and Pavimentals, phonographic +dialogues between the Colins and Dulcibellas of the pavement and the +gutter as will freeze up Hell with horror. + +An anemic, flirtatious group passed us, the girls in front, the boys +behind. + +"Good God, Campion, what _can_ you do?" I asked. + +"Pay them, old chap," he returned quickly. + +"What's the good of that?" + +"Good? Oh, I see!" He laughed, with a touch of scorn. "It's a question +of definition. When you see a fellow creature suffering and it shocks +your refined susceptibilities and you say 'poor devil' and pass on, you +think you have pitied him. But you haven't. You think pity's a passive +virtue. It isn't. If you really pity anybody, you go mad to help +him--you don't stand by with tears of sensibility running down your +cheeks. You stretch out your hand, because you've damn well got to. If +he won't take it, or wipes you over the head, that's his look-out. You +can't work miracles. But once in a way he does take it, and then--well, +you work like hell to pull him through. And if you do, what bigger thing +is there in the world than the salvation of a human soul?" + +"It's worth living for," said I. + +"It's worth doing any confounded old thing for," he declared. + +I envied Campion as I had envied no man before. He was alive in heart +and soul and brain; I was not quite alive even yet. But I felt better +for meeting him. I told him so. He tugged his beard again and laughed. + +"I am a happy old crank. Perhaps that's the reason." + +At the door of the hall of the Lambeth Ethical Society he stopped short +and turned on me; his jaw dropped and he regarded me in dismay. + +"I'm the flightiest and feather-headedest ass that ever brayed," he +informed me. "I just remember I sent Miss Faversham a ticket for +this meeting about a fortnight ago. I had clean forgotten it, though +something uncomfortable has been tickling the back of my head all the +time. I'm miserably sorry." + +I hastened to reassure him. "Miss Faversham and I are still good +friends. I don't think she'll mind my nodding to her from the other side +of the room." Indeed, she had written me one or two letters since my +recovery perfect in tact and sympathy, and had put her loyal friendship +at my service. + +"Even if we meet," I smiled, "nothing tragic will happen." + +He expressed his relief. + +"But what," I asked, "is Miss Faversham doing in this galley?" + +"I suppose she is displaying an intelligent interest in modern thought," +he said, with boyish delight at the chance I had offered him. + +"_Touche_," said I, with a bow, and we entered the hall. + +It was crowded. The audience consisted of the better class of artisans, +tradesmen, and foremen in factories: there was a sprinkling of +black-coated clerks and unskilled labouring men. A few women's hats +sprouted here and there among the men's heads like weeds in a desert. +There were women, too, in proportionately greater numbers, on the +platform at the end of the hall, and among them I was quick to notice +Eleanor Faversham. As Campion disliked platforms and high places in +synagogues, we sat on one of the benches near the door. He explained it +was also out of consideration for me. + +"If Milligan is too strong for your proud, aristocratic stomach," he +whispered, "you can cut and run without attracting attention." + +Milligan had evidently just began his discourse. I had not listened to +him for five minutes when I found myself caught in the grip which he was +famous for fastening on his audience. With his subject--Nationalisation +of the Land--and his arguments I had been perfectly familiar for years. +As a boy I had read Henry George's "Progress and Poverty" with the +superciliousness of the young believer in the divine right of Britain's +landed gentry, and before the Eton Debating Society I had demolished the +whole theory to my own and every one else's satisfaction. Later, as +a practical politician, I had kept myself abreast of the Socialist +movement. I did not need Mr. John Milligan, whom my lingering flippancy +had called a son of thunder, to teach me the elements of the matter. But +at this peculiar crisis of my life I felt that, in a queer, unknown way, +Milligan had a message for me. It was uncanny. I sat and listened to +the exposition of Utopia with the rapt intensity of any cheesemonger's +assistant there before whose captured spirit floated the vision of days +to come when the land should so flow with milk and money that golden +cheeses would be like buttercups for the plucking. It was not the man's +gospel that fascinated me nor his illuminated prophecy of the millennium +that produced the vibrations in my soul, but the surging passion of his +faith, the tempest of his enthusiasm. I had enough experience of public +speaking to distinguish between the theatrical and the genuine in +oratory. Here was no tub-thumping soothsayer, but an inspired zealot. He +lived his impassioned creed in every fibre of his frame and faculties. +He was Titanic, this rough miner, in his unconquerable hope, divine in +his yearning love of humanity. + +When he ended there was a dead silence for a second, and then a roar of +applause from the pale, earnest, city-stamped faces. A lump rose in my +throat. Campion clutched my knee. A light burned in his eyes. + +"Well? What about Boanerges?" + +"Only one thing," said I, "I wish I were as alive as that man." + +A negligible person proposed a vote of thanks to Milligan, after which +the hall began to empty. Campion, caught by a group of his proletariat +friends, signalled to me to wait for him. And as I waited I saw Eleanor +Faversham come slowly from the platform down the central gangway. Her +eyes fixed themselves on me at once--for standing there alone I must +have been a conspicuous figure, an intruder from the gorgeous West--and +with a little start of pleasure she hurried her pace. I made my way past +the chattering loiterers in my row, and met her. We shook hands. + +"Well? Saul among the prophets? Who would have thought of seeing you +here!" + +I waved my hand towards Campion. "We have the same sponsor." She glanced +at him for a swift instant and then at me. + +"Did you like it?" + +"Have you seen Niagara?" + +"Yes." + +"Did you like it?" + +"I'm so glad," she cried. "I thought perhaps----" she broke off. "Why +haven't you tried to see me?" + +"There are certain conventions." + +"I know," she said. "They're idiotic." + +"There's also Mrs. Faversham," said I. + +"Mother is the dearest thing in life," she replied, "but Mrs. Faversham +is a convention." She came nearer to me, in order to allow a freer +passage down the gangway and also in order to be out of earshot of an +elderly woman who was obviously accompanying her. "Simon, I've been a +good friend to you. I believe in you. Nothing will shake my convictions. +You couldn't look into my eyes like that if--well--you know." + +"I couldn't," said I. + +"Then why can't two honourable, loyal people meet? We only need meet +once. But I want to tell you things I can't write--things I can't +say here. I also want to hear of things. I think I've got a kind of +claim--haven't I?" + +"I've told you, Eleanor. My letters--" + +"Letters are rubbish!" she declared with a laugh. "Where can we meet?" + +"Agatha is a good soul," said I. + +"Well, fix it up by telephone to-morrow." + +"Alas!" said I; "I don't run to telephones in my eagle's nest on +Himalaya Mansions." + +She knitted her brows. "That's not the last address you wrote from." + +"No," I replied, smiling at this glimpse of the matter-of-fact Eleanor. +"It was a joke." + +"You're incorrigible!" she said rebukingly. + +"I don't joke so well in rags as in silken motley," I returned with a +smile, "but I do my best." + +She disdained a retort. "We'll arrange, anyhow, with Agatha." + +Campion, escaping from his friends, came up and chatted for a minute. +Then he saw Eleanor and her companion to their carriage. + +"Now," said he a moment later, "come to Barbara and have some supper. +You won't mind if Jenkins joins us?" + +"Who's Jenkins?" I asked. + +"Jenkins is an intelligent gas-fitter of Sociological tastes. He classes +Herbert Spencer, Benjamin Kidd, and Lombroso as light literature. He +also helps us with our young criminals. I should like you to meet him." + +"I should be delighted," I said. + +So Jenkins was summoned from a little knot a few yards off and duly +presented. Whereupon we proceeded to Campion's plain but comfortably +furnished quarters in Barbara's Building, where he entertained us till +nearly midnight with cold beef and cheese and strenuous conversation. + +As I walked across Westminster Bridge on my homeward way it seemed as +if London had grown less hostile. Big Ben chimed twelve and there was a +distinct Dick Whittington touch about the music. The light on the +tower no longer mocked me. As I passed by the gates of Palace Yard, +a policeman on duty recognised me and saluted. I strode on with a +springier tread and noticed that the next policeman who did not know me, +still regarded me with an air of benevolence. A pale moon shone in the +heavens and gave me shyly to understand that she was as much my moon as +any one else's. As I turned into Victoria Street, omnibuses passed +me with a lurch of friendliness. The ban was lifted. I danced +(figuratively) along the pavement. + +What it portended I did not realise. I was conscious of nothing but a +spiritual exhilaration comparable only with the physical exhilaration +I experienced in the garden at Algiers when my bodily health had been +finally established. As the body then felt the need of expressing itself +in violent action--in leaping and running (an impulse which I firmly +subdued), so now did my spirit crave some sort of expression in violent +emotion. I was in a mood for enraptured converse with an archangel. + +Looking back, I see that Campion's friendly "Hallo" had awakened me from +a world of shadows and set me among realities; the impact of Milligan's +vehement personality had changed the conditions of my life from static +to dynamic; and that a Providence which is not always as ironical as +it pleases us to assert had sent Eleanor Faversham's graciousness to +mitigate the severity of the shock. I see how just was Lola's diagnosis. +"You're not quite alive even yet." I had been going about in a state of +suspended spiritual animation. + +My recovery dated from that evening. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +Agatha proved herself the good soul I had represented her to be. + +"Certainly, dear," she said when I came the following morning with my +request. "You can have my boudoir all to yourselves." + +"I am grateful," said I, "and for the first time I forgive you for +calling it by that abominable name." + +It was an old quarrel between us. Every lover of language picks out +certain words in common use that he hates with an unreasoning ferocity. + +"I'll change it's title if you like," she said meekly. + +"If you do, my dear Agatha, my gratitude will be eternal." + +"I remember a certain superior person, when Tom and I were engaged, +calling mother's boudoir--the only quiet place in the house--the +osculatorium." + +She laughed with the air of a small bird who after long waiting had at +last got even with a hawk. But I did not even smile. For the only time +in our lives I considered that Agatha had committed a breach of good +taste. I said rather stiffly: + +"It is not going to be a lovers' meeting, my dear." + +She flushed. "It was silly of me. But why shouldn't it be a lovers' +meeting?" she added audaciously. "If nothing had happened, you two would +have been married by this time--" + +"Not till June." + +"Oh, yes, you would. I should have seen about that--a ridiculously long +engagement. Anyhow, it was only your illness that broke it off. You were +told you were going to die. You did the only honourable and sensible +thing--both of you. Now you're in splendid health again--" + +"Stop, stop!" I interrupted. "You seem to be entirely oblivious of the +circumstances--" + +"I'm oblivious of no circumstances. Neither is Eleanor. And if she still +cares for you she won't care twopence for the circumstances. I know I +wouldn't." + +And to cut off my reply she clapped the receiver of the telephone to her +ear and called up Eleanor, with whom she proceeded to arrange a date for +the interview. Presently she screwed her head round. + +"She says she can come at four this afternoon. Will that suit you?" + +"Perfectly," said I. + +When she replaced the receiver I stepped behind her and put my hands on +her shoulders. + +"'The mother of mischief,'" I quoted, "'is no bigger than a midge's +wing,' and the grandmother is the match-making microbe that lurks in +every woman's system." + +She caught one of my hands and looked up into my face. + +"You're not cross with me, Simon?" + +Her tone was that of the old Agatha. I laughed, remembering the +policeman's salute of the previous night, and noted this recovery of +my ascendancy as another indication of the general improvement in the +attitude of London. + +"Of course not, Tom Tit," said I, calling her by her nursery name. "But +I absolutely forbid your thinking of playing Fairy Godmother." + +"You can forbid my playing," she laughed, "and I can obey you. But you +can't prevent my thinking. Thought is free." + +"Sometimes, my dear," I retorted, "it is better chained up." + +With this rebuke I left her. No doubt, she considered a renewal of my +engagement with Eleanor Faversham a romantic solution of difficulties. +I could only regard it as preposterous, and as I walked back to Victoria +Street I convinced myself that Eleanor's frank offer of friendship +proved that such an idea never entered her head. I took vehement pains +to convince myself Spring had come; like the year, I had awakened from +my lethargy. I viewed life through new eyes; I felt it with a new heart. +Such vehement pains I was not capable of taking yesterday. + +"It has never entered her head!" I declared conclusively. + +And yet, as we sat together a few hours later in Agatha's little room a +doubt began to creep into the corners of my mind. In her strong way +she had brushed away the scandal that hung around my name. She did not +believe a word of it. I told her of my loss of fortune. My lunacy +rather raised than lowered me in her esteem. How then was I personally +different from the man she had engaged herself to marry six months +before? I remembered our parting. I remembered her letters. Her presence +here was proof of her unchanging regard. But was it something more? Was +there a hope throbbing beneath that calm sweet surface to which I did +not respond? For it often happens that the more direct a woman is, the +more in her feminine heart is she elusive. + +Clean-built, clean-hearted, clean-eyed, of that clean complexion which +suggests the open air, Eleanor impressed you with a sense of bodily and +mental wholesomeness. Her taste in dress ran in the direction of plain +tailor-made gowns (I am told, by the way, that these can be fairly +expensive), and shrank instinctively from the frills and fripperies to +which daughters of Eve are notoriously addicted. She spoke in a clear +voice which some called hard, though I never found it so; she carried +herself proudly. Chaste in thought, frank in deed, she was a perfect +specimen of the highly bred, purely English type of woman who, looking +at facts squarely in the face, accepts them as facts and does not allow +her imagination to dally in any atmosphere wherein they may be invested. +To this type a vow is irrefragable. Loyalty is inherent in her like +her blood. She never changes. What feminine inconsistencies she had +at fifteen she retains at five-and-twenty, and preserves to add to the +charms of her old age. She is the exemplary wife, the great-hearted +mother of children. She has sent her sons in thousands to fight her +country's battles overseas. Those things which lie in the outer temper +of her soul she gives lavishly. That which is hidden in her inner shrine +has to be wrested from her by the one hand she loves. Was mine that +hand? + +It will be perceived that I was beginning to take life seriously. + +Eleanor must have also perceived something of the sort; for during our +talk she said irrelevantly: + +"You've changed!" + +"In what way?" I asked. + +"I don't know. You're not the same as you were. I seem to know you +better in some ways, and yet I seem to know you less. Why is it?" + +I said, "No one can go through the Valley of the Grotesque as I have +done without suffering some change." + +"I don't see why you should call it 'the Valley of the Grotesque.'" + +I smiled at her instinctive rejection of the fanciful. + +"Don't you? Call it the Valley of the Shadow, if you like. But don't +you think the attendant circumstances were rather mediaeval, gargoyley, +Orcagnesque? Don't you think the whole passage lacked the dignity which +one associates with the Valley of the Shadow of Death?" + +"You mean the murder?" she said with a faint shiver. + +"That," said I, "might be termed the central feature. Just look at +things as they happened. I am condemned to death. I try to face it like +a man and a gentleman. I make my arrangements. I give up what I can call +mine no longer. I think I will devote the rest of my days to performing +such acts of helpfulness and charity as would be impossible for a sound +man with a long life before him to undertake. I do it in a half-jesting +spirit, refusing to take death seriously. I pledge myself to an act of +helpfulness which I regard at first as merely an incident in my career +of beneficence. I am gradually caught in the tangle of a drama which at +times develops into sheer burlesque, and before I can realise what is +going to happen, it turns into ghastly tragedy. I am overwhelmed in +grotesque disaster--it is the only word. Instead of creating happiness +all around me, I have played havoc with human lives. I stand on the +brink and look back and see that it is all one gigantic devil-jest at +my expense. I thank God I am going to die. I do die--for practical +purposes. I come back to life and--here I am. Can I be quite the same +person I was a year ago?" + +She reflected for a few moments. Then she said: + +"No. You can't be--quite the same. A man of your nature would either +have his satirical view of life hardened into bitter cynicism or he +would be softened by suffering and face things with new and nobler +ideals. He would either still regard life as a jest--but instead of its +being an odd, merry jest it would be a grim, meaningless, hideous one; +or he would see that it wasn't a jest at all, but a full, wonderful, big +reality. I've expressed myself badly, but you see what I mean." + +"And what do you think has happened?" I asked. + +"I think you have changed for the better." + +I smiled inwardly. It sounded rather dull. I said with a smile: + +"You never liked my cap and bells, Eleanor." + +"No!" she replied emphatically. "What's the use of mockery? See where it +led you." + +I rose, half-laughing at her earnestness, half-ashamed of myself, and +took a couple of turns across the room. + +"You're right," I cried. "It led me to perdition. You might make an +allegory out of my career and entitle it 'The Mocker's Progress.'" I +paused for a second or two, and then said suddenly, "Why did you from +the first refuse to believe what everybody else does--before I had the +chance of looking you in the eyes?" + +She averted her face. "You forget that I had had the chance of searching +deep beneath the mocker." + +I cannot, in reverence to her, set down what she said she found there. I +stood humbled and rebuked, as a man must do when the best in him is laid +out before his sight by a good woman. + +A maidservant brought in tea, set the table, and departed, Eleanor drew +off her gloves and my glance fell on her right hand. + +"It's good of you to wear my ring to-day," I said. + +"To-day?" she echoed, with the tiniest touch of injury in her voice. "Do +you think I put it on to just please you to-day?" + +"It would have been gracious of you to do so," said I. + +"It wouldn't," she declared. "It would have been mawkish and +sentimental. When we parted I told you to do what you liked with the +ring. Do you remember? You put it on this finger"--she waved her right +hand--"and there it has stayed ever since." + +I caught the hand and touched it lightly with my lips. She coloured +faintly. + +"Two lumps of sugar and no milk, I think that's right?" She handed me +the tea-cup. + +"It's like you not to have forgotten." + +"I'm a practical person," she replied with a laugh. + +Presently she said, "Tell me more about your illness--or rather your +recovery. I know nothing except that you had a successful operation +which all the London surgeons said was impossible. Who nursed you?" + +"I had a trained nurse," said I. + +"Wasn't Madame Brandt with you?" + +"Yes," said I. "She was very good to me. In fact, I think I owe her my +life." + +Hitherto the delicacy of the situation had caused me to refer to Lola +no more than was necessary, and in my narrative I had purposely left her +vague. + +"That's a great debt," said Eleanor. + +"It is, indeed." + +"You're not the man to leave such a debt unpaid?" + +"I try to repay it by giving Madame Brandt my devoted friendship." + +Her eyes never wavered as they held mine. + +"That's one of the things I wanted to know. Tell me something about +her." + +I felt some surprise, as Eleanor was of a nature too proud for +curiosity. + +"Why do you want to know?" + +"Because she interests me intensely. Is she young?" + +"About thirty-two." + +"Good-looking?" + +"She is a woman of remarkable personality." + +"Describe her." + +I tried, stumbled, and halted. The effort evoked in my mind a picture +of Lola lithe, seductive, exotic, with gold flecks in her dusky, melting +eyes, with strong shapely arms that had as yet only held me motherwise, +with her pantherine suggestion of tremendous strength in languorous +repose, with her lazy gestures and parted lips showing the wonderful +white even teeth, with all her fascination and charm--a picture of Lola +such as I had not seen since my emergence from the Valley--a picture of +Lola, generous, tender, wistful, strong, yielding, fragrant, lovable, +desirable, amorous--a picture of Lola which I could not put before this +other woman equally brave and straight, who looked at me composedly out +of her calm, blue eyes. + +My description resolved itself into a loutish catalogue. + +"It is not painful to you to talk of her, Simon?" + +"Not at all. There are not many great-hearted women going about. It is +my privilege to know two." + +"Am I the other?" + +"Who else?" + +"I'm glad you have the courage to class Madame Brandt and myself +together." + +"Why?" I asked. + +"It proves beyond a doubt that you are honest with me. Now tell me +about a few externals--things that don't matter--but help one to form an +impression. Is she educated?" + +"From books, no; from observation, yes." + +"Her manners?" + +"Observation had educated them." + +"Accent?" + +"She is sufficiently polyglot to have none." + +"She dresses and talks and behaves generally like a lady?" + +"She does," said I. + +"In what way then does she differ from the women of our class?" + +"She is less schooled, less reticent, franker, more natural. What is on +her tongue to say, she says." + +"Temper?" + +"I have never heard her say an angry word to or of a human creature. She +has queer delicacies of feeling. For instance----" + +I told her of Anastasius Papadopoulos's tawdry, gimcrack presents which +Lola has suffered to remain in her drawing-room so as not to hurt the +poor little wretch. + +"That's very touching. Where does she live?" + +"She has a flat in Cadogan Gardens." + +"Is she in London now?" + +"Yes." + +"I should like very much to know her," she said calmly. + +I vow and declare again that the more straightforward and open-eyed, the +less subtle, temperamental, and neurotic are women, the more are they +baffling. I had wondered for some time whither the catechism tended, +and now, with a sudden jerk, it stopped short at this most unexpected +terminus. It was startling. I rose and mechanically placed my empty +tea-cup on the tray by her side. + +"The wish, my dear Eleanor," said I, quite formally, "does great credit +to your heart." + +There was a short pause, marking an automatic close of the subject. +Deeply as I admired both women, I shrank from the idea of their meeting. +It seemed curiously indelicate, in view both of my former engagement +to Eleanor and of Lola's frank avowal of her feelings towards me before +what I shall always regard as my death. It is true that we had never +alluded to it since my resurrection; but what of that? Lola's feelings, +I was sure, remained unaltered. It also flashed on me that, with all the +goodwill in the world, Eleanor would not understand Lola. An interview +would develop into a duel. I pictured it for a second, and my sudden +fierce partisanship for Lola staggered me. Decidedly an acquaintance +between these two was preposterous. + +The silence was definite enough to mark a period, but not long enough to +cause embarrassment. Eleanor commented on my present employment. I must +find it good to get back to politics. + +"I find it to the contrary," said I, with a laugh. "My convictions, +always lukewarm, are now stone-cold. I don't say that the principles of +the party are wrong. But they're wrong for me, which is all-important. +If they are not right for me, what care I how right they be? And as I +don't believe in those of the other side, I'm going to give up politics +altogether." + +"What will you do?" + +"I don't know. I honestly don't. But I have an insistent premonition +that I shall soon find myself doing something utterly idiotic, which to +me will be the most real thing in life." + +I had indeed awakened that morning with an exhilarating thrill of +anticipation, comparable to that of the mountain climber who knows not +what panorama of glory may be disclosed to his eyes when he reaches the +summit. I had whistled in my bath--a most unusual thing. + +"Are you going to turn Socialist?" + +"_Qui lo sa_? I'm willing to turn anything alive and honest. It doesn't +matter what a man professes so long as he professes it with all the +faith of all his soul." + +I broke into a laugh, for the echo of my words rang comic in my ears. + +"Why do you laugh?" she asked. + +"Don't you think it funny to hear me talk like a two-penny Carlyle?" + +"Not a bit," she said seriously. + +"I can't undertake to talk like that always," I said warningly. + +"I thought you said you were going to be serious." + +"So I am--but platitudinous--Heaven forbid!" + +The little clock on the mantelpiece struck six. Eleanor rose in alarm. + +"How the time has flown! I must be getting back. Well?" + +Our eyes met. "Well?" said I. + +"Are we ever to meet again?" + +"It's for you to say." + +"No," she said. And then very distinctly, very deliberately, "It's for +you." + +I understood. She made the offer simply, nobly, unreservedly. My heart +was filled with great gratitude. She was so true, so loyal, so thorough. +Why could I not take her at her word? I murmured: + +"I'll remember what you say." + +She put out her hand. "Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye and God bless you!" I said. + +I accompanied her to the front door, hailed a passing cab, and waited +till she had driven off. Was there ever a sweeter, grander, more loyal +woman? The three little words had changed the current of my being. + +I returned to take leave of Agatha. I found her in the drawing-room +reading a novel. She twisted her head sideways and regarded me with a +bird-like air of curiosity. + +"Eleanor gone?" + +Her tone jarred on me. I nodded and dropped into a chair. + +"Interview passed off satisfactorily?" + +"We were quite comfortable, thank you. The only drawback was the tea. +Why a woman in your position can't give people China tea instead of that +Ceylon syrup will be a mystery to me to my dying day." + +She rose in her wrath and shook me. + +"You're the most aggravating wretch on earth!" + +"My dear Tom-Tit," said I gravely. "Remember the moral tale of +Bluebeard." + +"Look here, Simon"--she planted herself in front of me--"I'm not a bit +inquisitive. I don't in the least want to know what passed between you +and Eleanor. But what I would give my ears to understand is how you +can go through a two hours' conversation with the girl you were engaged +to--a conversation which must have affected the lives of both of +you--and then come up to me and talk drivel about China tea and +Bluebeard." + +"Once on a time, my dear," said I, "I flattered myself on being an +artist in life. I am humbler now and acknowledge myself a wretched +bungling amateur. But I still recognise the value of chiaroscuro." + +"You're hopeless," said Agatha, somewhat crossly. "You get more flippant +and cynical every day." + + + +CHAPTER XX + +I went home to my solitary dinner, and afterwards took down a volume of +Emerson and tried to read. I thought the cool and spacious philosopher +might allay a certain fever in my blood. But he did nothing of the kind. +He wrote for cool and spacious people like himself; not for corpses +like me revivified suddenly with an overcharge of vital force. I pitched +him--how much more truly companionable is a book than its author!--I +pitched him across the room, and thrusting my hands in my pockets and +stretching out my legs, stared in a certain wonder at myself. + +I, Simon de Gex, was in love; and, _horribile dictu!_ in love with two +women at once. It was Oriental, Mormonic, New Century, what you will; +but there it was. I am ashamed to avow that if, at that moment, both +women had appeared before me and said "Marry us," I should have--well, +reflected seriously on the proposal. I had passed through curious enough +experiences, Heaven knows, already; but none so baffling as this. The +two women came alternately and knocked at my heart, and whispered in my +ear their irrefutable claims to my love. I listened throbbingly to each, +and to each I said, "I love you." + +I was in an extraordinary psychological predicament. Lola had remarked, +"You are not quite alive even yet." I had come to complete life too +suddenly. This was the result. I got up and paced the bird-cage, which +the house-agents termed a reception-room, and wondered whether I were +going mad. It was not as if one woman represented the flesh and the +other the spirit. Then I might have seen the way to a decision. But both +had the large nature that comprises all. I could not exalt one in +any way to the abasement of the other. All my inherited traditions, +prejudices, predilections, all my training ranged me on the side of +Eleanor. I was clamouring for the real. Was she not the incarnation +of the real? Her very directness piqued me to a perverse and delicious +obliquity. And I knew, as I knew when I parted from her months before, +that it was only for me to awaken things that lay virginally dormant. +On the other hand stood Lola, with her magnetic seduction, her rich +atmosphere, her great wide simplicity of heart, holding out arms into +which I longed to throw myself. + +It was monstrous, abnormal. I hated the abominable indelicacy of +weighing one against the other, as I had hated the idea of their +meeting. + +I paced my bird-cage until it shrank to the size of a rat-trap. Then +I clapped on my hat and fled down into the streets. I jumped into the +first cab I saw and bade the driver take me to Barbara's Building. +Campion suddenly occurred to me as the best antidote to the poison that +had entered my blood. + +I found him alone, clearing from the table the remains of supper. In +spite of his soul's hospitable instincts, he stared at me. + +"Why, what the----?" + +"Yes, I know. You're surprised to see me bursting in on you like a wild +animal. I'm not going to do it every night, but this evening I claim a +bit of our old friendship." + +"Claim it all, my dear de Gex!" he said cordially. "What can I do for +you?" + +It was characteristic of Campion to put his question in that form. +Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have asked what was the matter +with me. But Campion, who all his life had given, wanted to know what he +could co. + +"Tell me fairy tales of Lambeth and idylls of the Waterloo Bridge Road. +Or light your pipe and talk to me of Barbara." + +He folded up the tablecloth and put it in the sideboard drawer. + +"If it's elegant distraction you want," said he, "I can do better +than that." He planted himself in front of me. "Would you like to do a +night's real work?" + +"Certainly," said I. + +"A gentleman of my acquaintance named Judd is in the ramping stage of +_delirium tremens_. He requires a couple of men to hold him down so as +to prevent him from getting out of bed and smashing his furniture and +his wife and things. I was going to relieve one of the fellows there +now, so that he can get a few hours' sleep, and if you like to come +and relieve the other, you'll be doing a good action. But I warn you it +won't be funny." + +"I'm in the mood for anything," I said. + +"You'll come?" + +"Of course." + +"That's splendid!" he shouted. "I hardly thought you were in earnest. +Wait till I telephone for some medicine to be sent up from the +dispensary. I promised to take it round with me." + +He telephoned instructions, and presently a porter brought in the +medicine. Campion explained that it had been prescribed by the doctor +attached to the institution who was attending the case. + +"You must come and see the working of our surgery and dispensary!" he +cried enthusiastically. "We charge those who can afford a sixpence for +visit and medicine. Those who can't are provided, after inquiry, with +coupons. We don't want to encourage the well-to-do to get their medical +advice gratis, or we wouldn't be able to cope with the really poor. We +pay the doctor a fixed salary, and the fees go to the general fund of +the Building, so it doesn't matter a hang to him whether a patient pays +or not." + +"You must be proud of all this, Campion?" I said. + +"In a way," he replied, lighting his pipe; "but it's mainly a question +of money--my poor old father's money which he worked for, not I." + +I reminded him that other sons had been known to put their poor old +father's money to baser uses. + +"I suppose Barbara is more useful to the community that steam yachts or +racing stables; but there, you see, I hate yachting because I'm always +sea-sick, and I scarcely know which end of a horse you put the bridle +on. Every man to his job. This is mine. I like it." + +"I wonder whether holding down people suffering from _delirium tremens_ +is my job," said I. "If so, I'm afraid I shan't like it." + +"If it's really your job," replied Campion, "you will. You must. You +can't help it. God made man so." + +It was only an hour or two later when, for the first time in my life, I +came into practical touch with human misery, that I recognised the truth +of Campion's perfervid optimism. No one could like our task that night +in its outer essence. For a time it revolted me. The atmosphere of +the close, dirty room, bedroom, kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, +bathroom, laundry--all in one, the home of man, wife and two children, +caught me by the throat. It was sour. The physical contact with the +flesh of the unclean, gibbering, shivering, maniacal brute on the foul +bed was unutterably repugnant to me. Now and again, during intervals +of comparative calm, I was forced to put my head out of the window to +breathe the air of the street. Even that was tainted, for a fried-fish +shop across the way and a public-house next door billowed forth their +nauseating odours. After a while access to the window was denied me. +A mattress and some rude coverings were stretched beneath it--the +children's bed--on which we persuaded the helpless, dreary wife to lie +down and try to rest. A neighbour had taken in the children for the +night. The wife was a skinny, grey-faced, lined woman of six-and-twenty. +In her attitude of hopeless incompetence she shed around her an +atmosphere of unspeakable depression. Although I could not get to the +window, I was glad when she lay down and spared me the sight of +her moving fecklessly about the room or weeping huddled up on a +broken-backed wooden chair and looking more like a half-animated +dish-clout than a woman. + +The poor wretch on the bed was a journeyman tailor who, when sober, +could earn fair wages. The cry of the wife, before Campion awed her +into comparative silence, was a monotonous upbraiding of her husband for +bringing them down to this poverty. It seemed impossible to touch her +intelligence and make her understand that no words from her or any one +could reach his consciousness. His violence, his screams, his threats, +the horrors of his fear left her unmoved. We were there to guard her +from physical danger, and that to her was all that mattered. + +In the course of an hour or so the nausea left me. I felt braced by the +grimness of the thing, and during the paroxysms I had no time to think +of anything but the mechanical work in hand. It was all that Campion and +I, both fairly able-bodied men, could do to keep the puny little tailor +in his bed. Horrible shapes menaced him from which he fought madly to +escape. He writhed and shrieked with terror. Once he caught my hand in +his teeth and bit it, and Campion had some difficulty in relaxing +the wretch's jaw. Between the paroxysms Campion and I sat on the bed +watching him, scarcely exchanging a word. The wife, poor creature, +whimpered on her mattress. It was not a pleasant vigil. It lasted till +the grey dawn crept in, pitilessly intensifying the squalor of the room, +and until the dawn was broadening into daylight. Then two of Campion's +men from Barbara's Building arrived to relieve us. Before we went, +however, the neighbour who had taken charge of the children came in to +help the slatternly wife light a fire and make some tea. I have enjoyed +few things more than the warm, bitter stuff which I drank out of the +broken mug in that strange and depressing company. + +I went out into the street with racked head and nerves and muscles. +Campion kept his cloth cap in his hand, allowing the morning wind to +ruffle his shaggy black hair, and drew a long breath. + +"I think the worst is over now. As soon as he can be moved, I'll get him +down to the annexe at Broadstairs. The sea air will pull him round." + +"Isn't it rather hopeless?" I asked. + +He turned on me. "Nothing's hopeless. If you once start the hopeless +game down here you'd better distribute cyanide of potassium instead of +coals and groceries. I've made up my mind to get that man decent again, +and, by George, I'm going to do it! Fancy those two weaklings producing +healthy offspring. But they have. Two of the most intelligent kids +in the district. If you hold up your hands and say it's awful to +contemplate their upbringing you're speaking the blatant truth. It's +the contemplation that's awful. But why contemplate when you can do +something?" + +I admitted the justice of the remark. He went on. + +"Look at yourself now. If you had gone in with me last night and just +stared at the poor devil howling with D.T. in that filthy place, you'd +have come out sick and said it was awful. Instead of that, you buckled +to and worked and threw off everything save our common humanity, and +have got interested in the Judds in spite of yourself. You'll go and see +them again and do what you can for them, won't you?" + +I was not in a merry mood, but I laughed. Campion had read the intention +that had vaguely formulated itself in the back of my mind. + +"Of course I will," I said. + +We walked on a few steps down the still silent, disheartening street +without speaking. Then he tugged his beard, half-halted, and glanced at +me quickly. + +"See here," said he, "the more sensible people I can get in to help +us the better. Would you like me to hand you over the Judd family _en +bloc_?" + +This was startling to the amateur philanthropist. But it is the way of +all professionals to regard their own business as of absorbing interest +to the outside world. The stockbroking mind cannot conceive a sane +man indifferent to the fluctuations of the money market, and to the +professional cricketer the wide earth revolves around a wicket. How in +the world could I be fairy godfather to the Judd family? Campion took my +competence for granted. + +"You may not understand exactly what I mean, my dear Campion," said +I; "but I attribute the most unholy disasters of my life to a ghastly +attempt of mine to play Deputy Providence." + +"But who's asking you to play Deputy Providence?" he shouted. "It's the +very last idiot thing I want done. I want you to do certain definite +practical work for that family under the experienced direction of the +authorities at Barbara's Building. There, do you understand now?" + +"Very well, I'll do anything you like." + +Thus it befell that I undertook to look after the moral, material, and +spiritual welfare of the family of an alcoholic tailor by the name of +Judd who dwelt in a vile slum in South Lambeth. My head was full of the +prospect when I awoke at noon, for I had gone exhausted to sleep as soon +as I reached home. If goodwill, backed by the experience of Barbara's +Building, could do aught towards the alleviation of human misery, I +determined that it should be done. And there was much misery to be +alleviated in the Judd family. I had no clear notion of the means +whereby I was to accomplish this; but I knew that it would be a +philanthropic pursuit far different from my previous eumoirous +wanderings abut London when, with a mind conscious of well-doing, I +distributed embarrassing five-pound notes to the poor and needy. + +I had known--what comfortable, well-fed gentleman does not?--that within +easy walking distance of his London home thousands of human beings live +like the beasts that perish; but never before had I spent an intimate +night in one of the foul dens where the living and perishing take place. +The awful pity of it entered my soul. + +So deeply was I impressed with the responsibility of what I had +undertaken, so grimly was I haunted by the sight of the pallid, howling +travesty of a man and the squeezed-out, whimpering woman, that the +memory of the conflicting emotions that had driven me to Campion the +night before returned to me with a shock. + +"It strikes me," I murmured, as I shaved, "that I am living very +intensely indeed. Here am I in love with two women at once, and almost +hysterically enthusiastic over a delirious tailor." Then I cut my cheek +and murmured no more, until the operation was concluded. + +I had arranged to accompany Lola that afternoon to the Zoological +Gardens. This was a favourite resort of hers. She was on intimate terms +with keepers and animals, and her curious magnetism allowed her to play +such tricks with lions and tigers and other ferocious beasts as made +my blood run cold. As for the bears, they greeted her approach with +shrieking demonstrations of affection. On such occasions I felt the same +curious physical antipathy as I did when she had dominated Anastasius's +ill-conditioned cat. She seemed to enter another sphere of being in +which neither I nor anything human had a place. + +With some such dim thoughts in my head, I reached her door in Cadogan +Gardens. The sight of her electric brougham that stood waiting switched +my thoughts into another groove, but one running oddly parallel. +Electric broughams also carried her out of my sphere. I had humbly +performed the journey thither in an omnibus. + +She received me in her big, expansive way. + +"Lord! How good it is to see you. I was getting the--I was going to say +'the blind hump'--but you don't like it. I was going to turn crazy and +bite the furniture." + +"Why?" I asked with masculine directness. + +"I've been trying to educate myself--to read poetry. Look here"--she +caught a small brown-covered octavo volume from the table. "I can't make +head or tail of it. It proved to me that it was no use. If I couldn't +understand poetry, I couldn't understand anything. It was no good trying +to educate myself. I gave it up. And then I got what you don't like me +to call the hump." + +"You dear Lola!" I cried, laughing. "I don't believe any one has ever +made head or tail out of 'Sordello.' There once was a man who said +there were only two intelligible lines in the poem--the first and the +last--and that both were lies. 'Who will, may hear Sordello's story +told,' and 'Who would, has heard Sordello's story told.' Don't worry +about not understanding it." + +"Don't you?" + +"Not a bit," said I. + +"That's a comfort," she said, with a generous sigh of relief. "How well +you're looking!" she cried suddenly. "You're a different man. What have +you been doing to yourself?" + +"I've grown quite alive." + +"Good! Delightful! So am I. Quite alive now, thank you." + +She looked it, in spite of the black outdoor costume. But there was a +dash of white at her throat and some white lilies of the valley in +her bosom, and a white feather in her great black hat poised with a +Gainsborough swagger on the mass of her bronze hair. + +"It's the spring," she added. + +"Yes," said I, "it's the spring." + +She approached me and brushed a few specks of dust from my shoulder. + +"You want a new suit of clothes, Simon." + +"Dear me!" said I, glancing hastily over the blue serge suit in which I +had lounged at Mustapha Superieur. "I suppose I do." + +It occurred to me that my wardrobe generally needed replenishing. I had +been unaccustomed to think of these things, the excellent Rogers and his +predecessors having done most of the thinking for me. + +"I'll go to Poole's at once," said I. + +And then it struck me, to my whimsical dismay, that in the present +precarious state of my finances, especially in view of my decision to +abandon political journalism in favour of I knew not what occupation, I +could not afford to order clothes largely from a fashionable tailor. + +"I shouldn't have mentioned it," said Lola apologetically, "but you're +always so spick and span." + +"And now I'm getting shabby!" + +I threw back my head and laughed at the new and comical conception of +Simon de Gex down at heel. + +"Oh, not shabby!" echoed Lola. + +"Yes, my dear. The days of purple and fine linen are _vorbei_. You'll +have to put up with me in a threadbare coat and frayed cuffs and ragged +hems to my trousers." + +Lola declared that I was talking rubbish. + +"Not quite such rubbish as you may think, my dear. Shall you mind?" + +"It would break my heart. But why do you talk so? You can't be--as +poor--as that?" + +Her face manifested such tragic concern that I laughed. Besides, the +idea of personal poverty amused me. When I gave up my political work +I should only have what I had saved from my wreck--some two hundred a +year--to support me until I should find some other means of livelihood. +It was enough to keep me from starvation, and the little economies I had +begun to practise afforded me enjoyment. On the other hand, how folks +regulated their balance-sheets so as to live on two hundred a year I had +but a dim notion. In the course of our walk from Barbara's Building to +the Judds the night before I had asked Campion. He had laughed somewhat +grimly. + +"I don't know. I don't run an asylum for spendthrift plutocrats; but if +you want to see how people live and bring up large families on fifteen +shillings a week, I can show you heaps of examples." + +This I felt would, in itself, be knowledge of the deepest interest; but +it would in no way aid me to solve my own economic difficulty. I was +always being brought up suddenly against the problem in some form or +another, and, as I say, it caused me considerable amusement. + +"I shall go on happily enough," said I, reassuringly. "In the meantime +let us go and see the lions and tigers." + +We started. The electric brougham glided along comfortably through the +sunlit streets. A feeling of physical and spiritual content stole over +me. Our hands met and lingered a long time in a sympathetic clasp. +Whatever fortune held in store for me here at least I had an inalienable +possession. For some time we said nothing, and when our eyes met she +smiled. I think she had never felt my heart so near to hers. At last we +broke the silence and talked of ordinary things. I told her of my vigil +overnight and my undertaking to look after the Judds. She listened +with great interest. When I had finished my tale, she said almost +passionately: + +"Oh, I wish I could do something like that!" + +"You?" + +"Why not? I came from those people. My grandfather swept the cages in +Jamrach's down by the docks. He died of drink. He used to live in one +horrible, squalid room near by. I remember my father taking me to see +him when I was a little girl--we ourselves weren't very much better off +at that time. I've been through it," she shivered. "I know what that +awful poverty is. Sometimes it seems immoral of me to live luxuriously +as I do now without doing a hand's turn to help." + +"_Chacun a son metier_, my dear," said I. "There's no need to reproach +yourself." + +"But I think it might be my _metier_," she replied earnestly, "if only I +could learn it." + +"Why haven't you tried, then?" + +"I've been lazy and the opportunity hasn't come my way." + +"I'll introduce you to Campion," I said, "and doubtless he'll be able to +find something for you to do. He has made a science of the matter. I'll +take you down to see him." + +"Will you?" + +"Certainly," said I. There was a pause. Then an idea struck me. "I +wonder, my dear Lola, whether you could apply that curious power you +have over savage animals to the taming of the more brutal of humans." + +"I wonder," she said thoughtfully. + +"I should like to see you seize a drunken costermonger in the act of +jumping on his wife by the scruff of the neck, and reduce him to such +pulp that he sat up on his tail and begged." + +"Oh, Simon!" she exclaimed reproachfully. "I quite thought you were +serious." + +"So I am, my dear," I returned quickly, "as serious as I can be." + +She laughed. "Do you remember the first day you came to see me? You said +that I could train any human bear to dance to whatever tune I pleased. I +wonder if the same thought was at the back of your head." + +"It wasn't. It was a bad and villainous thought. I came under the +impression that you were a dangerous seductress." + +"And I'm not?" + +Oh, that spring day, that delicious tingle in the air, that laughing +impertinence of the budding trees in the park through which we were then +driving, that enveloping sense of fragrance and the nearness and the +dearness of her! Oh, that overcharge of vitality! I leaned my head to +hers so that my lips nearly touched her ear. My voice shook. + +"You're a seductress and a witch and a sorcerer and an enchantress." + +The blood rose to her dark face. She half closed her eyes. + +"What else am I?" she murmured. + +But, alas! I had not time to answer, for the brougham stopped at the +gates of the Zoological Gardens. We both awakened from our foolishness. +My hand was on the door-handle when she checked me. + +"What's the good of a mind if you can't change it? I don't feel in a +mood for wild beasts to-day, and I know you don't care to see me fooling +about with them. I would much rather sit quiet and talk to you." + +With a woman who wants to sacrifice herself there is no disputing. +Besides, I had no desire to dispute. I acquiesced. We agreed to continue +our drive. + +"We'll go round by Hampstead Heath," she said to the chauffeur. As soon +as we were in motion again, she drew ever so little nearer and said, in +her lowest, richest notes, and with a coquetry that was bewildering on +account of its frankness: + +"What were we talking of before we pulled up?" + +"I don't know what we were talking of," I said, "but we seem to have +trodden on the fringe of a fairy-tale." + +"Can't we tread on it again?" She laughed happily. + +"You have only to cast the spell of your witchery over me again." + +She drew yet a little nearer and whispered: "I'm trying to do it as hard +as I can." + +An adorable softness came into her eyes, and her hand instinctively +closed round mine in its boneless clasp. The long pent-up longing of +the woman vibrated from her in waves that shook me to my soul. My senses +swam. Her face quivered glorious before me in a black world. Her lips +were parted. Careless of all the eyes in all the houses in the Avenue +Road, St. John's Wood, and in the head of a telegraph boy whom I only +noticed afterwards, I kissed her on the lips. + +All the fulness and strength of life danced through my veins. + +"I told you I was quite alive!" I said with idiotic exultation. + +She closed her eyes and leaned back. "Why did you do that?" she +murmured. + +"Because I love you," said I. "It has come at last." + +Where we drove I have no recollection. Presumably an impression of green +rolling plain with soft uplands in the distance signified that we passed +along Hampstead Heath; the side thoroughfare with villa residences on +either side may have been Kilburn High Road; the flourishing, busy, +noisy suburb may have been Kilburn: the street leading thence to +the Marble Arch may have been Maida Vale. To me they were paths in +Dreamland. We spoke but little and what we did say was in the simple, +commonplace language which all men use in the big crises of life. + +There was no doubt now of my choice. I loved her. Love had come to me at +last. That was all I knew at that hour and all I cared to know. + +Lola was the first to awake from Dreamland. She shivered. I asked +whether she felt cold. + +"No. I can't believe that you love me. I can't. I can't." + +I smiled in a masterful way. "I can soon show you that I do." + +She shook her head. "I'm afraid, Simon, I'm afraid." + +"What of?" + +"Myself." + +"Why?" + +"I can't tell you. I can't explain. I don't know how to. I've been +wrong--horribly wrong. I'm ashamed." + +She gripped her hands together and looked down at them. I bent forward +so as to see her face, which was full of pain. + +"But, dearest of all women," I cried, "what in the world have you to be +ashamed of?" + +She paused, moistened her lips with her tongue, and then broke out: + +"I'll tell you. A decent lady like your Eleanor Faversham wouldn't tell. +But I can't keep these things in. Didn't you begin by saying I was a +seductress? No, no, let me talk. Didn't you say I could make a man do +what I wanted? Well, I wanted you to kiss me. And now you've done it, +you think you love me; but you don't, you can't." + +"You're talking the wickedest nonsense that ever proceeded out of the +lips of a loving woman," I said aghast. "I repeat in the most solemn way +that I love you with all my heart." + +"In common decency you couldn't say otherwise." + +Again I saw the futility of disputation. I put my hand on hers. + +"Time will show, dear. At any rate, we have had our hour of fairyland." + +"I wish we hadn't," she said. "Don't you see it was only my sorcery, as +you call it, that took us there? I meant us to go." + +At last we reached Cadogan Gardens. I descended and handed her out, and +we entered the hall of the mansions. The porter stood with the lift-door +open. + +"I'm coming up to knock all this foolishness out of your head." + +"No, don't, please, for Heaven's sake!" she whispered imploringly. "I +must be alone--to think it all out. It's only because I love you so. And +don't come to see me for a day or two--say two days. This is Wednesday. +Come on Friday. You think it over as well. And if it's really true--I'll +know then--when you come. Good-bye, dear. Make Gray drive you wherever +you want to go." + +She wrung my hand, turned and entered the lift. The gates swung to and +she mounted out of sight. I went slowly back to the brougham, and gave +the chauffeur the address of my eyrie. He touched his hat. I got in +and we drove off. And then, for the first time, it struck me that an +about-to-be-shabby gentleman with a beggarly two hundred a year, ought +not, in spite of his quarterings, to be contemplating marriage with a +wealthy woman who kept an electric brougham. The thought hit me like a +stone in the midriff. + +What on earth was to be done? My pride rose up like the _deux ex +machina_ in the melodrama and forbade the banns. To live on Lola's +money--the idea was intolerable. Equally intolerable was the idea +of earning an income by means against the honesty of which my soul +clamoured aloud. + +"Good God!" I cried. "Is life, now I've got to it, nothing but an +infinite series of dilemmas? No sooner am I off one than I'm on another. +No sooner do I find that Lola and not Eleanor Faversham is the +woman sent down by Heaven to be my mate than I realise the same old +dilemma--Lola on one horn and Eleanor replaced on the other by Pride +and Honour and all sorts of capital-lettered considerations. Life is +the very Deuce," said I, with a wry appreciation of the subtlety of +language. + +Why did Lola say: "Your Eleanor Faversham?" + +I had enough to think over for the rest of the evening. But I slept +peacefully. Light loves had come and gone in the days past; but now for +the first time love that was not light had come into my life. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +"The Lord will find a way out of the dilemma," said I confidently to +myself as I neared Cadogan Gardens two days after the revelatory drive. +"Lola is in love with me and I am in love with Lola, and there is +nothing to keep us apart but my pride over a matter of a few +ha'-pence." I felt peculiarly jaunty. I had just posted to Finch the +last of the articles I had agreed to write for his reactionary review, +and only a couple of articles for another journal remained to be written +in order to complete my literary engagements. Soon I should be out of +the House of Bondage in which I had been a slave, at first willingly and +now rebelliously, from my cradle. The great wide world with its infinite +opportunities for development received my liberated spirit. I had broken +the shackles of caste. I had thrown off the perfumed garments of +epicureanism, the vesture of my servitude. My emotions, once stifled in +the enervating atmosphere, now awake fresh and strong in the free air. I +was elemental--the man wanting the woman; and I was happy because I knew +I was going to get her. Such must be the state of being of a dragonfly +on a sunny day. And--shall I confess it?--I had obeyed the dragon-fly's +instinct and attired myself in the most resplendent raiment in my +wardrobe. My morning coat was still irreproachable, my patent leather +boots still gleamed, and having had some business in Piccadilly I had +stepped into my hatter's and emerged with my silk hat newly ironed. I +positively strutted along the pavement. + +For two days I had not seen her or heard from her or written to her. I +had scrupulously respected her wishes, foolish though they were. Now I +was on my way to convince her that my love was not a moment's surge of +the blood on a spring afternoon. I would take her into my arms at once, +after the way of men, and she, after the way of women, would yield +adorably. I had no doubt of it. I tasted in anticipation the bliss of +that first embrace as if I had never kissed a woman in my life. And, +indeed, what woman had I kissed with the passion that now ran through +my veins? In that embrace all the ghosts of the past women would be laid +for ever and a big and lusty future would make glorious beginning. "By +Heaven," I cried, almost articulately, "with the splendour of the world +at my command why should I not write plays, novels, poems, rhapsodies, +so as to tell the blind, groping, loveless people what it is like? + +"Take me up to Madame Brandt!" said I to the lift-porter. "Madame Brandt +is not in town, sir," said the man. + +I looked at him open-mouthed. "Not in town?" + +"I think she has gone abroad, sir. She left with a lot of luggage +yesterday, and her maid, and now the flat is shut up." + +"Impossible!" I cried aghast. + +The porter smiled. "I can only tell you what has happened, sir." + +"Where has she gone to?" + +"I couldn't say, sir." + +"Her letters? Has she left no address to which they are to be +forwarded?" + +"Not with me, sir." + +"Did she say when she was coming back?" + +"No, sir. But she dismissed her cook with a month's wages, so it seems +as though she was gone for a good spell." + +"What time yesterday did she leave?" + +"After lunch. The cabman was to drive her to Victoria--London, Chatham +and Dover Railway." + +"That looks like the 2.20 to Paris," said I. + +But the lift-porter knew nothing of this. He had given me all the +information in his power. I thanked him and went out into the sunshine a +blinking, dazed, bewildered and piteously crushed man. + +She had gone, without drum or trumpet, maid and baggage and all, having +dismissed her cook and shut up the flat. It was incredible. I wandered +aimlessly about Chelsea trying to make up my mind what to do. Should I +go to Paris and bring her back by main force? But how did I know that +she had gone to Paris? And if she was there how could I discover her +address? Suddenly an idea struck me. She would not have left Quast and +the cattery in the same unceremonious fashion to get on as best they +might. She would have given Quast money and directions. At any rate, he +would know more than the lift-porter of the mansions. I decided to go to +him forthwith. + +By means of trains and omnibuses I arrived at the house in the little +street off Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, where the maker of gymnastic +appliances had his being. I knocked at the door. A grubby man appeared. +I inquired for Quast. + +Quast had left that morning in a van, taking his cages of cats with him. +He had gone abroad and was never coming back again, not if he knew +it, said the grubby man. The cats were poison and Quast was a low-down +foreigner, and it would cost him a year's rent to put the place in order +again. Whereupon he slammed the door in my face and left me disconsolate +on the doorstep. + +The only other person with whom I knew Lola to be on friendly terms was +Sir Joshua Oldfield. I entered the first public telephone office I +came to and rang him up. He had not seen Lola for a week, and had heard +nothing from her relating to her sudden departure. I went sadly home +to my bird-cage in Victoria Street, feeling that now at last the +abomination of desolation had overspread my life. + +Why had she gone? What was the meaning of it? Why not a line of +explanation? And the simultaneous disappearance of Quast and the +cats--what did that betoken? Had she been summoned, for any reason, to +the Maison de Sante, where Anastasius Papadopoulos was incarcerated? If +so, why this secrecy? Why should Lola of all people side with Destiny +and make a greater Tom Fool of me than ever? This could be no other than +the final jest. + +I do not care to remember what I did and said in the privacy of my +little room. There are things a man locks away even from himself. + +I was in the midst of my misery when the bell of my tiny flat rang. I +opened the door and found my sister Agatha smiling on the threshold. + +"Hallo!" said I, gazing at her stupidly. + +"You're not effusive in your welcome, my dear Simon," she remarked. +"Won't you ask me to come in?" + +"By all means," said I. "Come in!" + +She entered and looked round my little sitting-room. "What a pill-box in +the sky! I had no idea it was as tiny as this. I think I shall call you +Saint Simon Stylites." + +I was in no mood for Agatha. I bowed ironically and inquired to what I +owed the honour of the visit. + +"I want you to do me a favour--a great favour. I'm dying to see the new +dances at the Palace Theatre. They say they dance on everything except +their feet. I've got a box. Tom promised to take me. Now he finds he +can't. I've telephoned all over the place for something uncompromising +in or out of trousers to accompany me and I can't get hold of anybody. +So I've come to you." + +"I'm vastly flattered!" said I. + +She dismissed my sarcasm with bird-like impatience. + +"Don't be silly. If I had thought you would like it, I should have come +to you first. I didn't want to bore you. But I did think you would pull +me out of a hole." + +"What's a hole?" I asked. + +"I've paid for a box and I can't go by myself. How can I? Do take me, +there's a dear." + +"I'm afraid I'm too dull for haunts of merriment," said I. + +She regarded me reproachfully. + +"It isn't often I ask you to put yourself out for me. The last time +was when I asked you to be the baby's godfather. And a pretty godfather +you've been. I bet you anything you don't remember the name." + +"I do," said I. + +"What's it then?" + +"It's--it's----" I snapped my fingers. The brat's name had for the +moment gone out of my distracted head. She broke into a laugh and ran +her arm through mine. + +"Dorcas." + +"Yes, of course--Dorcas. I was going to say so." + +"Then you were going to say wrong, for it's Dorothy. Now you _must_ +come--for the sake of penance." + +"I'll do anything you please!" I cried in desperation, "so long as +you'll not talk to me of my own affairs and will let me sit as glum as +ever I choose." + +Then for the first time she manifested some interest in my mood. She put +her head to one side and scanned my face narrowly. + +"What's the matter, Simon?" + +"I've absorbed too much life the last few days," said I, "and now I've +got indigestion." + +"I'm sorry, dear old boy, whatever it is," she said affectionately. +"Come round and dine at 7.30, and I promise not to worry you." + +What could I do? I accepted. The alternative to procuring Agatha an +evening's amusement was pacing up and down my bird-cage and beating my +wings (figuratively) and perhaps my head (literally) against the bars. + +"It's awfully sweet of you," said Agatha. "Now I'll rush home and +dress." + +I accompanied her down the lift to the front door, and attended her to +her carriage. + +"I'll do you a good turn some day, dear," she said as she drove off. + +I rather flatter myself that Agatha had no reason to complain of my +dulness at dinner. In my converse with her I was faced by various +alternatives. I might lay bare my heart, tell her of my love for Lola +and my bewildered despair at her desertion; this I knew she would no +more understand than if I had proclaimed a mad passion for a young lady +who had waited on me at a tea-shop, or for a cassowary at the Zoo; +even the best and most affectionate of sisters have their sympathetic +limitations. I might have maintained a mysterious and Byronic gloom; +this would have been sheer bad manners. I might have attributed my lack +of spontaneous gaiety to toothache or stomach-ache; this would have +aroused sisterly and matronly sympathies, and I should have had the +devil's own job to escape from the house unpoisoned by the nostrums that +lurk in the medicine chest of every well-conducted family. Agatha, I +knew, had a peculiarly Borgiaesque equipment. Lastly, there was the +worldly device, which I adopted, of dissimulating the furnace of my +affliction beneath a smiling exterior. Agatha, therefore, found me +an entertaining guest and drove me to the Palace Theatre in high good +humour. + +There, however, I could resign my role of entertainer in favour of the +professionals on the stage. I sat back in my corner of the box and gave +myself up to my harassing concerns. Young ladies warbled, comic acrobats +squirted siphons at each other and kicked each other in the stomach, +jugglers threw plates and brass balls with dizzying skill, the famous +dancers gyrated pyrotechnically, the house applauded with delight, +Agatha laughed and chuckled and clapped her hands and I remained silent, +unnoticed and unnoticing in my reflective corner, longing for the +foolery to end. Where was Lola? Why had she forsaken me? What remedy, in +the fiend's name, was there for this heart torture within me? The most +excruciating agonies of the little pain inside were child's play to +this. I bit my lips so as not to groan aloud and contorted my features +into the semblance of a smile. + +During a momentary interval there came a knock at the box door. I said, +"Come in!" The door opened, and there, to my utter amazement, stood +Dale Kynnersley--Dale, sleek, alert, smiling, attired in the very latest +nicety of evening dress affected by contemporary youth--Dale such as I +knew and loved but six months ago. + +He came forward to Agatha, who was little less astounded than myself. + +"How d'ye do, Lady Durrell? I'm in the stalls with Harry Essendale. I +tried to catch your eye, but couldn't. So I thought I'd come up." He +turned to me with frank outstretched hand, "How do, Simon?" + +I grasped his hand and murmured something unintelligible. The thing +was so extraordinary, so unexpected that my wits went wandering. Dale +carried off the situation lightly. It was he who was the man of the +world, and I the unresourceful stumbler. + +"He's looking ripping, isn't he, Lady Durrell? I met old Oldfield the +other day, and he was raving about your case. The thing has never been +done before. Says they're going mad over your chap in Paris--they've +given him medals and wreaths and decorations till he goes about like a +prize bull at a fair. By Jove, it's good to see you again." + +"You might have taken an earlier opportunity," Agatha remarked with some +acidity. + +"So I might," retorted Dale blandly; "but when a man's a born ass it +takes him some time to cultivate sense! I've been wanting to see you for +a long time, Simon--and to-night I just couldn't resist it. You don't +want to kick me out?" + +"Heaven forbid," said I, somewhat brokenly, for the welcome sight of his +face and the sound of his voice aroused emotions which even now I do not +care to analyse. "It was generous of you to come up." + +He coloured. "Rot!" said he, in his breezy way. "Hallo! The curtain's +going up. What's the next item? Oh, those fool dogs!" + +"I adore performing dogs!" said Agatha, looking toward the stage. + +He turned to me. "Do you?" + +The last thing on earth I desired to behold at that moment was a +performing animal. My sensitiveness led me to suspect a quizzical look +in Dale's eye. Fortunately, he did not wait for my answer, but went on +in a boyish attempt to appease Agatha. + +"I don't despise them, you know, Lady Durrell, but I've seen them twice +before. They're really rather good. There's a football match at the end +which is quite exciting." + +"Oh, the beauties!" cried Agatha over her shoulder as the dogs trotted +on the stage. I nodded an acknowledgment of the remark, and she plunged +into rapt contemplation of the act. Dale and I stood at the back of the +box. Suddenly he whispered: + +"Come out into the corridor. I've something to say to you." + +"Certainly," said I, and followed him out of the box. + +He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked at me with the defiant +and you-be-damned air of the young Briton who was about to commit a +gracious action. I knew what he was going to say. I could tell by his +manner. I dreaded it, and yet I loved him for it. + +"Why say anything, my dear boy?" I asked. "You want to be friends with +me again, and God knows I want to be friends again with you. Why talk?" + +"I've got to get if off my chest," said he, in his so familiar +vernacular. "I want to tell you that I've been every end of a silly ass +and I want you to forgive me." + +I vow I have never felt so miserably guilty towards any human being as +I did at that moment. I have never felt such a smug-faced hypocrite. +It was a humiliating position. I had inflicted on him a most grievous +wrong, and here he was pleading for forgiveness. I could not pronounce +the words of pardon. He misinterpreted my silence. + +"I know I've behaved rottenly to you since you've been back, but the +first step's always so difficult. You mustn't bear a grudge against me." + +"My dear boy!" I cried, my hand on his shoulder, touched to the heart +by his simple generosity, "don't let us talk of grudges and forgiveness. +All I want to know is whether you're contented?" + +"Contented?" he cried. "I should just think I am. I'm the happiest ass +that doesn't eat thistles!" + +"Explain yourself, my dear Dale," said I, relapsing into my old manner. + +"I'm going to marry Maisie Ellerton." + +I took him by the arm and dragged him inside the box. + +"Agatha," said I, "leave those confounded dogs for a moment and attend +to serious matters. This young man has not come up to see either of us, +but to obtain our congratulations. He's going to marry Maisie Ellerton." + +"Tell me all about it," said Agatha intensely interested. + +A load of responsibility rolled off my shoulders like Christian's pack. +I looked at the dog football match with the interest of a Sheffield +puddler at a Cup-tie, and clapped my hands. + +An hour or so later after we had seen Agatha home, and Dale had +incidentally chucked Lord Essendale (the phrase is his own), we were +sitting over whisky and soda and cigars in my Victoria Street flat. The +ingenuousness of youth had insisted on this prolongation of our meeting. +He had a thousand things to tell me. They chiefly consisted in a +reiteration of the statement that he had been a rampant and unimagined +silly ass, and that Maisie, who knew the whole lunatic story, was a +brick, and a million times too good for him. When he entered my humble +lodging he looked round in a bewildered manner. + +"Why on earth are you living in this mouse-trap?" + +"Agatha calls it a pill-box. I call it a bird-cage. I live here, my dear +boy, because it is the utmost I can afford." + +"Rot! I've been your private secretary and know what your income is." + +I sighed heavily. I shall have to get a leaflet printed setting out the +causes that led to my change of fortune. Then I can hand it to such of +my friends as manifest surprise. + +Indeed, I had grown so used to the story of my lamentable pursuit of +the eumoirous that I rattled it off mechanically after the manner of the +sturdy beggar telling his mendacious tale of undeserved misfortune. To +Dale, however, it was fresh. He listened to it open-eyed. When I had +concluded, he brought his hand down on the arm of the chair. + +"By Jove, you're splendid! I always said you were. Just splendid!" + +He gulped down half a tumbler of whisky and soda to hide his feelings. + +"And you've been doing all this while I've been making a howling fool +of myself! Look here, Simon, you were right all along the line--from the +very first when you tackled me about Lola. Do you remember?" + +"Why refer to it?" I asked. + +"I must!" he burst in quickly. "I've been longing to put myself square +with you. By the way, where is Lola?" + +"I don't know," said I with grim truthfulness. + +"Don't know? Has she vanished?" + +"Yes," said I. + +"That's the end of it, I suppose. Poor Lola! She was an awfully good +sort you know!" said Dale, "and I won't deny I was hit. That's when I +came such a cropper. But I realise now how right you were. I was just +caught by the senses, nothing else; and when she wrote to say it was all +off between us my vanity suffered--suffered damnably, old chap. I lost +the election through it. Didn't attend to business. That brought me to +my senses. Then Essendale took me away yachting, and I had a quiet time +to think; and after that I somehow took to seeing more of Maisie. You +know how things happen. And I'm jolly grateful to you, old chap. You've +saved me from God knows what complications! After all, good sort as Lola +is, it's rot for a man to go outside his own class, isn't it?" + +"It depends upon the man--and also the woman," said I, beginning to +derive peculiar torture from the conversation. + +Dale shook his wise head. "It never comes off," said he. After a pause +he laughed aloud. "Don't you remember the lecture you gave me? My word, +you did talk! You produced a string of ghastly instances where the +experiment had failed. Let me see, who was there, Paget, Merridew, +Bullen. Ha! Ha! No, I'm well out of it, old chap--thanks to you." + +"If any good has come of this sorry business," said I gravely, "I'm only +too grateful to Providence." + +He caught the seriousness of my tone. + +"I didn't want to touch on that side of it," he said awkwardly. "I know +what an infernal time you had! It must have been Gehenna. I realise +now that it was on my account, and so I can never do enough to show my +gratitude." + +He finished his glass of whisky and walked about the tiny room. + +"What has always licked me," he said at length, "is why she never told +me she was married. It's so curious, for she was as straight as they +make them. It's devilish odd!" + +"Yes," I assented wearily, for every word of this talk was a new pain. +"Devilish odd!" + +"I suppose it's a question of class again." + +"Or sex," said I. + +"What has sex to do with being straight?" + +"Everything," said I. + +"Rot!" said Dale. + +I sighed. "I wish your dialectical vocabulary were not so limited." + +He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. + +"Still the same old Simon. It does my heart good to hear you. May I have +another whisky?" + +I took advantage of this break to change the conversation. He had +told me nothing of his own affairs save that he was engaged to Maisie +Ellerton. + +"Heavens!" cried he. "Isn't that enough?" + +"An engagement isn't an occupation." + +"Isn't it, by Jove?" He laughed boyishly. "I manage, however, to squeeze +in a bit of work now and then. The mater has always got plenty on hand +for me, and I do things for Raggles. He has been awfully decent. The +first time I met him or any of the chiefs after the election I was in a +blue funk. But no one seemed to blame me; they all said they were sorry; +and now Raggles is looking out for a constituency for me to nurse for +the next General Election. Then things _will_ hum, I promise you!" + +He waved his cigar with the air of a young paladin about to conquer +the world. In spite of my own depression, I could not help smiling with +gladness at the sight of him. With his extravagantly cut waistcoat, his +elaborately exquisite white tie, his perfectly fitting evening clothes, +with his supple ease of body, his charming manner, the preposterous +fellow made as gallant a show as any ruffling blade in powder and +red-heeled shoes. He had acquired, too, an extra touch of manhood since +I had seen him last. I felt proud of him, conscious that to the making +of him I had to some small degree contributed. + +"You must come out and lunch with Maisie and me one day this week," said +he. "She would love to see you." + +"Wait till you're married," said I, "and then we'll consider it. At +present Maisie is under the social dominion of her parents." + +"Well--what of it?" + +"Just that," said I. + +Then the truth dawned on him. He grew excited and said it was damnable. +He wasn't going to stand by and see people believe a lot of scandalous +lies about me. He had no idea people had given me the cold shoulder. He +would jolly well (such were his words) take a something (I forget the +adjective) megaphone and trumpet about society what a splendid fellow I +was. + +"I'll tell everybody the whole silly-ass story about myself from +beginning to end," he declared. + +I checked him. "You're very generous, my dear boy," said I, "but you'll +do me a favour by letting folks believe what they like." And then I +explained, as delicately as I could, how his sudden championship could +be of little advantage to me, and might do him considerable harm. + +In his impetuous manner he cut short my carefully-expressed argument. + +"Rubbish! Heaps of people I know are already convinced that I was +keeping Lola Brandt and that you took her from me in the ordinary vulgar +way--" + +"Yes, yes," I interrupted, shrinking. "That's why I order you, in God's +name, to leave the whole thing alone." + +"But confound it, man! I've come out of it all right, why shouldn't you? +Even supposing Lola was a loose woman--" + +I threw up my hand. "Stop!" + +He looked disconcerted for a moment. + +"We know she isn't, but for the sake of argument--" + +"Don't argue," said I. "Let us drop it." + +"But hang it all!" he shouted in desperation. "Can't I do something! +Can't I go and kick somebody?" + +I lost my self-control. I rose and put both my hands on his shoulders +and looked him in the eyes. + +"You can kick anybody you please whom you hear breathe a word against +the honour and purity of Madame Lola Brandt." + +Then I walked away, knowing I had betrayed myself, and tried to light +a cigar with fingers that shook. There was a pause. Dale stood with +his back to the fireplace, one foot on the fender. The cigar took some +lighting. The pause grew irksome. + +"My regard for Madame Brandt," said I at last, "is such that I don't +wish to discuss her with any one." I looked at Dale and met his keen +eyes fixed on me. The faintest shadow of a smile played about his mouth. + +"Very well," said he dryly, "we won't discuss her. But all the same, +my dear Simon, I can't help being interested in her; and as you're +obviously the same, it seems rather curious that you don't know where +she is." + +"Do you doubt me?" I asked, somewhat staggered by his tone. + +"Good Heaven's, no! But if she has disappeared, I'm convinced that +something has happened which I know nothing of. Of course, it's none of +my business." + +There was a new and startling note of assurance in his voice. Certainly +he had developed during the past few months. What I had done, Heaven +only knows. Misfortune, which is supposed to be formative of character, +seemed to have turned mine into pie. How can I otherwise account for my +not checking the lunatic impulse that prompted my next words. + +"Well, something has happened," said I, "and if we're to be friends, +you had better know it. Two days ago, for the first time, I told Madame +Brandt that I loved her. This very afternoon I went to get her answer to +my question--would she marry me?--and I found that she had disappeared +without leaving any address behind her. So whenever you hear her name +mentioned you can just tell everybody that she's the one woman in the +whole wide world I want to marry." + +"Poor old Simon," said Dale. "Poor old chap." + +"That's exactly how things stand." + +"Lord, who would have thought it?" + +"How I've borne with you talking about her all this evening the devil +only knows," I cried. "You've driven me half crazy." + +"You should have told me to shut up." + +"I did." + +"Poor old Simon. I'm so sorry--but I had no idea you had fallen in love +with her." + +"Fallen in love!" said I, losing my head. "She's the only woman on God's +earth I've ever cared for. I want her as I've wanted nothing in the +universe before." + +"And you've come to care for her as much as that?" he said +sympathetically. "Poor old Simon." + +"Why the devil shouldn't I?" I shouted, nettled by his "poor old +Simons." + +"Lola Brandt is hardly of your class," said Dale. + +I broke out furiously. "Damn class! I've had enough of it. I'm going to +take my life into my own hands and do what I like with it. I'm going to +choose my mate without any reference to society. I've cut myself adrift +from society. It can go hang. Lola Brandt is a woman worth any man's +loving. She is a woman in a million. You know nothing whatever about +her." + +The last words were scarcely out of my mouth when an echo from the +distance came and, as it were, banged at my ears. Dale himself had +shrieked them at me in exactly the same tone with reference to the same +woman. I stopped short and looked at him for a moment rather stupidly. +Then the imp of humour, who for some time had deserted me, flew to my +side and tickled my brain. I broke into a chuckle, somewhat hysterical +I must admit, and then, throwing myself into an arm-chair, gave way to +uncontrollable laughter. + +The scare of the unexpected rose in Dale's eyes. + +"Why, what on earth is the matter?" + +"Can't you see?" I cried, as far as the paroxysms of my mirth would let +me. "Can't you see how exquisitely ludicrous the whole thing has been +from beginning to end? Don't you realise that you and I are playing +the same scene as we played months ago in my library, with the only +difference that we have changed roles? I'm the raving, infatuated youth, +and you're the grave and reverend mentor. Don't you see? Don't you see?" + +"I can't see anything to laugh at," said Dale sturdily. + +And he couldn't. There are thousands of bright, flame-like human beings +constituted like that. Life spreads out before them one of its most +side-splitting, topsy-turvy farces and they see in it nothing to laugh +at. + +To Dale the affair had been as serious and lacking in the fantastic as +the measles. He had got over the disease and now was exceedingly sorry +to perceive that I had caught it in my turn. + +"It isn't funny a bit," he continued. "It's quite natural. I see it all +now. You cut me out from the very first. You didn't mean to--you never +thought of it. But what chance had I against you? I was a young ass and +you were a brilliant man of the world. I bear you no grudge. You played +the game in that way. Then things happened--and at last you've fallen in +love with her--and now just at the critical moment she has gone off into +space. It must be devilish painful for you, if you ask me." + +"Oh, Dale," said I, shaking my head, "the only fitting end to the farce +would be if you wandered over Europe to find and bring her back to me." + +"I don't know about that," said he, "because I'm engaged, and that, as I +said, gives me occupation; but if I can do anything practicable, my dear +old Simon, you've only got to send for me." + +He pulled out his watch. + +"My hat!" he exclaimed. "It's past two o'clock." + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +I am a personage apart from humanity. I vary from the kindly ways of +man. A curse is on me. + +Surely no man has fought harder than I have done to convince himself of +the deadly seriousness of existence; and surely before the feet of +no man has Destiny cast such stumbling-blocks to faith. I might be an +ancient dweller in the Thebaid struggling towards dreams of celestial +habitations, and confronted only by grotesque visions of hell. No +matter what I do, I'm baffled. I look upon sorrow and say, "Lo, this is +tragedy!" and hey, presto! a trick of lightning turns it into farce. I +cry aloud, in perfervid zeal, "Life is real, life is earnest, and the +apotheosis of the fantastic is not its goal," and immediately a grinning +irony comes to give the lie to my credo. + +Or is it that, by inscrutable decree of the Almighty Powers, I am +undergoing punishment for an old unregenerate point of view, being +doomed to wear my detested motley for all eternity, to stretch out my +hand for ever to grasp realities and find I can do nought but beat the +air with my bladder; to listen with strained ear perpetually expectant +of the music of the spheres, and catch nothing but the mocking jingle of +the bells on my fool's cap? + +I don't know. I give it up. + +Such were my thoughts on the morning after my interview with Dale, when +I had read a long, long letter from Lola, which she had despatched from +Paris. + +The letter lies before me now, many pages in a curious, half-formed +foreign hand. Many would think it an ill-written letter--for there are +faults of spelling and faults of grammar--but even now, as I look +on those faults, the tears come into my eyes. Oh, how exquisitely, +pathetically, monumentally, sublimely foolish! She had little or nothing +to do with it, poor dear; it was only the Arch-Jester again, leading her +blindly away, so as once more to leave me high and dry on the Hill of +Derision. + +". . . My dear, you must forgive me! My heart is breaking, but I know +I'm doing right. There is nothing for it but to go out of your life for +ever. It terrifies me to think of it, but it's the only way. I know you +think you love me, dear; but you can't, you can't _really_ love a woman +so far beneath you, and I would sooner never see you again than marry +you and wake up one day and find that you hated and scorned me. . . ." + +Can you wonder that I shook my fist at Heaven and danced with rage? + + +". . . Miss Eleanor Faversham called on me just a few minutes after you +left me that afternoon. We had a long, long talk. Simon, dear, you must +marry her. You loved her once, for you were engaged, and only broke it +off because you thought you were going to die; and she loves you, Simon, +and she is a lady with all the refinement and education that I could +never have. She is of your class, dear, and understands you, and can +help you on, whereas I could only drag you down. I am not fit to black +her boots. . . ." + + +And so forth, and so forth, in the most heartrending strain of insensate +self-sacrifice and heroic self-abasement. The vainest and most heartless +dog of a man stands abashed and helpless before such things in a woman. + +She had not seen or written to me because she would not have her +resolution weakened. After the great wrench, succeeding things were +easier. She had taken Anastasius's cats and proposed to work them in +the music-halls abroad and send the proceeds to be administered for the +little man's comfort at the Maison de Sante. As both her name and the +Papadopoulos troupe of cats were well known in the "variety" world, it +would be a simple matter to obtain engagements. She had already opened +negotiations for a short season somewhere abroad. I was not to be +anxious about her. She would have plenty of occupation. + + +". . . I am not sending you any address, for I don't want you to know +where I am, dear. I shan't write to you again unless I scribble things +and tear them up without posting. This is final. When a woman makes such +a break she must do it once and for all. Oh, Simon, when you kissed me +two days ago you thought you loved me; but I know what the senses are +and how they deceive people, and I had only just caught your senses +on that spring afternoon, and I made you do it, for I had been aching, +aching for months for a word of love from you, and when it came I was +ashamed. But I should have been weak and shut my eyes to everything if +Miss Faversham had not come to me like God's good angel. . . ." + + +At the fourth reading of the letter I stopped short at these words. +God's good angel, indeed! Could anything have been more calculated to +put a man into a frenzy? I seized my hat and stick and went in search +of the nearest public telephone office. In less than ten minutes I had +arranged an immediate interview with Eleanor Faversham at my sister +Agatha's, and in less than half an hour I was pacing up and down +Agatha's sitting-room waiting for her. God's good angel! The sound +of the words made me choke with wrath. There are times when angelic +interference in human destinies is entirely unwarrantable. I stamped and +I fumed, and I composed a speech in which I told Eleanor exactly what I +thought of angels. + +As I had to wait a considerable time, however, before Eleanor appeared, +the raging violence of my wrath abated, and when she did enter the room +smiling and fresh, with the spring in her clear eyes and a flush on her +cheek, I just said: "How d'ye do, Eleanor?" in the most commonplace way, +and offered her a chair. + +"I've come, you see. You were rather peremptory, so I thought it must be +a matter of great importance." + +"It is," said I. "You went to see Madame Brandt." + +"I did," she replied, looking at me steadily, "and I have tried to write +to you, but it is more difficult than I thought." + +"Well," said I, "it's no use writing now, for you've managed to drive +her out of the country." + +She half rose in her chair and regarded me with wide-blue eyes. + +"I've driven her out of the country?" + +"Yes; with her maid and her belongings and Anastasius Papadopoulos's +troupe of performing cats, and Anastasius Papadopoulos's late pupil and +assistant Quast. She has given up her comfortable home in London and now +proposes to be a wanderer among the music-halls of Europe." + +"But that's not my fault! Indeed, it isn't." + +"She says in a letter I received this morning bearing no address, that +if you hadn't come to her like God's good angel, she would have remained +in London." + +Eleanor looked bewildered. "I thought I had made it perfectly clear to +her." + +"Made what clear?" + +She blushed a furious red. "Can't you guess? You must be as stupid as +she is. And, of course, you're wildly angry with me. Aren't you?" + +"I certainly wish you hadn't gone to see her." + +"Was it merely to tell me this that you ordered me to come here?" she +asked, with a touch of anger in her voice, for however much like God's +good angels young women may be, they generally have a spirit of their +own. + +I felt I had been wanting in tact; also that I had put myself--through +an impetuosity foreign to what I had thought to be my character--in a +foolish position. If I replied affirmatively to her question, she +would have served me perfectly right by tossing her head in the air and +marching indignantly out of the room. I temporised. + +"In order to understand the extraordinary consequences of your +interview, I should like to have some idea of what took place. I know, +my dear Eleanor," I continued as gently as I could, "I know that you +went to see her out of the very great kindness of your heart--" + +"No, I didn't." + +I made a little gesture in lieu of reply. There was a span of silence. +Eleanor played with the silky ears of Agatha's little Yorkshire terrier +which had somehow strayed into the room and taken possession of her lap. + +"Don't you see, Simon?" she said at last, half tearfully, without taking +her eyes off the dog, "don't you see that by accusing me in this way +you make it almost impossible for me to speak? And I was going to be so +loyal to you." + +A tear fell down her cheek on to the dog's back, and convicted me of +unmitigated brutality. + +"What else could you be but loyal?" I murmured. "Your attitude all +through has shone it." + +She flashed her hand angrily over her eyes, and looked at me. "And I +wanted to be loyal to the end. If you had waited and she had waited, you +would have seen. As soon as I could have conveyed it to you decently, I +should have shown you----Ah!" She broke off, put the Yorkshire terrier +on the sofa beside her, and rose with an impatient gesture. "You want to +know why I called on Lola Brandt? I felt I had to know for myself what +kind of woman she was. She was the woman between us--you and me. You +don't suppose I ceased to care for you just because what we thought was +a fatal illness broke off our engagement! I did care for you. I cared +for you--in a way; I say 'in a way'--I'll tell you why later on. When we +met here the last time do you think I was not moved? I knew your altered +position would not allow you to suggest a renewal of the engagement so +I offered you the opportunity. Do you remember? But I could not tell +whether you still cared for me or whether you cared for the other woman. +So I had to go and see her. I couldn't bear to think that you might feel +in honour bound to take me at my word and be caring all the time for +some one else. I went to see her, and then I realised that I didn't +count. Don't ask why. Women know these things. And I found that she +loved you with a warmth and richness I'm incapable of. I felt I had +stepped into something big and splendid, as if I had been a caterpillar +walking into the heart of a red rose. I felt prim and small and petty. +Until then I had never known what love meant, and I didn't feel it; +I couldn't feel it. I couldn't give you a millionth part of what +that woman does. And I knew that having lived in that atmosphere, you +couldn't possibly be content with me. If you had waited, I should have +found some means of telling you so. That's what I meant by saying I +was loyal to you. And I thought I had made it clear to her. It seems I +didn't. It isn't my fault." + +"My dear," said I, when she had come to the end of this astonishing +avowal, and stood looking at me somewhat defiantly and twisting her +fingers nervously in front of her, "I don't know what in the world to +say to you." + +"You can tell me, at least, that my instinct was right." + +"Which one? A woman has so many." + +"That you love Lola Brandt." + +I lifted my arms in a helpless gesture and let them drop to my sides. + +"One is not one's own master in these things." + +"Then you do?" + +"Yes," said I in a low voice. + +Eleanor drew a long breath, turned and sat down again on the sofa. + +"And she knows it?" + +"I have told her so." + +"Then why in the world has she run away?" + +"Because you two wonderful and divinely foolish people have been too big +for each other. While you were impressed by one quality in her she was +equally impressed by another in you. She departed, burning her ships, so +as to go entirely out of my life for the simple reason, as she herself +expresses it, that she was not fit to black your boots. So," said I, +taking her left hand in mine and patting it gently, "between you two +dear, divine angel fools, I fall to the ground." + +A while later, just before we parted, she said in her frank way: + +"I know many people would say I've behaved with shocking +impropriety--immodestly and all that. You don't, do you? I believe half +the unhappiness in life comes from people being afraid to go straight +at things. Perhaps I've gone too straight this time--but you'll forgive +me?" + +I smiled and squeezed her hand. "My dear," said I, "Lola Brandt was +right. You are God's good angel." + +I went away in a chastened mood, no longer wrathful, for what could +woman do more for mortal man than what Eleanor Faversham had attempted? +She had gone to see whether she should stand against her rival, and with +a superb generosity, unprecedented in her sex, she had withdrawn. The +magnanimity of it overwhelmed me. I walked along the street exalting her +to viewless pinnacles of high-heartedness. And then, suddenly, the Devil +whispered in my ear that execrated word "eumoiriety." It poisoned the +rest of the day. It confirmed my conviction of the ironical designs of +Destiny. Destiny, not content with making me a victim of the accursed +principle in my own person, had used these two dear women as its +instruments in dealing me fresh humiliation. Where would it end? Where +could I turn to escape such an enemy? If I had been alone in green +fields instead of Sloane Square, I should have clapped my hands to my +head and prayed God not to drive me crazy. I should have cried wild vows +to the winds and shaken my fist at the sky and rolled upon the grass +and made a genteel idiot of myself. Nature would have understood. Men +do these things in time of stress, and I was in great stress. I loved +a woman for the first time in my life--and I was a man nearly forty. I +wanted her with every quivering nerve in me. And she was gone. Lost in +the vast expanse of Europe with a parcel of performing cats. Gone out of +my life loving me as I loved her, all on account of this Hell-invented +principle. Ye gods! If the fierce, pure, deep, abiding love of a man for +a woman is not a reality, what in this world of shadows is anything but +vapour? I grasped it tight, hugged it to my bosom--and now she was gone, +and in my ears rang the derisive laughter of the enemy. + +Where would it end? What would happen next? Nothing was too +outrageously, maniacally impossible. I walked up Sloane Street, a +street for which impeccable respectability, security of life and person, +comfortable, modern, twentieth-century, prosperous smugness has no +superior in all the smug cities of the earth, and I was prepared to +encounter with a smile of recognition anything that the whirling brains +of Bedlam had ever conceived. Why should not this little lady tripping +along with gold chain-bag and anxious, shopping knit of the brow, throw +her arms round my neck and salute me as her long-lost brother? Why +should not the patient horses in that omnibus suddenly turn into +griffins and begin to snort fire from their nostrils? Why should not +that policeman, who, on his beat, was approaching me with the heavy, +measured tread, suddenly arrest me for complicity in the Pazzi +Conspiracy or the Rye House Plot? Why should not the whole of the +decorous street suddenly change into the inconsequence of an Empire +ballet? Why should not the heavens fall down and universal chaos envelop +all? + +The only possible reason I can think of now is that the Almighty Powers +did not consider it worth while to go to quite so much trouble on my +account. + +This, however, gives you some idea of my state of mind. But though it +lasted for a considerable time, I would not have you believe that I +fostered it unduly. Indeed, I repudiated it with some disgust. I took it +out, examined it, and finding it preposterous, set to work to modify it +into harmony with the circumstances of my every-day life. Even the most +sorely tried of men cannot walk abroad shedding his exasperation around +like pestilence. If he does, he is put into a lunatic asylum. + +If a man cannot immediately assuage the hunger of his heart, he must +meet starvation with a smiling face. In the meantime, he has to eat so +as to satisfy the hunger of his body, to clothe himself with a certain +discrimination, to attend to polite commerce with his fellow man and to +put to some fair use the hours of his day. I did not doubt but that +by means of intelligent inquiry which I determined to pursue in every +possible direction I should sooner or later obtain news of Lola. A lady +with a troupe of performing cats could not for long remain in obscurity. +True, I might have gone in gallant quest of her; but I had had enough of +such fool adventures. I bided my time, consulted with Dale, who took +up the work of a private detective agency with his usual zeal, writing +letters to every crony who languished in the exile of foreign embassies, +and corresponding (unknown to Lady Kynnersley) with the agencies of +the International Aid Society, did what I could on my own account, and +turned my attention seriously to the regeneration of the Judds. + +As the affairs of one drunken tailor's family could not afford me +complete occupation for my leisure hours, I began to find myself +insensibly drawn by Campion's unreflecting enthusiasm into all kinds of +small duties connected with Barbara's Building. Before I could realise +that I had consented, I discovered myself in charge of an evening class +of villainous-looking and uncleanly youths who assembled in one of the +lecture-rooms to listen to my recollections of the history of England. +I was to continue the course begun by a young Oxford man, who, for some +reason or other, had migrated from Barbara's Building to Toynbee Hall. + +"I've never done any schoolmastering in my life. Suppose," said I, with +vivid recollections of my school days, "suppose they rag me?" + +"They won't," said Campion, who had come to introduce me to the class. + +And they did not. I found these five and twenty youthful members of the +proletariat the most attentive, respectable, and intelligent audience +that ever listened to a lecture. Gradually I came to perceive that they +were not as villainous-looking and uncleanly as at first sight I had +imagined. A great many of them took notes. When I came to the end of +my dissertation on Henry VIII, I went among them, as I discovered the +custom to be, and chatted, answering questions, explaining difficulties, +and advising as to a course of reading. The atmosphere of trust and +friendliness compensated for the lack of material sweetness. Here were +young men pathetically eager to learn, grateful for every crumb of +information that came from my lips. They reminded me of nothing more +than the ragged class of scholars around a teacher in a mediaeval +university. Some had vague dreams of eventually presenting themselves +for examinations, the Science and Art Department, the College of +Preceptors, the Matriculation of the University of London. Others +longed for education for its own sake, or rather as a means of raising +themselves in the social scale. Others, bitten by the crude Socialism of +their class, had been persuaded to learn something of past movements +of mankind so as to obtain some basis for their opinions. All were +in deadly earnest. The magnetic attraction between teacher and taught +established itself. After one or two lectures, I looked forward to the +next with excited interest. + +Other things Campion off-handedly put into my charge. I went on tours of +inspection round the houses of his competing housewives. I acted as his +deputy at the police court when ladies and gentlemen with a good record +at Barbara's got into trouble with the constabulary. I investigated +cases for the charity of the institution. In quite a short time +I realised with a gasp that I had become part of the machinery of +Barbara's Building, and was remorselessly and helplessly whirled hither +and thither with the rest of the force of the driving wheel which was +Rex Campion. + +The amazing, the astounding, the utterly incredible thing about the +whole matter was that I not only liked it, but plunged into it heart and +soul as I had never plunged into work before. I discovered sympathies +that had hitherto lain undreamed of within me. In my electioneering days +I had, it is true, foregathered with the sons of toil. I had shaken the +horny hands of men and the soap-suddy hands of women. I had flattered +them and cajoled them and shown myself mighty affable, as a sensible and +aspiring Parliamentary candidate should do; but the way to their hearts +I had never found, I had never dreamed of seeking. And now it seemed as +if the great gift had been bestowed on me--and I examined it with a new +and almost tremulous delight. + +Also, for the first time in all my life, I had taken pain to be the +companion of my soul. All my efforts to find Lola were fruitless. I +became acquainted with the heartache, the longing for the unattainable, +the agony of spirit. The only anodyne was a forgetfulness of self, the +only compensation a glimmer of a hope and the shadow of a smile in the +grey and leaden lives around me. + + + +On Whit Monday evening I was walking along the Thames Embankment on my +way home from Waterloo Station, wet through, tired out, disappointed, +and looking forward to the dry, soft raiment, the warm, cosy room, the +excellent dinner that awaited me in my flat. I--with several others--had +been helping Campion with his annual outing of factory girls and young +hooligans. The weather, which had been perfect on Saturday, Sunday, and +when we had started, a gay and astonishing army, at seven o'clock, had +broken before ten. It had rained, dully miserable, insistently all day +long. The happy day in the New Forest had been a damp and dismal fiasco. +I was returning home, thinking I might walk off an incipient chill, +as depressed as no one but the baffled philanthropist can be, when +I perceived a tattered and dejected man sitting on a bench, a +clothes-basket between his feet, his elbows on his knees, his head in +his hands, and sobbing as if his heart would break. As the spectacle +of a grown-up man crying bitterly in a public thoroughfare was somewhat +remarkable, I paused, and then in order to see whether his distress was +genuine, and also not to arouse his suspicions, I threw myself in an +exhausted manner on the bench beside him. He continued to sob. At last I +said, raising my voice: + +"You seem to be pretty miserable. What's wrong?" + +He turned bleared, yet honest-looking eyes upon me. + +"The whole blasted show!" said he. "There's nothing right in it, s'welp +me Gawd." + +I gave a modified assent to the proposition and drew my coat-collar over +my eyes. "Being wet through doesn't make it any better," said I. + +"Who would ha' thought it would come down as it has to-day? Tell me +that. It's enough to make a man cut his throat!" + +I was somewhat surprised. "You're not in such a great distress just +because it has been a rainy day!" + +"Ain't I just!" he exclaimed. "It's been and gone and ruined me, this +day has. Look 'ere, guv'nor, I'll tell you all about it. I've been out +of work, see? I was in 'orspital for three months and I couldn't get +nothing regular to do when I come out. I'm a packer by trade. I did odd +jobs, see, and the wife she earned a little, too, and we managed to keep +things going and to scrape together five shillings, that's three months' +savings, against Whitsun Bank Holiday. And as the weather was so fine, +I laid it all out in paper windmills to sell to the kids on 'Amstead +'Eath. And I started out this morning with the basket full of them all +so fine and pretty, and no sooner do I get on the 'Eath than the rain +comes down and wipes out the whole blooming lot, before I could sell +one. Look 'ere!" + +He drew a bedraggled sheet of newspaper from the clothes-basket and +displayed a piteous sodden welter of sticks and gaudy pulp. At the sight +of it he broke down again and sobbed like a child. + +"And there's not a bite in the 'ouse, nor not likely to be for days; +and I daren't go home and face the missus and the kids--and I wish I was +dead." + +I had already seen many pitiful tragedies during my brief experience +with Campion; but the peculiar pitifulness of this one wrung my heart. +It taught me as nothing had done before how desperately humble are the +aspirations of the poor. I thought of the cosy comfort that awaited me +in my own home; the despair that awaited him in his. + +I put my hand in my pocket. + +"You seem to be a good chap," said I. + +He shrugged his shoulders. The consciousness of applauded virtue offered +no consolation. I drew out a couple of half-crowns and threw them into +the basket. + +"For the missus and the kids," said I. + +He picked them out of the welter, and holding them in his hand, looked +at me stupidly. + +"Can you afford it, guv'nor?" + +At first I thought this remark was some kind of ill-conditioned sarcasm; +but suddenly I realised that dripping wet and covered with mud from head +to foot, with a shapeless, old, green, Homburg hat drooping forlornly +about my ears, I did not fulfil his conception of the benevolent +millionaire. I laughed, and rose from the bench. + +"Yes. Quite well. Better luck next time." + +I nodded a good-bye, and walked away. After a minute, he came running +after me. + +"'Ere," said he, "I ain't thanked yer. Gawd knows how I'm going to do +it. I can't! But, 'ere--would you mind if I chucked a lot of the stuff +into the river and told the missus I had sold it, and just got back my +money? She's proud, she is, and has never accepted a penny in charity in +her life. It's only because it would be better for 'er." + +He looked at me with such earnest appeal that I saw that the saving of +his wife's pride was a serious matter. + +"Of course," said I, "and here's a few ha'pence to add to it, so as to +give colour to the story." + +He saw that I understood. "Thank you kindly, sir," said he. + +"Tell me," said I, "do you love your wife?" + +He gaped at me for a moment; obviously the question had never been put +to him either by himself or anybody else. Then, seeing that my interest +was genuine, he spat and scratched his head. + +"We've been together twenty years," he said, in a low voice, emotion +struggling with self-consciousness, "and I've 'ad nothing agin her all +that time. She's a bloomin' wonder, I tell you straight." + +I held out my hand. "At any rate, you've got what I haven't," said I. "A +woman who loves you to welcome you home." + +And I went away, longing, longing for Lola's arms and the deep love in +her voice. + +Now that I come to view my actions in some sort of perspective, it seems +to me that it was the underlying poignancy of this trumpery incident--a +poignancy which, nevertheless, bit deep into my soul, that finally +determined the current of my life. + +A short while afterwards, Campion, who for some time past had found the +organisation of Barbara's Building had far outgrown his individual +power of control, came to me with a proposal that I should undertake the +management of the institution under his general directorship. As he knew +of my financial affairs and of my praiseworthy but futile efforts to +live on two hundred a year, he offered me another two hundred by way of +salary and quarters in the Building. I accepted, moved the salvage of my +belongings from Victoria Street to Lambeth, and settled down to the work +for which a mirth-loving Providence had destined me from my cradle. + +When I told Agatha, she nearly fainted. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +No sooner had I moved into Barbara's Building and was preparing to begin +my salaried duties than I received news which sent me off post haste +to Berlin. And just as it was not I but Anastasius Papadopoulos who +discovered Captain Vauvenarde, so, in this case, it was Dale who +discovered Lola. + +He burst in upon me one day, flourishing a large visiting-card, which he +flung down on the table before my eyes. + +"Do you recognise that?" + +It was the familiar professional card of the unhappy Anastasius. + +"Yes." + +"Do you see the last line?" + +I read "London Agents: Messrs. Conto and Blag, 172 Maiden Lane, W.C." I +looked up. "Well?" I asked. + +"It has done the trick," said he triumphantly. "What fools we were not +to have thought of it before. I was rooting out a drawer of papers and +came across the card. You remember he handed us one all round the +first day we met him. I put it away--I'm rather a methodical devil with +papers, as you know. When I found it, I danced a hornpipe all round the +room and went straight off to Conto and Blag. I made certain she would +work through them, as they were accustomed to shop the cats, and I found +I was right. They knew all about her. Wouldn't give her address, but +told me that she was appearing this week at the Winter Garten at Berlin. +Why that pudding-headed quagga, Bevan, at the Embassy, hasn't kept his +eyes open for me, as he promised," he went on a while later, "I don't +know! I can understand Eugen Pattenhausen, the owl-eyed coot who +runs the International Aid Society, not doing a hand's turn to aid +anybody--but Bevan! For Heaven's sake, while you're there call at the +Embassy and kick him." + +"You forget, my dear boy," said I, with a laugh, for his news had +made me light-hearted, "you forget that I have entered upon a life +of self-denial, and one of the luxuries I must deny myself is that of +kicking attaches." + +"I've a good mind to go with you and do it myself. But it'll keep. Do +you know, it's rather quaint, isn't it?" he said, after a pause, as if +struck by a luminous idea--"It's rather quaint that it should be I who +am playing the little tin god on wheels for you two, and saying 'Bless +you, my children.'" + +"I thought the humour of the situation couldn't fail to strike you at +last." + +"Yes," said he, knitting his brows into an air of dark reflection "it is +funny. Devilish funny!" + +I dismissed him with grateful words, and in a flutter of excitement went +in search of Campion, whom I was lucky to find in the building. + +"I'm sorry to ask for leave of absence," said I, "before I've actually +taken up my appointment; but I must do so. I am summoned at once to +Berlin on important business." + +Campion gave willing consent. "How long will you be away?" + +"That depends," said I, with a smile which I meant to be enigmatic, but +assuredly must have been fatuous, "upon my powers of persuasion." + +I had bright thoughts of going to Berlin and back in a meteoric flash, +bringing Lola with me on my return journey, to marry her out of hand +as soon as we reached London. Cats and Winter Gartens concerned me but +little, and of trifles like contracts I took no account. + +"If you're there any time," said Campion, tugging thoughtfully at his +black beard, "you might look into what the Germans are doing with regard +to Female Rescue Work. You might pick up a practical tip or two for use +down here." + +What a thing it is to be a man of one idea! I gave him an evasive answer +and rushed away to make the necessary preparations for my journey. I was +absurdly, boyishly happy. No doubt as to my success crossed my mind. +It was to be my final and triumphant adventure. Unless the High Powers +stove a hole in the steamer or sent another railway train to collide +with mine, the non-attainment of my object seemed impossible. I had but +to go, to be seen, to conquer. + +I arrived safely in Berlin at half-past seven in the evening, and drove +to a modest hotel in the Kaiserstrasse, where I had engaged a room. My +first inquiry was for a letter from Lola. To my disappointment nothing +awaited me. I had telegraphed to her at the Winter Garten the day +before, and I had written as well. A horrible surmise began to dance +before me. Suppose Messrs. Conto and Blag had given Dale erroneous +information! I grew sick and faint at the thought. What laughter there +would be in Olympus over my fool journey! In great agitation I clamoured +for a programme of the Winter Garten entertainment. The hotel clerk put +it into my trembling hands. There was no mention of Madame Lola Brandt, +but to my unspeakable comfort I saw the announcement: + + +"Professorin Anastasius Papadopoulos und ihre wunderbaren Katzen." + + +Lola was working the cats under the little man's name. That was why +she had baffled the inquiries instituted by Dale and myself and had not +received my telegram. I scribbled a hasty note in which I told her of +my arrival, my love, and my impatience; that I proposed to witness the +performance that evening, and to meet her immediately afterwards at the +stage-door. This, addressed to the Professorin Anastasius Papadopoulos, +I despatched by special messenger to the Winter Garten. After a hasty +toilet and a more hurried meal, I went out, and, too impatient to walk, +I hailed a droschky, and drove through the wide, cheery streets of +Berlin. It was a balmy June evening. The pavements were thronged. +Through the vast open fronts of the cafes one saw agglutinated masses +of people just cleft here and there by white-jacketed waiters darting +to and fro with high-poised trays of beer and coffee. Save these and the +folks in theatres all Berlin was in the streets, taking the air. A sense +of gaiety pervaded the place, organised and recognised, as though it +were as much part of a Berliner's duty to himself, the Fatherland, and +the Almighty to be gay when the labours of the day are over as to be +serious during business hours. He goes through it with a grave face and +enjoys himself prodigiously. Your Latin when he fills the street with +jest and laughter obeys the ebullience of his temperament; your Teuton +always seems to be conscientiously obeying a book of regulations. + +I soon arrived at the Winter Garten and secured a stall near the stage. +The vast building was packed with a smoking and perspiring multitude. +In shape it was like a long tunnel or a long, narrow railway station, an +impression intensified by a monotonous barrel roof. This was, however, +painted blue and decorated with myriads of golden stars. Along one side +ran a gallery where those who liked to watch the performance and eat a +six-course dinner at the same time could do so in elaborate comfort. In +the centre of the opposite side was the stage, and below it, grouped in +a semi-circle, the orchestra. Beneath the starry roof hung long wisps of +smoke clouds. + +The performance had only just begun and Lola's turn was seventh on the +list. I reflected that greater deliberation in my movements would have +suited the maturity of my years, besides enabling me to eat a more +digestible dinner. I had come with the unreasoning impatience of a boy, +fully conscious that I was too early, yet desperately anxious not to be +too late. I laughed at myself indulgently and patted the boy in me +on the head. Meanwhile, I gave myself up with mild interest to the +entertainment provided. It was the same as that at any music-hall, +winter garden, or variety theatre the world over. The same brawny +gentlemen in tights made human pyramids out of themselves and played +football with the little boys and minced with their aggravating steps +down to the footlights; the same red-nosed clown tried to emulate his +dashing companion on the horizontal bars, pulling himself up, to the +eternal delight of the audience, by the seat of his baggy breeches, and +hanging his hat on the smooth steel upright; the same massive lady with +the deep chest sang sentimental ballads; the same China-man produced +warrens of rabbits and flocks of pigeons from impossible receptacles; +the same half-dozen scantily clad damsels sang the same inane chorus in +the same flat baby voices and danced the same old dance. Mankind in the +bulk is very young; it is very easily amused and, like a child, clamours +for the oft-repeated tale. + +The curtain went down on the last turn before Lola's. I felt a curious +suspense, and half wished that I had not come to see the performance. +I shrank from finding her a million miles away from me, a new, remote +creature, impersonal as those who had already appeared on the stage. +Mingled with this was a fear lest she might not please this vast +audience. Failure, I felt, would be as humiliating to me as to her. +Agatha, I remembered, confessed to the same feeling with regard to +myself when I made my first speech in the House of Commons. But then +I had an incontrovertible array of facts and arguments, drawn up by an +infallible secretary and welded into cunning verbiage by myself, which +I learned off by heart. And the House, as I knew it would, had been +half asleep. I couldn't fail. But Lola had to please three thousand +wide-awake Berlin citizens, who had paid their money for entertainment, +with no other equipment than her own personality and the tricks of a set +of wretched irresponsible cats. + +The orchestra struck up the act music. The curtains parted, and revealed +the brightly polished miniature gymnasium I had seen at Anastasius's +cattery; the row of pussies at the back, each on a velvet stand, some +white, some tabby, some long-furred, some short-furred, all sitting with +their forepaws doubled demurely under their chests, wagging their tails +comically, and blinking with feline indifference at the footlights; a +cage in a corner in which I descried the ferocious wild tomcat; +and, busily putting the last touches to the guy ropes, the pupil and +assistant Quast, neatly attired in a close fitting bottle-green uniform +with brass buttons. Almost immediately Lola appeared, in a shimmering +gold evening gown, and with a necklet of barbaric gold round her neck. +I had never seen her so magnificently, so commandingly beautiful. I +was conscious of a ripple of admiration running through the huge +assembly--and it was a queer sensation, half pride, half angry jealousy. +My immediate neighbors were emphatic in their praise. Applause greeted +her. She smiled acknowledgments and, flicking the little toy whip which +she carried in her hand, she began the act. First of all, the cats +jumped from their stands, right-turned like a military line, and walked +in procession round the stage. At a halt and a signal each pussy put its +front paws on its front neighbour and the march began again. Then Lola +did something with voice and whip, and each cat dropped on its paws, and +as if by magic there appeared a space between every animal. + +At a further word the last cat jumped over the one in front and over the +one in front of that and so on until, having cleared the first cat, +it leaped on to its stand where it began to lick itself placidly. +Meanwhile, the penultimate cat had begun the same evolution, and then +the ante-penultimate cat, until all the cats had cleared the front one +and had taken their positions on their stands. The last cat, left alone, +looked round, yawned in the face of the audience, and, turning tail, +regained its stand with the air of unutterable boredom. The audience, +delighted, applauded vehemently. I raised my hands as I clapped them, +trying vainly and foolishly to catch Lola's eye. + +At a tap of her whip a white angora and a sleek tabby jumped from +the stands and took up their positions one at each end of a miniature +tight-rope. Lola stuck a tiny Japanese umbrella in the collar of each +and sent them forth on their perilous journey. When they met in the +middle, they spat and caterwauled and argued spitefully. The audience +shrieked. Then by a miracle the cats cleared each other and pursued +their sedate and cautious ways to their respective ends of the rope. The +next act was a team of a dozen rats drawing a tiled chariot driven by +a stolid coal-black cat with green, expressionless eyes, down an aisle +formed by the other cats who sat in solemn contemplation on their tails. +There was no doubt of Lola's success. The tricks were as marvellous +in themselves as their execution was flawless. During the applause I +noticed her eagerly scanning the sea of faces. Her eyes seemed to be +turned in my direction. I waved my handkerchief, and instinct told me +that at last she recognised the point of pink and the flutter of white +as me. + +Then the stage was cleared of the gentle cats and the wire cage +containing Hephaestus was pushed forward by Quast. He showed off the +ferocious beast's quality by making it dash itself against the wires, +arch its huge back, and shoot out venomous claws. Lola commanded him +by sign to open the cage. He approached in simulated terror, Hephaestus +uttering blood-curdling howls, and every time he touched the handle of +the door Hephaestus sprang at him like a tiger with the tomcat's +hateful hiss. At last, amid the laughter of the audience (for this was +prearranged business), Quast suddenly refused to obey his mistress any +more, and went and sat on the floor in the corner of the stage. Then +Lola, with a glance of contempt at him for his poltroonery and a glance +of confidence at the audience, opened the cage door and dragged the +gigantic and malevolent brute out by the scruff of its neck and held it +up like a rabbit, as she had done in Anastasius's cattery. + +Suddenly her iron grip seemed to relax; she made one or two ineffectual +efforts to retain it and the brute dropped to the ground. She looked at +it for a second disconcerted as if she had lost her nerve, and then, +in a horrible flash, the beast sprang at her face. She uttered piercing +screams. The blood spurted from the ghastly claws. Quick as lightning +Quast leapt forward and dragged it off. Lola clapped both hands to her +eyes, and reeled and tottered to the wings, where I saw a man's two arms +receive her. The last thing I saw was Quast kneeling on the beast on the +floor mastering him by some professional clutch. Then there rang out a +sharp whistle and the curtain went down with a run. + +I rose, sick with horror, barely conscious of the gasping excitement +that prevailed around me, and blindly groped my path through the crowded +rows of folk towards the door. I had only proceeded half-way when a +sudden silence made me turn, and I saw a man addressing the audience +from the stage. Apparently it was the manager. He regretted to have +to inform the audience that Madame Papadopoulos would not be able +to conclude her most interesting performance that evening as she +had unfortunately received injuries of a very grave nature. Then he +signalled to the orchestra, who crashed into a loud and vulgar march +with clanging brass and thundering drum. It sounded so cynically and +hideously inhuman that I trampled recklessly over people in my mad rush +to the exit. + +I found the stage-door, where a knot of the performers were assembled, +talking of the horrible accident. I pushed my way shiveringly through +them, and tried to rush into the building, but was checked by a burly +porter. I explained incoherently in my rusty German. I came for news of +Madame Papadopoulos. I was her _Verlobter_ I declared, with a gush of +inspiration. Whether he believed that I was her affianced I know not, +but he bade me wait, and disappeared with my card. I became at once +the object of the curiosity of the loungers. I heard them whispering +together as they pointed me out and pitying me. The cat had torn her +face away said one woman. I put my hands over my ears so as not to hear. +Presently the porter returned with a stout person in authority, who drew +me into the stage-doorkeeper's box. + +"You are a friend of Frau Papadopoulos?" + +"Friend!" I cried. "She is to be my wife. I am in a state of horror and +despair. Tell me what has happened." + +Seeing my condition, he laid aside his official manner and became human. +It was a dreadful accident, said he. The beast had apparently got its +claws in near her eyes; but what were her exact injuries he could not +tell, as her face was all over blood and she had fainted with the pain. +The doctor was with her. He had telephoned for an ambulance. I was to be +quite certain that she would receive every possible attention. He would +give my card to the doctor. Meanwhile I was quite at liberty to remain +in the box till the ambulance came. I thanked him. + +"In the meantime," said I, "if you can let me have a word with Fraulein +Dawkins, her maid, should she be in the theatre, or Quast her attendant, +I should be grateful." + +He promised and withdrew. The doorkeeper gave me a wooden chair, and +there I sat for an unconscionable time, faint and dizzy with suspense. +The chance words I had heard in the crowd, the manager's remark about +the claws, the memory of the savage spring at the beloved face made me +feel sick. Every now and then, as some doors leading to the stage swung +open, I could hear the orchestra and the laughter and applause of +the audience. Both Dawkins and Quast visited me. The former was in a +helpless state of tears and hand-wringing. As she knew no word of German +she could understand nothing that the doctors or others said. Madame was +unconscious. Her head was tightly bandaged. That was all the definite +information she had. + +"Did Madame know I was in front to-night?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes, sir! I think she had a letter from you. She was so pleased, +poor dear Madame. She told me that you would see the best performance +she had ever given." + +Whereupon she broke down and was useless for further examination. Then +Quast came. He could not understand how the accident had occurred. +Hephaestus had never before tried to attack her. She had absolute +mastery over him, and he usually behaved with her as gently as any of +the other cats. With himself it was quite different. He was accustomed +to Hephaestus springing at him; but then he beat him hard with a great +stick until he was so sore that he could neither stand up nor lie down. + +"I have always implored Madame to carry something heavier than that +silly little whip, and now it's all over. She will never be able to +control him again. Hephaestus will have to be killed, and I will be +desolate. Ach, what a misfortune!" + +He began to weep. + +"Good God!" I cried; "you don't mean to say that you're sorry for the +brute?" + +"One can't help being fond of him. We have been for five years +inseparable companions!" + +I had no sympathy to fling away on him at that moment. + +"How do you account for his spring at Madame to-night? That's all I want +to know." + +"She must have been thinking of something else when she grabbed him. For +she missed her grip. Then he fell and was frightened, and she must have +lost her nerve. Hephaestus knew it, and sprang. That is always the case +when wild animals turn. All accidents happen like that." + +His words filled me with a new and sickening dread. + +_"She must have been thinking of something else."_ Of what else but of +my presence there? That stupid, selfish wave of the handkerchief! I sat +gnawing my hands and cursing myself. + +The ambulance arrived. Men hurried past my box. I waited again in agony +of mind. At last the porter came and cleared the passage and doorway of +loungers, and I heard the tread of footsteps and gruff directions. The +manager and a man in a frock-coat and black tie, whom I recognised as +the doctor, came down the passage, followed by two great men carrying +between them a stretcher covered by a sheet on which lay all that I +loved in life. Dawkins followed, weeping, and then came several theatre +folk. I went outside and saw the stretcher put into the ambulance-van, +and then I made myself known to the doctor. + +"She has received very great injuries--chiefly the right cheek and eye. +So much so that she needs an oculist's care at once. I have telephoned +to Dr. Steinholz, of No. 4, Thiergarten, one of our ablest oculists, to +receive her now into his clinique. If you care to do so, you are welcome +to accompany me." + +I drove through the gay, flaring streets of Berlin like a man in a +phantasmagoria of horror. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +The first time they allowed me to see her was after many days of +nerve-racking anxiety. I had indeed called at the clinique two or three +times a day for news, and I had written short letters of comfort and +received weirdly-spelt messages taken down from Lola's dictation by a +nurse with an imperfect knowledge of English. These kept the heart in +me; for the doctor's reports were invariably grave--possible loss of +sight in the injured eye and permanent disfigurement their most hopeful +prognostications. I lived, too, in a nervous agony of remorse. For +whatever happened I held myself responsible. At first they thought her +life was in danger. I passed nightmare days. Then the alarming symptoms +subsided, and it was a question of the saving of the eye and the decent +healing of the cheek torn deep by the claws of the accursed brute. When +Quast informed me of its summary execution I felt the primitive savage +arise in me, and I upbraided Quast for not having invited me to gloat +over its expiring throes. How the days passed I know not. I wandered +about the streets, looking into the windows of the great shops, buying +flowers and fruit for Lola in eccentric quantities. Or sitting in +beerhouses reading the financial pages of a German paper held upside +down. I could not return to London. Still less could I investigate +the German philanthropic methods of rescuing fallen women. I wrote to +Campion a brief account of what had happened and besought him to set a +deputy to work on the regeneration of the Judds. + +At last they brought me to where Lola lay, in a darkened room, with her +head tightly bandaged. A dark mass spread over the pillow which I knew +was her glorious hair. I could scarcely see the unbandaged half of her +face. She still suffered acute pain, and I was warned that my visit +could only be of brief duration, and that nothing but the simplest +matters could be discussed. I sat down on a chair by the left side of +the bed. Her wonderful nervous hand clung round mine as we talked. + +The first thing she said to me, in a weak voice, like the faint echo of +her deep tones, was: + +"I'm going to lose all my good looks, Simon, and you won't care to look +at me any more." + +She said it so simply, so tenderly, without a hint of reproach in it, +that I almost shouted out my horrible remorse; but I remembered my +injunctions and refrained. I strove to comfort her, telling her mythical +tales of surgical reassurances. She shook her head sadly. + +"It was like you to stay in Berlin, Simon," she said, after a while. +"Although they wouldn't let me see you, yet I knew you were within call. +You can't conceive what a comfort it has been." + +"How could I leave you, dear," said I, "with the thought of you +throbbing in my head night and day?" + +"How did you find me?" + +"Through Conto and Blag. I tried all other means, you may be sure. But +now I've found you I shan't let you go again." + +This was not the time for elaborate explanations. She asked for +none. When one is very ill one takes the most unlikely happenings as +commonplace occurrences. It seemed enough to her that I was by her side. +We talked of her nurses, who were kind; of the skill of Dr. Steinholz, +who brought into his clinique the rigid discipline of a man-of-war. + +"He wouldn't even let me have your flowers," she said. "And even if he +had I shouldn't have been able to see them in this dark hole." + +She questioned me as to my doings. I told her of my move to Barbara's +Building. + +"And I'm keeping you from all that splendid work," she said weakly. "You +must go back at once, Simon. I shall get along nicely now, and I shall +be happy now that I've seen you again." + +I kissed her fingers. "You have to learn a lesson, my dear, which will +do you an enormous amount of good." + +"What is that?" + +"The glorious duty of selfishness." + +Then the minute hand of the clock marked the end of the interview, and +the nurse appeared on the click and turned me out. + +After that I saw her daily; gradually our interviews lengthened, and as +she recovered strength our talks wandered from the little incidents and +interests of the sick-room to the general topics of our lives. I told +her of all that had happened to me since her flight. And I told her that +I wanted her and her only of all women. + +"Why--oh, why, did you do such a foolish thing?" I asked. + +"I did it for your good." + +"My dear, have you ever heard the story of the tender-hearted elephant? +No? It was told in a wonderful book published years ago and called +'The Fables of George Washington AEsop.' This is it. There was once an +elephant who accidentally trod on the mother of a brood of newly-hatched +chickens. Her tender heart filled with remorse for what she had done, +and, overflowing with pity for the fluffy orphans, she wept bitterly, +and addressed them thus: 'Poor little motherless things, doomed to face +the rough world without a parent's care, I myself will be a mother to +you.' Whereupon, gathering them under her with maternal fondness, she +sat down on the whole brood." + +The unbandaged half of her face lit up with a wan smile. "Did I do +that?" + +"I didn't conceive it possible that you could love me except for the +outside things." + +"You might have waited and seen," said I in mild reproof. + +She sighed. "You'll never understand. Do you remember my saying once +that you reminded me of an English Duke?" + +"Yes." + +"You made fun of me; but you must have known what I meant. You see, +Simon, you didn't seem to care a hang for me in that way--until quite +lately. You were goodness and kindness itself, and I felt that you +would stick by me as a friend through thick and thin; but I had given up +hoping for anything else. And I knew there was some one only waiting for +you, a real refined lady. So when you kissed me, I didn't dare believe +it. And I had made you kiss me. I told you so, and I was as ashamed as +if I had suddenly turned into a loose woman. And when Miss Faversham +came, I knew it would be best for you to marry her, for all the +flattering things she said to me, I knew--" + +"My dear," I interrupted, "you didn't know at all. I loved you ever +since I saw you first lying like a wonderful panther in your chair at +Cadogan Gardens. You wove yourself into all my thoughts and around all +my actions. One of these days I'll show you a kind of diary I used to +keep, and you'll see how I abused you behind your back." + +Her face--or the dear half of it that was visible--fell. "Oh, why?" + +"For making me turn aside from the nice little smooth path to the +grave which I had marked out for myself. I regarded myself as a genteel +semi-corpse, and didn't want to be disturbed." + +"And I disturbed you?" + +"Until I danced with fury and called down on your dear head maledictions +which for fulness and snap would have made a mediaeval Pope squirm with +envy." + +She pressed my hand. "You are making fun again. I thought you were +serious." + +"I am. I'm telling you exactly what happened. Then, when I was rapidly +approaching the other world, it didn't matter. At last I died and came +to life again; but it took me a long time to come really to life. I was +like a tree in spring which has one bud which obstinately refuses to +burst into blossom. At last it did burst, and all the love that had +been working in my heart came to my lips; and, incidentally, my dear, to +yours." + +This was at the early stages of her recovery, when one could only speak +of gentle things. She told me of her simple Odyssey--a period of waiting +in Paris, an engagement at Vienna and Budapest, and then Berlin. Her +agents had booked a week in Dresden, and a fortnight in Homburg, and she +would have to pay the forfeit for breach of contract. + +"I'm sorry for Anastasius's sake," she said. "The poor little mite wrote +me rapturous letters when he heard I was out with the cats. He gave me a +long special message for each, which I was to whisper in its ear." + +Poor little Anastasius Papadopoulos! She showed me his letters, written +in a great round, flourishing, sanguine hand. He seemed to be happy +enough at the Maison de Sante. He had formed, he said, a school for the +cats of the establishment, for which the authorities were very grateful, +and he heralded the completion of his gigantic combinations with regard +to the discovery of the assassin of the horse Sultan. Lola and I never +spoke of him without pain; for in spite of his crazy and bombastic +oddities, he had qualities that were lovable. + +"And now," said Lola, "I must tell him that Hephaestus has been killed +and the rest are again idling under the care of the faithful Quast. It +seemed a pity to kill the poor beast." + +"I wish to Heaven," said I, "that he had been strangled at birth." + +"You never liked him." She smiled wanly. "But he is scarcely to be +blamed. I grew unaccountably nervous and lost control. All savage +animals are like that." And, seeing that I was about to protest +vehemently, she smiled again. "Remember, I'm a lion-tamer's daughter, +and brought up from childhood to regard these things as part of the +show. There must always come a second's failure of concentration. Lots +of tamers meet their deaths sooner or later for the same reason--just a +sudden loss of magnetism. The beast gets frightened and springs." + +Exactly what Quast had told me. Exactly what I myself had divined at +the sickening moment. I bowed my head and laid the back of her cool hand +against it, and groaned out my remorse. If I had not been there! If +I had not distracted her attention! She would not listen to my +self-reproach. It had nothing to do with me. She had simply missed her +grip and lost her head. She forbade me to mention the subject again. The +misery of thinking that I held myself to blame was unbearable. I said no +more, realising the acute distress of her generous soul, but in my heart +I made a deep vow of reparation. + +It was, however, with no such chivalrous feelings, but out of the simple +longing to fulfil my life that I asked her definitely, for the first +time, to marry me as soon as she could get about the world again. I put +before her with what delicacy I could that if she had foolish ideas of +my being above her in station, she was above me in worldly fortune, and +thus we both had to make some sacrifices to our pride. I said that my +work was found--that our lives could be regulated as she wished. + +She listened, without saying a word, until I had finished. Then she took +my hand. + +"I'm grateful," she said, "and I'm proud. And I know that I love you +beyond all things on earth. But I won't give you an answer till I'm up +and about on my feet again." + +"Why?" I insisted. + +"Don't ask. And don't mention the matter again. You must be good to me, +because I'm ill, and do what I say." + +She smiled and fondled my hand, and cajoled a reluctant promise from me. + +Then came days in which, for no obvious reason, Lola received me +with anxious frightened diffidence, and spoke with constraint. The +cheerfulness which she had hitherto exhibited gave place to dull +depression. She urged me continually to leave Berlin, where, as she +said, I was wasting my time, and return to my work in London. + +"I shall be all right, Simon, perfectly all right, and as soon as I can +travel, I'll come straight to London." + +"I'm not going to let you slip through my fingers again," I would say +laughingly. + +"But I promise you, I'll swear to you I'll come back! Only I can't bear +to think of you idling around a woman's sick-bed, when you have such +glorious things to do at home. That's a man's work, Simon. This isn't." + +"But it is a man's work," I would declare, "to devote himself to the +woman he loves and not to leave her helpless, a stranger in a strange +land." + +"I wish you would go, Simon. I do wish you would go!" she would say +wearily. "It's the only favour I've ever asked you in my life." + +Man-like, I looked within myself to find the reason for these earnest +requests. In casting off my jester's suit had I also divested myself of +the power to be a decently interesting companion? Had I become merely a +dull, tactless, egotistical bore? Was I, in simple, naked, horrid fact, +getting on an invalid's delicate nerves? I was scared of the new picture +of myself thus presented. I became self-conscious and made particular +efforts to bring a little gaiety into our talk; but though she smiled +with her lips, the cloud, whatever it was, hung heavily on her mind, and +at the first opportunity she came back to the ceaseless argument. + +In despair I took her nurse into my confidence. + +"She is right," said the nurse. "You are doing her more harm than good. +You had better go away and write to her daily from London." + +"But why--but why?" I clamoured. "Can't you give me any reason?" + +The nurse glanced at me with a touch of feminine scorn. + +"The bandages will soon be removed." + +"Well?" said I. + +"The sight of one eye may be gone." + +"I know," said I. "She is reconciled to it. She has the courage and +resignation of a saint." + +"She has also the very common and natural fears of a woman." + +"For Heaven's sake," I cried, "tell me plainly what you mean." + +"We don't quite know what disfigurement will result," said the nurse +bluntly. "It is certain to be very great, and the dread of your seeing +her is making her ill and retarding her recovery. So if you have any +regard for her, pack up your things and go away." + +"But," I remonstrated, "I'm bound to see her sooner or later." + +The nurse lost patience. "Ach! Can't you get it into your head that it +is essential it should be later, when she is strong enough to stand the +strain and has realised the worst and made her little preparations?" + +I accepted the rebuke meekly. The situation, when explained, was +comprehensible to the meanest masculine intelligence. + +"I will go," said I. + +When I announced this determination to Lola she breathed a deep sigh of +relief. + +"I shall be so much happier," she said. + +Then she raised both her arms and drew my head down until our lips met. +"Dear," she whispered, still holding me, "if I hadn't run away from you +before I should run away now; but it would be silly to do it twice. So +I'll come to London as soon as the doctor will let me. But if you find +you don't and can't possibly love me I shan't feel hurt with you. I've +had some months, I know, of your love, and that will last me all my +life; and I know that whatever happens you'll be my very dear and +devoted friend." + +"I shall be your lover always!" I swore. + +She shook her head and released me. A great pity welled up in my heart, +for I know now why she had forbidden me to speak of marriage, and in +some dim way I got to the depth of her woman's nature. I realised, +as far as a man can, how the sudden blasting of a woman's beauty must +revolutionise not only her own attitude towards the world, but her +conception of the world's attitude towards her. Only a few weeks before +she had gone about proudly conscious of her superb magnificence. It was +the triumphant weapon in her woman's armoury, to use when she so chose. +It had illuminated a man's journey (I knew and felt it now) through the +Valley of the Shadow. It had held his senses captive. It had brought him +to her feet. It was a charm that she could always offer to his eyes. +It was her glory and her pride to enhance it for his delectation. Her +beauty was herself. That gone, she had nothing but a worthless soul to +offer, and what woman would dream of offering a man her soul if she had +no casket in which to enshrine it? If I had presented this other aspect +of the case to Lola, she would have cried out, with perfect sincerity: + +"My soul! You get things like mine anywhere for twopence a dozen." + +It was the blasting of her beauty that was the infinite matter. All +that I loved would be gone. She would have nothing left to give. The +splendour of the day had ceased, and now was coming the long, long, +dreary night, to meet which with dignity she was nerving her brave +heart. + +The tears were not far from my eyes when I said again softly: + +"Your lover always, dear." + +"Make no promises," she said, "except one." + +"And that is?" + +"That you will write me often until I come home." + +"Every day." + +So we parted, and I returned to London and to my duties at Barbara's +Building. I wrote daily, and her dictated answers gave me knowledge of +her progress. To my immense relief, I heard that the oculist's skill had +saved her eyesight; but it could not obliterate the traces of the cruel +claws. + +The days, although fuller with work and interests, appeared long until +she came. I saw but little of the outside world. Dale, my sister Agatha, +Sir Joshua Oldfield, and Campion were the only friends I met. Dale was +ingenuously sympathetic when he head of the calamity. + +"What's going to happen?" he asked, after he had exhausted his +vocabulary of abuse on cats, Providence and Anastasius Papadopoulos. +"What's the poor dear going to do?" + +"If I am going to have any voice in the matter," said I, "she is going +to marry me." + +He wrung me by the hand enthusiastically and declared that I was the +splendidest fellow that ever lived. Then he sighed. + +"I am going about like a sheep without a leader. For Heaven's sake, +come back into politics. Form a hilarious little party of your +own--anything--so long as you're back and take me with you." + +"Come to Barbara's Building," said I. + +But he made a wry face, and said that he did not think Maisie would like +it. I laughed and put my hand on his shoulder. + +"My son, you have a leader already, and she has already tied a blue +riband round your woolly neck, and she is pulling you wherever she wants +to go. And it's all to the infinite advantage of your eternal soul." + +Whereupon he grinned and departed to the sheepfold. + +At last Lola came. She begged me not to meet her at the station, but to +go round after dinner to Cadogan Gardens. + +Dawkins opened the door for me and showed me into the familiar +drawing-room. The long summer day was nearing its end, and only a dim +twilight came through the open windows. Lola was standing rigid on the +hearthrug, her hand shielding the whole of the right side of her face. +With the free hand she checked my impetuous advance. + +"Stop and look!" she said, and then dropped the shielding hand, and +stood before me with twitching lips and death in her eyes. I saw in a +flash the devastation that had been wrought; but, thank God, I pierced +beneath it to the anguish in her heart. The pity--the awful, poignant +pity--of it smote me. Everything that was man in me surged towards her. +What she saw in my eyes I know not; but in hers dawned a sudden wonder. +There was no recoil of shock, such as she had steeled herself to +encounter. I sprang forward and clasped her in my arms. Her stiffened +frame gradually relaxed and our lips met, and in that kiss all fears and +doubts were dissolved for ever. + +Some hours later she said: "If you are blind enough to care for a maimed +thing like me, I can't help it. I shall never understand it to my dying +day," she added with a long sigh. + +"And you will marry me?" + +"I suppose I've got to," she replied. And with the old pantherine twist +of her body she slid from her easy-chair to the ground and buried her +face on my knees. + + + +And that is the end of my story. We were quietly married three weeks +afterwards. Agatha, wishing to humour a maniac for whom she retained an +unreasonable affection, came to the wedding and treated Lola as only a +sweet lady could. But my doings passed her understanding. As for Jane, +my other sister, she cast me from her. People who did these things, she +maintained, must bear the consequences. I bore them bravely. It is only +now that my name is beginning to be noised abroad as that of one who +speaks with some knowledge on certain social questions that Jane holds +out the olive branch of fraternal peace. After a brief honeymoon Lola +insisted on joining me in Barbara's Building. A set of rooms next to +mine was vacant, and Campion, who welcomed a new worker, had the two +sets thrown into what house-agents term a commodious flat. She is now +Lady Superior of the Institution. The title is Campion's, and for some +odd feminine reason Lola is delighted with it. + +Yes, this is the end of the story which I began (it seems in a previous +incarnation) at Murglebed-on-Sea. + +The maiming of Lola's beauty has been the last jest which the +Arch-Jester has practised on me. I fancy he thought that this final +scurvy trick would wipe Simon de Gex for ever out of the ranks of his +rivals. But I flatter myself that, having snapped my fingers in his +face, the last laugh has been on my side. He has withdrawn discomfited +from the conflict and left me master of the ground. Love conquers all, +even the Arch-Jester. + +There are some who still point to me as one who has deliberately ruined +a brilliant career, who pity me as one who has gone under, who speak +with shrugged shoulders and uplifted eyebrows at my unfortunate marriage +and my obscure and cranky occupation. The world, they say, was at +my feet. So it was. But what the pitying critics lack the grace to +understand is that better than to have it under one's feet is to have +it, or that of it which matters, at one's heart. + +I sit in this tiny hotel by the sea and reflect that it is over three +years since I awoke from death and assumed a new avatar. And since my +marriage, what have been the happenings? + +Dale has just been elected for the Fensham Division of Westmoreland, and +he has already begun the line of sturdy young Kynnersleys, of which I +had eumoirous dreams long ago. Quast and the cats have passed into alien +hands. Anastasius Papadopoulos is dead. He died three months ago of +angina pectoris, and Lola was with him at the end. Eleanor Faversham has +married a Colonial bishop. Campion, too, has married--and married the +last woman in the world to whom one would have thought of mating him--a +frivolous butterfly of a creature who drags him to dinner-parties and +Ascot and suppers at the Savoy, and holds Barbara's Building and all +it connotes in vixenish detestation. He roars out the agony of his +philanthropic spirit to Lola and myself, who administer consolation and +the cold mutton that he loves. The story of his marriage is a little +lunatic drama all to itself and I will tell it some day. But now I +can only rough-sketch the facts. He works when he can at the beloved +creation of his life and fortune; but the brain that would be inadequate +to the self-protecting needs of a ferret controls the action of this +masterful enthusiast, and his one awful despair in life is to touch a +heart that might beat in the bosom of a vicious and calculating haddock. +I only mention this to explain how it has come to pass that Lola and I +are now all-powerful in Barbara's Building. It has become the child of +our adoption and we love it with a deep and almost fanatic affection. +Before Lola my influence and personality fade into nothingness. She is +the power, the terror, the adoration of Lambeth. If she chose she +could control the Parliamentary vote of the borough. Her great, direct, +large-hearted personality carries all before it. And with it there is +something of the uncanny. A feat of hers in the early days is by way of +becoming legendary. + +A woman, on the books of the Building, was about to bring a hopeless +human fragment into a grey world. Lola went to see what aid the Building +could provide. In front of the door lounged the husband, a hulking +porter in a Bermondsey factory. Glowering at his feet lay a vicious +mongrel dog--bull-terrier, Irish-terrier, mastiff--so did Lola with +her trained eye distinguish the strains. When she asked for his wife in +travail the chivalrous gentleman took his pipe from his mouth, spat, and +after the manner of his kind referred to the disfigurement of her face +in terms impossible to transcribe. She paid no attention. + +"I'm coming upstairs to see your wife." + +"If you pass that door, s'welp me Gawd, I'll set the dog on yer." + +She paused. He urged the dog, who bristled and growled and showed his +teeth. Lola picked the animal up, as she would have picked up a sofa +cushion, and threw him across the street. She went to where he had +fallen, ordered him to his feet, and the dog licked her hand. She came +back with a laugh. + +"I'll do the same to you if you don't let me in!" + +She pushed the hulking brute aside. He resisted and laid hands on her. +By some extraordinary tamer's art of which she had in vain tried to +explain to me the secret, and with no apparent effort, she glided away +from him and sent him cowering and subdued some feet beyond the lintel +of the door. The street, which was watching, went into a roar of +laughter and applause. Lola mounted the stairs and attended to the +business in hand. When she came down the man was still standing at the +threshold smoking an obfusticated pipe. He blinked at her as if she had +been a human dynamo. + +"Come round to Barbara's Building at six o'clock and tell me how she +is." + +He came on the stroke of six. + +The fame of Lola spread through the borough, and now she can walk +feared, honoured, unmolested by night or by day through the streets +of horror and crime, which neither I nor any other man--no matter how +courageous--dare enter at certain hours without the magical protection +of a policeman. + +Sunshine has come at last, both into this little backwater of the world +by the sea and into my own life, and it is time I should end this futile +record. + +Yesterday as we lay on the sands, watching the waves idly lap the shore, +Lola brought herself nearer to me with a rhythmic movement as no other +creature form of woman is capable of, and looked into my eyes. And she +whispered something to me which led to an infinite murmuring of foolish +things. I put my arms round her and kissed her on the lips and on her +cheek--whether the beautiful or the maimed I knew not--and she sank into +a long, long silence. At last she said: + +"What are you thinking of?" + +I said, "I'm thinking that not a single human being on the face of the +earth has a sense of humour." + +"What do you mean?" she asked. + +"Simply this," said I, "that what has occurred billions of billions of +millions of times on the earth we are now regarding as the only thing +that ever happened." + +"Well," said Lola, "so it is--for us--the only thing that ever +happened." + +And the astounding woman was right. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Simon the Jester, by William J. 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I pleaded the seriousness of my question. + +"What I want," said I, "is a place compared to which Golgotha, +Aceldama, the Dead Sea, the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and the Bowery +would be leafy bowers of uninterrupted delight." + +"Then Murglebed-on-Sea is what you're looking for," said Renniker. +"Are you going there at once?" + +"At once," said I. + +"It's November," said he, "and a villainous November at that; so +you'll see Murglebed-on-Sea in the fine flower of its desolation." + +I thanked him, went home, and summoned my excellent man Rogers. + +"Rogers," said I, "I am going to the seaside. I heard that Murglebed +is a nice quiet little spot. You will go down and inspect it for me +and bring back a report." + +He went blithe and light-hearted, though he thought me insane; he +returned with the air of a serving-man who, expecting to find a well- +equipped pantry, had wandered into a charnel house. + +"It's an awful place, sir. It's sixteen miles from a railway station. +The shore is a mud flat. There's no hotel, and the inhabitants are +like cannibals." + +"I start for Murglebed-on-Sea to-morrow," said I. + +Rogers started at me. His loose mouth quivered like that of a child +preparing to cry. + +"We can't possibly stay there, sir," he remonstrated. + +"/We/ are not going to try," I retorted. "I'm going by myself." + +His face brightened. Almost cheerfully he assured me that I should +find nothing to eat in Murglebed. + +"You can amuse yourself," said I, "by sending me down a daily hamper +of provisions." + +"There isn't even a church," he continued. + +"Then you can send me down a tin one from Humphreys'. I believe they +can supply one with everything from a tin rabbit-hutch to a town +hall." + +He sighed and departed, and the next day I found myself here, in +Murglebed-on-Sea. + +On a murky, sullen November day Murglebed exhibits unimagined horrors +of scenic depravity. It snarls at you malignantly. It is like a bit of +waste land in Gehenna. There is a lowering, soap-suddy thing a mile +away from the more or less dry land which local ignorance and +superstition call the sea. The interim is mud--oozy, brown, malevolent +mud. Sometimes it seems to heave as if with the myriad bodies of slimy +crawling eels and worms and snakes. A few foul boats lie buried in it. + +Here and there, on land, a surly inhabitant spits into it. If you +address him he snorts at you unintelligibly. If you turn your back to +the sea you are met by a prospect of unimagined despair. There are no +trees. The country is flat and barren. A dismal creek runs miles +inland--an estuary fed by the River Murgle. A few battered cottages, a +general shop, a couple of low public-houses, and three perky red-brick +villas all in a row form the city, or town, or village, or what you +will, of Murglebed-on-Sea. Renniker is a wonderful man. + +I have rented a couple of furnished rooms in one of the villas. It has +a decayed bit of front garden in which a gnarled, stunted stick is +planted, and it is called The Laburnums. My landlord, the owner of the +villas, is a builder. What profits he can get from building in +Murglebed, Heaven alone knows; but, as he mounts a bicycle in the +morning and disappears for the rest of the day, I presume he careers +over the waste, building as he goes. In the evenings he gets drunk at +the Red Cow; so I know little of him, save that he is a red-faced man, +with a Moustache like a tooth-brush and two great hands like hams. + +His wife is taciturn almost to dumbness. She is a thick-set, black- +haired woman, and looks at me disapprovingly out of the corner of her +eye as if I were a blackbeetle which she would like to squash under +foot. She tolerates me, however, on account of the tongues and other +sustenance sent by Rogers from Benoist, of which she consumes +prodigious quantities. She wonders, as far as the power of wonder is +given to her dull brain, what on earth I am doing here. I see her +whispering to her friends as I enter the house, and I know they are +wondering what I am doing here. The whole village regards me as a +humorous zoological freak, and wonders what I am doing here among +normal human beings. + +And what am I doing here--I, Simon de Gex, M.P., the spoilt darling of +fortune, as my opponent in the Labour interest called me during the +last electoral campaign? My disciple and secretary, young Dale +Kynnersley, the only mortal besides Rogers who knows my whereabouts, +trembles for my reason. In the eyes of the excellent Rogers I am horn- +mad. What my constituents would think did they see me taking the muddy +air on a soggy afternoon, I have no conception. Dale keeps them at +bay. He also baffles the curiosity of my sisters, and by his diplomacy +has sent Eleanor Faversham on a huffy trip to Sicily. She cannot +understand why I bury myself in bleak solitude, instead of making +cheerful holiday among the oranges and lemons of the South. + +Eleanor is a girl with a thousand virtues, each of which she expects +to find in counterpart in the man to whom she is affianced. Until a +week or two ago I actually thought myself in love with Eleanor. There +seemed a whimsical attraction in the idea of marrying a girl with a +thousand virtues. Before me lay the pleasant prospect of reducing them +--say, ten at a time--until I reached the limit at which life was +possible, and then one by one until life became entertaining. I +admired her exceedingly--a strapping, healthy English girl who looked +you straight in the eyes and gripped you fearlessly by the hand. + +My friends "lucky-dog'd" me until I began to smirk to myself at my own +good fortune. She visited the constituency and comported herself as if +she had been a Member's wife since infancy, thereby causing my heart +to swell with noble pride. This unparalleled young person compelled me +to take my engagement almost seriously. If I shot forth a jest, it +struck against a virtue and fell blunted to the earth. Indeed, even +now I am sorry I can't marry Eleanor. But marriage is out of the +question. + +I have been told by the highest medical authorities that I may manage +to wander in the flesh about this planet for another six months. After +that I shall have to do what wandering I yearn for through the medium +of my ghost. There is a certain humourousness in the prospect. Save +for an occasional pain somewhere inside me, I am in the most robust +health. + +But this same little pain has been diagnosed by the Faculty as the +symptom of an obscure disease. An operation, they tell me, would kill +me on the spot. What it is called I cannot for the life of me +remember. They gave it a kind of lingering name, which I wrote down on +my shirt-cuff. + +The name or characteristics of the thing, however, do not matter a +fig. I have always hated people who talked about their insides, and I +am not going to talk about mine, even to myself. Clearly, if it is +only going to last me six months, it is not worth talking about. But +the quaint fact of its brief duration is worth the attention of a +contemplative mind. + +It is in order perfectly to focus this attention that I have come to +Murglebed-on-Sea. Here I am alone with the murk and the mud and my own +indrawn breath of life. There are no flowers, blue sky, smiling eyes, +and dainty faces--none of the adventitious distractions of the earth. +There are no Blue-books. Before the Faculty made their jocular +pronouncement I had been filling my head with statistics on pauper +lunacy so as to please my constituency, in which the rate has +increased alarmingly of late years. Perhaps that is why I found myself +their representative in Parliament. I was to father a Bill on the +subject next session. Now the labour will fall on other shoulders. I +interest myself in pauper lunacy no more. A man requires less flippant +occupation for the premature sunset of his days. Well, in Murglebed I +can think, I can weigh the /pros/ and /cons/ of existence with an even +mind, I can accustom myself to the concept of a Great Britain without +Simon de Gex. M.P. + +Of course, when I go I shall "cast one longing, lingering look +behind." I don't particularly want to die. In fact, having otherwise +the prospect of an entertaining life, I regard my impending +dissolution in the light of a grievance. But I am not afraid. I shall +go through the dismal formality with a graceful air and as much of a +smile on my face as the pain in my inside will physically permit. + +My dear but somewhat sober-sided friend Marcus Aurelius says: "Let +death surprise me when it will, and where it will, I may be +/eumoiros/, or a happy man, nevertheless. For he is a happy man who in +his lifetime dealeth unto himself a happy lot and portion. A happy lot +and portion in good inclinations of the soul, good desires, good +actions." + +The word /eumoiros/ according to the above definition, tickles my +fancy. I would give a great deal to be eumoirous. What a thing to say: +"I have achieved eumoiriety,"--namely the quintessence of happy- +fatedness dealt unto oneself by a perfect altruism! + +I don't think that hitherto my soul has been very evilly inclined, my +desires base, or my actions those of a scoundrel. Still, the negatives +do not qualify one for eumoiriety. One wants something positive. I +have an idea, therefore, of actively dealing unto myself a happy lot +or portion according to the Marcian definition during the rest of the +time I am allowed to breathe the upper air. And this will be fairly +easy; for no matter how excellently a man's soul may be inclined to +the performance of a good action, in ninety cases out of a hundred he +is driven away from it by dread of the consequences. Your moral +teachers seldom think of this--that the consequences of a good action +are often more disastrous than those of an evil one. But if a man is +going to die, he can do good with impunity. He can simply wallow in +practical virtue. When the boomerang of his beneficence comes back to +hit him on the head--/he won't be there to feel it/. He can thus hoist +Destiny with its own petard, and, besides, being eumoirous, can spend +a month or two in a peculiarly diverting manner. The more I think of +the idea the more am I in love with it. I am going to have a seraph of +a time. I am going to play the archangel. + +I shall always have pleasant memories of Murglebed. Such an idea could +not have germinated in any other atmosphere. In the scented groves of +sunny lands there would have been sown Seeds of Regret, which would +have blossomed eventually into Flowers of Despair. I should have gone +about the world, a modern Admetus, snivelling at my accursed luck, +without even the chance of persuading a soft-hearted Alcestis to die +for me. I should have been a dismal nuisance to society. + +"Bless you," I cried this afternoon, waving, as I leaned against a +post, my hand to the ambient mud, "Renniker was wrong! You are not a +God-forsaken place. You are impregnated with divine inspiration." + +A muddy man in a blue jersey and filthy beard who occupied the next +post looked at me and spat contemptuously. I laughed. + +"If you were Marcus Aurelius," said I, "I would make a joke--a short +life and an eumoiry one--and he would have looked as pained as you." + +"What?" he bawled. He was to windward of me. + +I knew that if I repeated my observation he would offer to fight me. I +approached him suavely. + +"I was wondering," I said, "as it's impossible to strike a match in +this wind, whether you would let me light my pipe from yours." + +"It's empty," he growled. + +"Take a fill from my pouch," said I. + +The mud-turtle loaded his pipe, handed me my pouch without +acknowledgment, stuck his pipe in his breeches pocket, spat again, +and, deliberately turning his back, on me, lounged off to another post +on a remoter and less lunatic-ridden portion of the shore. Again I +laughed, feeling, as the poet did with the daffodils, that one could +not but be gay in such a jocund company. + +There are no amenities or urbanities of life in Murglebed to choke the +growth of the Idea. This evening it flourishes so exceedingly that I +think it safe to transplant it in the alien soil of Q 3, The Albany, +where the good Rogers must be leading an idle existence peculiarly +deleterious to his morals. + +This gives one furiously to think. One of the responsibilities of +eumoiriety must be the encouragement and development of virtue in my +manservant. + +Also in my young friend and secretary, Dale Kynnersley. He is more to +me than Rogers. I may confess that, so long as Rogers is a sober, +honest, me-fearing valet, in my heart of hearts I don't care a hang +about Rogers's morals. But about those of Dale Kynnersley I do. I care +a great deal for his career and happiness. I have a notion that he is +erring after strange goddesses and neglecting the little girl who is +in love with him. He must be delivered. He must marry Maisie Ellerton, +and the two of them must bring lots of capable, clear-eyed Kynnersleys +into the world. I long to be their ghostly godfather. + +Then there's Eleanor Faversham--but if I begin to draw up a programme +I shall lose that spontaneity of effort which, I take it, is one of +the chief charms of dealing unto oneself a happy lot and portion. No; +my soul abhors tabulation. It would make even six months' life as +jocular as Bradshaw's Railway Guide or the dietary of a prison. I +prefer to look on what is before me as a high adventure, and with that +prospect in view I propose to jot down my experiences from time to +time, so that when I am wandering, a pale shade by Acheron, young Dale +Kynnersley may have not only documentary evidence wherewith to +convince my friends and relations that my latter actions were not +those of a lunatic, but also, at the same time, an up-to-date version +of Jeremy Taylor's edifying though humour-lacking treatise on the act +of dying, which I am sorely tempted to label "The Rule and Example of +Eumoiriety." I shall resist the temptation, however. Dale Kynnersley-- +such is the ignorance of the new generation--would have no sense of +the allusion. He would shake his head and say, "Dotty, poor old chap, +dotty!" I can hear him. And if, in order to prepare him, I gave him a +copy of the "Meditations," he would fling the book across the room and +qualify Marcus Aurelius as a "rotter." + +Dale is a very shrewd fellow, and will make an admirable legislator +when his time comes. Although his highest intellectual recreation is +reiterated attendance at the musical comedy that has caught his fancy +for the moment and his favourite literature the sporting pages of the +daily papers, he has a curious feline pounce on the salient facts of a +political situation, and can thread the mazes of statistics with the +certainty of a Hampton Court guide. His enthusiastic researches (on my +behalf) into pauper lunacy are remarkable in one so young. I foresee +him an invaluable chairman of committee. But he will never become a +statesman. He has too passionate a faith in facts and figures, and has +not cultivated a sense of humour at the expense of the philosophers. +Young men who do not read them lose a great deal of fun. + +Well, to-morrow I leave Murglebed for ever; it has my benison. +Democritus returns to London. + + + +CHAPTER II + +I was at breakfast on the morning after my arrival in London, when +Dale Kynnersley rushed in and seized me violently by the hand. + +"By Jove, here you are at last!" + +I smoothed my crushed fingers. "You have such a vehement manner of +proclaiming the obvious, my dear Dale." + +"Oh, rot!" he said. "Here, Rogers, give me some tea--and I think I'll +have some toast and marmalade." + +"Haven't you breakfasted?" + +A cloud overspread his ingenuous countenance. + +"I came down late, and everything was cold and mother was on edge. The +girls are always doing the wrong things and I never do the right ones +--you know the mater--so I swallowed a tepid kidney and rushed off." + +"Save for her worries over you urchins," said I, "I hope Lady +Kynnersley is well?" + +He filled his mouth with toast and marmalade, and nodded. He is a +good-looking boy, four-and-twenty--idyllic age! He has sleek black +hair brushed back from his forehead over his head, an olive +complexion, and a keen, open, clean-shaven face. He wore a dark-brown +lounge suit and a wine-coloured tie, and looked immaculate. I remember +him as the grubbiest little wretch that ever disgraced Harrow. + +He swallowed his mouthful and drank some tea. + +"Recovered your sanity?" he asked. + +"The dangerous symptoms have passed over," I replied. "I undertake not +to bite." + +He regarded me as though he were not quite certain, and asked in his +pronounless way whether I was glad to be back in London. + +"Yes," said I. "Rogers is the only human creature who can properly wax +the ends of my moustache. It got horribly limp in the air of +Murglebed. That is the one and only disadvantage of the place." + +"Doesn't seem to have done you much good," he remarked, scanning me +critically. "You are as white as you were before you went away. Why +the blazes you didn't go to Madeira, or the South of France, or South +Africa I can't imagine." + +"I don't suppose you can," said I. "Any news?" + +"I should think I have! But first let me go through the appointments." + +He consulted a pocket-book. On December 2nd I was to dine with +Tanners' Company and reply to the toast of "The House of Commons." On +the 4th my constituency claimed me for the opening of a bazaar at +Wymington. A little later I was to speak somewhere in the North of +England at a by-election in support of the party candidate. + +"It will be fought on Tariff Reform, about which I know nothing," I +objected. + +"I know everything," he declared. "I'll see you through. You must buck +up a bit, Simon, and get your name better known about the country. And +this brings me to my news. I was talking to Raggles the other day--he +dropped a hint, and Raggles's hints are jolly well worth while picking +up. Just come to the front and show yourself, and there's a place in +the Ministry." + +"Ministry?" + +"Sanderson's going." + +"Sanderson?" I queried, interested, in spite of myself, at these +puerilities. "What's the matter with him?" + +"Swelled head. There have been awful rows--this is confidential--and +he's got the hump. Thinks he ought to be the Chancellor of the +Exchequer, or at least First Lord, instead of an Under Secretary. So +he's going to chuck it, before he gets the chuck himself--see?" + +"I perceive," said I, "that your conversational English style is +abominable." + +He lit a cigarette and continued, loftily taking no notice of my +rebuke. + +"There's bound to be a vacancy. Why shouldn't you fill it? They seem +to want you. You're miles away over the heads of the average solemn +duffers who get office." + +I bowed acknowledgment of his tribute. + +"Well, you will buck up and try for it, won't you? I'm awfully proud +of you already, but I should go off my head with joy if you were in +the Ministry." + +I met his honest young eyes as well as I could. How was I going to +convey to his candid intelligence the fact of my speedy withdrawal +from political life without shattering his illusions? Besides, his +devotion touched me, and his generous aspirations were so futile. +Office! It was in my grasp. Raggles, with his finger always on the +pulse of the party machine, was the last man in the world to talk +nonsense. I only had to "buck up." Yet by the time Sanderson sends in +his resignation to the King of England, I shall have sent in mine to +the King of Hosts. I moved slightly in my chair, and a twinge of the +little pain inside brought a gasp to my throat. But I felt grateful to +it. It was saving me from an unconscionable deal of worry. Fancy going +to a confounded office every morning like a clerk in the City! I was +happier at peace. I rose and warmed myself by the fire. Dale regarded +me uncomprehendingly. + +"You look as if the prospect bored you to tears. I thought you would +be delighted." + +"/Vanitas vanitatum/," said I. "/Omnia vanitas/." + +"Rot!" said Dale. + +"It's true." + +"I must fetch Eleanor Faversham back from Sicily," said Dale. + +"Don't," said I. + +"Well, I give you up," he declared, pushing his chair from the table +and swinging one leg across the other. I leaned forward and +scrutinised his ankles. + +"What are you looking at?" + +"There must be something radically wrong with you, Dale," I murmured +sympathetically. "It is part of the religion of your generation to +wear socks to match your tie. To-day your tie is wine-coloured and +your socks are green----" + +"Good Lord," he cried, "so they are! I dressed myself anyhow this +morning." + +"What's wrong with you?" + +He threw his cigarette impatiently into the fire. + +"Every infernal thing that can possibly be. Everything's rotten--but +I've not come here to talk about myself." + +"Why not?" + +"It isn't the game. I'm here on your business, which is ever so much +more important than mine. Where are this morning's letters?" + +I pointed to an unopened heap on a writing-table at the end of the +room. He crossed and sat down before them. Presently he turned +sharply. + +"You haven't looked through the envelopes. Here is one from Sicily." + +I took the letter from him, and sighed to myself as I read it. Eleanor +was miserable. The Sicilians were dirty. The Duomo of Palermo did not +come up to her expectations. The Mobray-Robertsons, with whom she +travelled, quarrelled with their food. They had never even heard of +Theocritus. She had a cold in her head, and was utterly at a loss to +explain my attitude. Therefore she was coming back to London. + +I wish I could find her a nice tame husband who had heard of +Theocritus. It would be such a good thing for everybody, husband +included. For, I repeat, Eleanor is a young woman of fine character, +and the man to whom she gives her heart will be a fortunate fellow. + +While I was reading the letter and meditating on it, with my back to +the fire, Dale plunged into the morning's correspondence with an air +of enjoyment. That is the astonishing thing about him. He loves work. +The more I give him to do the better he likes it. His cronies, who in +raiment, manners, and tastes differ from him no more than a row of +pins differs from a stray brother, regard a writing-chair as a +mediaeval instrument of torture, and faint at the sight of ink. They +will put themselves to all kinds of physical and pecuniary +inconvenience in order to avoid regular employment. They are the +tramps of the fashionable world. But in vain do they sing to Dale of +the joys of silk-hatted and patent-leather-booted vagabondage and +deride his habits of industry; Dale turns a deaf ear to them and urges +on his strenuous career. Rogers, coming in to clear away the breakfast +things, was despatched by my young friend to fetch a portfolio from +the hall. It contained, he informed me, the unanswered letters of the +past fortnight with which he had found himself unqualified to deal. He +grasped the whole bundle of correspondence, and invited me to follow +him to the library and start on a solid morning's work. I obeyed +meekly. He sat down at the big table, arranged the pile in front of +him, took a pencil from the tray, and began: + +"This is from Finch, of the /Universal Review/." + +I put my hand on his shoulder. + +"Tell him, my boy, that it's against my custom to breakfast at +afternoon tea, and that I hope his wife is well." + +At his look of bewilderment I broke into a laugh. + +"He wants me to write a dull article for his stupid paper, doesn't +he?" + +"Yes, on Poor Law Administration." + +"I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to do anything these people ask +me. Say 'No, no, no, no,' to everybody." + +"In Heaven's name, Simon," he cried, laying down his pencil, "what has +come over you?" + +"Old age," said I. + +He uttered his usual interjection, and added that I was only thirty- +seven. + +"Age is a relative thing," I remarked. "Babes of five have been known +to die of senile decay, and I have seen irresponsible striplings of +seventy." + +"I really think Eleanor Faversham had better come back from Sicily." + +I tapped the letter still in my hand. "She's coming." + +"I'm jolly glad to hear it. It's all my silly fault that she went +away. I thought she was getting on your nerves. But you want pulling +together. That confounded place you've been to has utterly upset you." + +"On the contrary," said I, "it has steadied and amplified my +conception of sublunary affairs. It has shown me that motley is much +more profitable wear than the edged toga of the senator--" + +"Oh, for God's sake, dry up," cried young England, "and tell me what +answers I'm to give these people!" + +He seemed so earnest about it that I humoured him; and my +correspondents seemed so earnest that I humoured them. But it was a +grim jest. Most of the matters with which I had to deal appeared so +trivial. Only here and there did I find a chance for eumoiriety. The +Wymington Hospital applied for their annual donation. + +"You generally give a tenner," said Dale. + +"This time I'll give them a couple of hundred," said I. + +Dale earmarked the amount wonderingly; but when I ordered him to send +five pounds apiece to the authors of various begging letters he argued +vehemently and quoted the Charity Organisation Society. + +"They're frauds, all of them," he maintained. + +"They're poor necessitous devils, at any rate," said I, "and they want +the money more than I do." + +This was a truth whose significance Dale was far from realising. Of +what value, indeed, is money to me? There is none to whom I can +usefully bequeath my little fortune, my sisters having each married +rich men. I shall not need even Charon's obolus when I am dead, for we +have ceased to believe in him--which is a pity, as the trip across the +Styx must have been picturesque. Why, then, should I not deal myself a +happy lot and portion by squandering my money benevolently during my +lifetime? + +It behooves me, however, to walk warily in this as in other matters, +for if my actions too closely resemble those of a lunatic at large, +trustees may be appointed to administer my affairs, which would +frustrate my plans entirely. + +When my part in the morning's work was over, I informed my secretary +that I would go out and take the air till lunch-time. + +"If you've nothing better to do," said he, "you might run round to +Eccleston Square and see my mother." + +"For any particular reason?" + +"She wants to see you. Home for inebriate parrots or something. Gave +me a message for you this morning." + +"I'll wait," said I, "on Lady Kynnersley with pleasure." + +I went out and walked down the restful covered way of the Albany to +the Piccadilly entrance, and began my taking of the air. It was a soft +November day, full of blue mist, and invested with a dying grace by a +pale sunshine struggling through thin, grey rain-cloud. It was a faded +lady of a day--a lady of waxen cheeks, attired in pearl-grey and old +lace, her dim eyes illumined by a last smile. It gave an air of +unreality to the perspective of tall buildings, and treated with +indulgent irony the passing show of humans--on foot, on omnibuses, in +cabs and motors--turning them into shadow shapes tending no whither. I +laughed to myself. They all fancied themselves so real. They all had +schemes in their heads, as if they were going to live a thousand +years. I walked westwards past the great clubs, moralising as I went, +and feeling the reaction from the excitement of Murglebed-on-Sea. I +looked up at one of my own clubs, a comfortable resting-place, and it +struck me as possessing more attractions than the family vault in +Highgate Cemetery. An acquaintance at the window waved his hand at me. +I thought him a lucky beggar to have that window to stand by when the +street will be flooded with summer sunshine and the trees in the green +Park opposite wave in their verdant bravery. A little further a +radiant being, all chiffons and millinery, on her way to Bond Street +for more millinery and chiffons, smiled at me and put forth a +delicately-gloved hand. + +"Oh, Mr. de Gex, you're the very man I was longing to see!" + +"How simply are some human aspirations satisfied!" said I. + +"Farfax"--that's her husband, Farfax Glenn, a Member on my side of the +House--"Farfax and I are making plans already for the Easter recess. +We are going to motor to Athens, and you must come with us. You can +tell us all about everything as we pass by." + +I looked grave. "Easter is late next year." + +"What does that matter? Say you'll come." + +"Alas! my dear Mrs. Glenn," I said, with a smile, "I have an +engagement at Easter--a very important one." + +"I thought the wedding was not to take place till June." + +"It isn't the wedding," said I. + +"Then break the engagement." + +"It's beyond human power," said I. + +She held up her bracelet, from which dangled some charms. + +"I think you're a ----" And she pointed to a little golden pig. + +"I'm not," I retorted. + +"What are you, then?" + +"I'm a gentleman in a Greek tragedy." + +We laughed and parted, and I went on my way cheered by the encounter. +I had spoken the exact truth, and found amusement in doing so. One has +often extracted humour from the contemplation of the dissolution of +others--that of the giant in "Jack the Giant-killer" for instance, and +the demise of the little boy with the pair of skates in the poem. Why +not extract it from the contemplation of one's own? + +The only disadvantage of my position is that it give me, in spite of +myself, an odd sense of isolation from my kind. They are looking +forward to Easters and Junes and summers, and I am not. I also have a +fatuous feeling of superiority in being in closer touch than they with +eternal verities. I must take care that I do not play too much to the +gallery, that I do not grow too conceited over the singularity of my +situation, and arrive at the mental attitude of the criminal whose +dominant solicitude in connection with his execution was that he +should be hanged in his dress clothes. These reflections brought me to +Eccleston Square. + +Lady Kynnersley is that type of British matron who has children in +fits of absent-mindedness, and to whom their existence is a perpetual +shock. Her main idea in marrying the late Sir Thomas Kynnersley was to +associate herself with his political and philanthropic schemes. She is +the born committee woman, to whom a home represents a place where one +sleeps and eats in order to maintain the strength required for the +performance of committee duties. Her children have always been outside +the sphere of her real interests, but, afflicted, as such women are, +with chronic inflammation of the conscience, she had devoted the most +scrupulous care to their upbringing. She formed herself into a society +for the protection of her own children, and managed them by means of a +committee, which consisted of herself, and of which she was the +honorary secretary. She drew up articles of association and +regulations. If Dale contracted measles, she applied by-law 17. If +Janet slapped Dorothy, by-law 32 was brought into play. When Dale +clamoured for a rocking-horse, she found that the articles of +association did not provide for imaginative equitation. As the +children grew up, the committee had from time to time to revise the +articles and submit them to the general body for approval. There were +many meetings before the new sections relating to a University career +for the boy and the coming out for the girls were satisfactorily +drafted. Once given the effect of law, however, there was no appeal +against these provisions. Both committee and general body were +powerless. Dale certainly owed his methodical habits to his mechanical +training, but whence he derived and how he maintained his exuberance +and spontaneity has often puzzled me. He himself accounts for it on +the score of heredity, in that an ancestress of his married a +highwayman who was hanged at Tyburn under William and Mary. + +In person Lady Kynnersley is lean and blanched and grey-haired. She +wears gold spectacles, which stand out oddly against the thin +whiteness of her face; she is still a handsome, distinguished woman, +who can have, when she chooses, a most gracious manner. As I, +worldling and jester though I am, for some mysterious reason have +found favour in the lady's eyes, she manifests this graciousness +whenever we foregather. Ergo, I like Lady Kynnersley, and would put +myself to much inconvenience in order to do her a service. + +She kept me waiting in the drawing-room but a minute before she made +her appearance, grasped my hand, proclaimed my goodness in responding +so soon to her call, bade me sit down on the sofa by her side, +inquired after my health, and, the gods of politeness being +propitiated, plunged at once into the midst of matters. + +Dale was going downhill headlong to Gadarene catastrophe. He had no +eyes or ears or thoughts for any one in the world but for a certain +Lola Brandt, a brazen creature from a circus, the shape of whose limbs +was the common knowledge of mankind from Dublin to Yokohama, and whose +path by sea and land, from Yokohama to Dublin, was strewn with the +bodies of her victims. With this man-eating tigress, declared Lady +Kynnersley, was Dale infatuated. He scorched himself morning, noon, +and night in her devastating presence. Had cut himself adrift from +home, from society. Had left trailing about on his study table a +jeweller's bill for a diamond bracelet. Was committing follies that +made my brain reel to hear. Had threatened, if worried much longer, to +marry the Scarlet One incontinently. Heaven knew, cried Lady +Kynnersley, how many husbands she had already--scattered along the +track between Dublin and Yokohama. There was no doubt about it. Dale +was hurtling down to everlasting bonfire. She looked to me to hold out +the restraining hand. + +"You have already spoken to Dale on the subject?" I asked, mindful of +the inharmonious socks and tie. + +"I can talk to him of nothing else," said Lady Kynnersley desperately. + +"That's a pity," said I. "You should talk to him of Heaven, or pigs, +or Babylonic cuneiform--anything but Lola Brandt. You ought to go to +work on a different system." + +"But I haven't a system at all," cried the poor lady. "How was I to +foresee that my only son was going to fall in love with a circus +rider? These are contingencies in life for which one, with all the +thought in the world, can make no provision. I had arranged, as you +know, that he should marry Maisie Ellerton, as charming a girl as ever +there was. Isn't she? And an independent fortune besides." + +"A rosebud wrapped in a gold leaf," I murmured. + +"Now he's breaking the child's heart----" + +"There was never any engagement between them, I am sure of that," I +remarked. + +"There wasn't. But I gave her to understand it was a settled affair-- +merely a question of Dale speaking. And, instead of speaking, he will +have nothing to do with her, and spends all his time--and, I suppose, +though I don't like to refer to it, all his money--in the society of +this unmentionable woman." + +"Is she really so--so red as she is painted?" I asked. + +"She isn't painted at all. That's where her artful and deceitful +devilry comes in----" + +"I suppose Dale," said I, "declares her to be an angel of light and +purity?" + +"An angel on horseback! Whoever heard of such a thing?" + +"It's the name of a rather fiery savoury," said I. + +"In a circus!" she continued. + +"Well," said I, "the ring of a circus is not essentially one of the +circles in Dante's Inferno." + +"Of course, my dear Simon," she said, with some impatience, "if you +defend him--" + +I hastened to interrupt her. "I don't. I think he is an egregious +young idiot; but before taking action it's well to get a clear idea of +the facts. By the way, how do you know she's not painted?" + +"I've seen her--seen her with my own eyes in Dale's company--at the +Savoy. He's there supping with her every night. General Lamont told +me. I wouldn't believe it--Dale flaunting about in public with her. +The General offered to take me there after the inaugural meeting of +the International Aid Society at Grosvenor House. I went, and saw them +together. I shall never forget the look in the boy's eyes till my +dying day. She has got him body and soul. One reads of such things in +the poets, one sees it in pictures; but I've never come across it in +real life--never, never. It's dreadful, horrible, revolting. To think +that a son of mine, brought up from babyhood to calculate all his +actions with mathematical precision, should be guilty of this +profligacy! It's driving me mad, Simon; it really is. I don't know +what to do. I've come to the end of my resources. It's your turn now. +The boy worships you." + +A wild appeal burned in her eyes and was refracted oddly through her +near-sighted spectacles. I had never seen her betray emotion before +during all the years of our friendship. The look and the tone of her +voice moved me. I expressed my sympathy and my readiness to do +anything in my power to snatch the infatuated boy from the claw and +fang of the syren and hale him to the forgiving feet of Maisie +Ellerton. Indeed, such a chivalrous adventure had vaguely passed +through my mind during my exalted mood at Murglebed-on-Sea. But then I +knew little beyond the fact that Dale was fluttering round an +undesirable candle. Till now I had no idea of the extent to which his +wings were singed. + +"Hasn't Dale spoken to you about this creature?" his mother asked. + +"Young men of good taste keep these things from their elders, my dear +Lady Kynnersley," said I. + +"But you knew of it?" + +"In a dim sort of way." + +"Oh, Simon--" + +"The baby boys of Dale's set regard taking out the chorus to supper as +a solemn religious rite. They wouldn't think themselves respectable if +they didn't. I've done it myself--in moderation--when I was very +young." + +"Men are mysteries," sighed Lady Kynnersley. + +"Please regard them as such," said I, with a laugh, "and let Dale +alone. Allow him to do whatever irrational thing he likes, save +bringing the lady here to tea. If you try to tear him away from her +he'll only cling to her the closer. If you trumpet abroad her infamy +he'll proclaim her a slandered and martyred saint. Leave him to me for +the present." + +"I'll do so gladly," said Lady Kynnersley, with surprising meekness. +"But you /will/ bring him back, Simon? I've arranged for him to marry +Maisie. I can't have my plans for the future upset." + +By-law 379! Dear, excellent, but wooden-headed woman! + +"I have your promise, haven't I?" she said, her hand in mine. + +"You have," said I nobly. + +But how in the name of Astaroth I'm going to keep it I haven't the +remotest conception. + + + +CHAPTER III + +Some letters in Dale's round handwriting lay on the library table +awaiting my signature. Dale himself had gone. A lady had called for +him, said Rogers, in an electric brougham. As my chambers are on the +second floor and the staircase half-way down the arcade, Rogers's +detailed information surprised me. I asked him how he knew. + +"A chauffeur in livery, sir, came to the door and said that the +brougham was waiting for Mr. Kynnersley." + +"I don't see how the lady came in," I remarked. + +"She didn't, sir. She remained in the brougham," said Rogers. + +So Lola Brandt keeps an electric brougham. + +I lunched at the club, and turned up the article "Lola Brandt" in the +living encyclopaedia--that was my friend Renniker. The wonderful man +gave me her history from the cradle to Cadogan Gardens, where she now +resides. I must say that his details were rather vague. She rode in a +circus or had a talking horse--he was not quite sure; and concerning +her conjugal or extra-conjugal heart affairs he admitted that his +information was either unauthenticated or conjectural. At any rate, +she had not a shred of reputation. And she didn't want it, said +Renniker; it would be as much use to her as a diving suit. + +"She has young Dale Kynnersley in tow," he remarked. + +"So I gather," said I. "And now can you tell me something else? What +is the present state of political parties in Guatemala?" + +I was not in the least interested in Guatemala; but I did not care to +discuss Dale with Renniker. When he had completed his sketch of +affairs in that obscure republic, I thanked him politely and ordered +coffee. + +Feeling in a gregarious, companionable humour--I have had enough +solitude at Murglebed to last me the rest of my short lifetime--I went +later in the afternoon to Sussex Gardens to call on Mrs. Ellerton. It +was her day at home, and the drawing-room was filled with chattering +people. I stayed until most of them were gone, and then Maisie dragged +me to the inner room, where a table was strewn with the wreckage of +tea. + +"I haven't had any," she said, grasping the teapot and pouring a +treacly liquid into a cup. "You must have some more. Do you like it +black, or with milk?" + +She is a dainty slip of a girl, with deep grey eyes and wavy brown +hair and a sea-shell complexion. I absently swallowed the abomination +she handed me, for I was looking at her over the teacup and wondering +how an exquisite-minded gentleman like Dale could forsake her for a +Lola Brandt. It was not as if Maisie were an empty-headed, empty- +natured little girl. She is a young person of sense, education, and +character. She also adores musical comedy and a band at dinner: an +excellent thing in woman--when she is very young. + +"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. + +"Because, my dear Maisie," said I, "you are good to look upon. You are +also dropping a hairpin." + +She hastily secured the dangling thing. "I did my hair anyhow to-day," +she explained. + +Again I thought of Dale's tie and socks. The signs of a lover's +"careless desolation," described by Rosalind so minutely, can still be +detected in modern youth of both sexes. I did not pursue the question, +but alluded to autumn gaieties. She spoke of them without enthusiasm. +Miss Somebody's wedding was very dull, and Mrs. Somebody Else's dance +manned with vile and vacuous dancers. At the Opera the greatest of +German sopranos sang false. All human institutions had taken a crooked +turn, and her cat could not be persuaded to pay the commonest +attention to its kittens. Then she asked me nonchalantly: + +"Have you seen anything of Dale lately?" + +"He was working with me this morning. I've been away, you know." + +"I forgot." + +"When did you last see him?" I asked. + +"Oh, ages ago! He has not been near us for weeks. We used to be such +friends. I don't think it's very polite of him, do you?" + +"I'll order him to call forthwith," said I. + +"Oh, please don't! If he won't come of his own accord--I don't want to +see him particularly." + +She tossed her shapely head and looked at me bravely. + +"You are quite right," said I. "Dale's a selfish, ill-mannered young +cub." + +"He isn't!" she flashed. "How dare you say such things about him!" + +I smiled and took both her hands--one of them held a piece of brown +bread-and-butter. + +"My dear," said I, "model yourself on Little Bo-Peep. I don't know who +gave her the famous bit of advice, but I think it was I myself in a +pastoral incarnation. I had a woolly cloak and a crook, and she was +like a Dresden china figure--the image of you." + +Her eyes swam, but she laughed and said I was good to her. I said: + +"The man who wouldn't be good to you is an unhung villain." + +Then her mother joined us, and our little confidential talk came to an +end. It was enough, however, to convince me that my poor little +Ariadne was shedding many desperate tears in secret over her +desertion. + +On my way home I looked in on my doctor. His name is Hunnington. He +grasped me by the hand and eagerly inquired whether my pain was worse. +I said it was not. He professed delight, but looked disappointed. I +ought to have replied in the affirmative. It is so easy to make others +happy. + +I dined, read a novel, and went to sleep in the cheerful frame of mind +induced by the consciousness of having made some little progress on +the path of eumoiriety. + +The next morning Dale made his customary appearance. He wore a morning +coat, a dark tie, and patent-leather boots. + +"Well," said I, "have you dressed more carefully today?" + +He looked himself anxiously over and inquired whether there was +anything wrong. I assured him of the impeccability of his attire, and +commented on its splendour. + +"Are you going to take Maisie out to lunch?" + +He started and reddened beneath his dark skin. Before he could speak I +laid my hand on his shoulder. + +"I'm an old friend, Dale. You mustn't be angry with me. But don't you +think you're treating Maisie rather badly?" + +"You've no right to say so," he burst out hotly. "No one has the right +to say so. There was never a question of an engagement between Maisie +and myself." + +"Then there ought to have been," I said judicially. "No decent man +plays fast and loose with a girl and throws her over just at the +moment when he ought to be asking her to marry him." + +"I suppose my mother's been at you. That's what she wanted to see you +about yesterday. I wish to God she would mind her own business." + +"And that I would mind mine?" + +Dale did not reply. For some odd reason he is devotedly attached to +me, and respects my opinion on worldly matters. He walked to the +window and looked out. Presently, without turning round, he said: + +"I suppose she has been rubbing it in about Lola Brandt?" + +"She did mention the lady's name," said I. "So did Renniker at the +club. I suppose every one you know and many you don't are mentioning +it." + +"Well, what if they are?" + +"They're creating an atmosphere about your name which is scarcely that +in which to make an entrance into public life." + +Still with his back turned, he morosely informed me in his vernacular +that he contemplated public life with feelings of indifference, and +was perfectly prepared to abandon his ambitions. I took up my parable, +the same old parable that wise seniors have preached to the deluded +young from time immemorial. I have seldom held forth so +platitudinously even in the House of Commons. I spoke as impressively +as a bishop. In the midst of my harangue he came and sat by the +library table and rested his chin on his palm, looking at me quietly +out of his dark eyes. His mildness encouraged me to further efforts. I +instanced cases of other young men of the world who had gone the way +of the flesh and had ended at the devil. + +There was Paget, of the Guards, eaten to the bone by the Syren--not +even the gold lace on his uniform left. There was Merridew, once the +hope of the party, now living in ignoble obscurity with an old and +painted mistress, whom he detested, but to whom habit and sapped will- +power kept him in thrall. There was Bullen, who blew his brains out. +In a generous glow I waxed prophetic and drew a vivid picture of +Dale's moral, mental, physical, financial, and social ruin, and +finished up in a masterly peroration. + +Then, without moving, he calmly said: + +"My dear Simon, you are talking through your hat!" + +He had allowed me to walk backwards and forwards on the hearthrug +before a blazing fire, pouring out the wealth of my wisdom, +experience, and rhetoric for ten minutes by the clock, and then coolly +informed me that I was talking through my hat. + +I wiped my forehead, sat down, and looked at him across the table in +surprise and indignation. + +"If you can point out one irrelevant or absurd remark in my homily, +I'll eat the hat through which you say I'm talking." + +"The whole thing is rot from beginning to end!" said he. "None of you +good people know anything at all about Lola Brandt. She's not the sort +of woman you think. She's quite different. You can't judge her by +ordinary standards. There's not a woman like her in the wide world!" + +I made a gesture of discouragement. The same old parable of the wise +had evoked the same old retort from the deluded young. She was quite +different from other women. She was misunderstood by the cynical and +gross-minded world. A heart of virgin purity beat beneath her +mercenary bosom. Her lurid past had been the reiterated martyrdom of a +noble nature. O Golden Age! O unutterable silliness of Boyhood! + +"For Heaven's sake, don't talk in that way!" he cried (I had been +talking in that way), and he rose and walked like a young tiger about +the room. "I can't stand it. I've gone mad about her. She has got into +my blood somehow. I think about her all day long, and I can't sleep at +night. I would give up any mortal thing on earth for her. She is the +one woman in the world for me! She's the dearest, sweetest, tenderest, +most beautiful creature God ever made!" + +"And you honour and respect her--just as you would honour and respect +Maisie?" I asked quietly. + +"Of course I do!" he flashed. "Don't I tell you that you know nothing +whatever about her? She is the dearest, sweetest----" etc., etc. And +he continued to trumpet forth the Olympian qualities of the Syren and +his own fervent adoration. I was the only being to whom he had opened +his heart, and, the floodgates being set free, the torrent burst forth +in this tempestuous and incoherent manner. I let him go on, for I +thought it did him good; but his rhapsody added very little to my +information. + +The lady who had "houp-la'd" her way from Dublin to Yokohama was the +spotless queen of beauty, and Dale was frenziedly, idiotically in love +with her. That was all I could gather. When he had finished, which he +did somewhat abruptly, he threw himself into a chair and took out his +cigarette-case with shaky fingers. + +"There. I suppose I've made a damn-fool exhibition of myself," he +said, defiantly. "What have you got to say about it?" + +"Precisely," I replied, "what I said before. I'll repeat it, if you +like." + +Indeed, what more was there to say for the present about the lunatic +business? I had come to the end of my arguments. + +He reflected for a moment, then rose and came over to the fireplace. + +"Look here, Simon, you must let me go my own way in this. In matters +of politics and worldly wisdom and social affairs and honourable +dealing and all that sort of thing I would follow you blindly. You're +my chief, and a kind of elder brother as well. I would do any mortal +thing for you. You know that. But you've no right to try to guide me +in this matter. You know no more about it than my mother. You've had +no experience. You've never let yourself go about a woman in your +life. Lord of Heaven, man, you have never begun to know what it +means!" + +Oh, dear me! Here was the situation as old as the return of the +Prodigal or the desertion of the trusting village maiden, or any other +cliche in the melodrama of real life. "You are making a fool of +yourself," says Mentor. "Ah," shrieks Telemachus, "but you never +loved! You don't know what love is." + +I looked at him whimsically. + +"Don't I?" + +My thoughts sped back down the years to a garden in France. Her name +was Clothilde. We met in a manner outrageous to Gallic propriety, as I +used to climb over the garden wall to the peril of my epidermis. We +loved. We were parted by stern parents--not mine--and Clothilde was +packed off to the good Sisters who had previously had care of her +education. Now she is fat and happy, and the wife of a banker and the +mother of children. + +But the romance was sad and bad and mad enough while it lasted; and +when Clothilde was (figuratively) dragged from my arms I cursed and +swore and out-Heroded Herod, played Termagant, and summoned the +heavens to fall down and crush me miserable beneath their weight. And +then her brother challenged me to fight a duel, whereupon, as the most +worshipped of all She's had not received a ha'porth of harm at my +hands, I called him a silly ass and threatened to break his head if he +interfered any more in my legitimate despair. I smile at it now; but +it was real at two-and-twenty--as real, I take it, as Dale's consuming +passion for the lady of the circus. + +There was also, I remembered, a certain ---- But this had nothing to +do with Dale. Neither had the tragedy of my lost Clothilde. The +memories, however, brought a wistful touch of sympathy into my voice. + +"You soberly think, my dear old Dale," said I, "that I know nothing of +love and passion and the rest of the divine madness?" + +"I'm sure you don't," he cried, with an impatient gesture. "If you +did, you wouldn't--" + +He came to an abrupt and confused halt. + +"I wouldn't--what?" + +"Nothing. I forgot what I was going to say. Let us talk of something +else." + +"It was on the tip of your impulsive tongue," said I cheerfully, "to +refer to my attitude towards Miss Faversham." + +"I'm desperately sorry," said he, reddening. "It was unpardonable. But +how did you guess?" + +I laughed and quoted the Latin tag about the ingenuous boy of the +ingenuous visage and ingenuous modesty. + +"Because I don't feverishly search the postbag for a letter from Miss +Faversham you conclude I'm a bloodless automaton?" + +"Please don't say any more about it, Simon," he pleaded in deep +distress. + +A sudden idea struck me. I reflected, walked to the window, and, +having made up my mind, sat down again. I had a weapon to hand which I +had overlooked, and with the discovery came a weak craving for the +boy's sympathy. I believe I care more for him than for any living +creature. I decided to give him some notion of my position. + +Sooner or later he would have to learn it. + +"I would rather like to tell you something," said I, "about my +engagement--in confidence, of course. When Eleanor Faversham comes +back I propose to ask her to release me from it." + +He drew a long breath. "I'm glad. She's an awfully nice girl, but +she's no more in love with you than my mother is. But it'll be rather +difficult, won't it?" + +"I don't think so," I replied, shaking my head. "It's a question of +health. My doctors absolutely forbid it." + +A look of affectionate alarm sprang into his eyes. He broke into +sympathy. My health? Why had I not told him before? In Heaven's name, +what was the matter with me? + +"Something silly," said I. "Nothing you need worry about on my +account. Only I must go /piano/ for the rest of my days. Marriage +isn't to be thought of. There is something else I must tell you. I +must resign my seat." + +"Resign your seat? Give up Parliament? When?" + +"As soon as possible." + +He looked at me aghast, as if the world were coming to an end. + +"We had better concoct an epistle to Raggles this morning." + +"But you can't be serious?" + +"I can sometimes, my dear Dale. This is one of the afflicting +occasions." + +"You out of Parliament? You out of public life? It's inconceivable. +It's damnable. But you're just coming into your own--what Raggles +said, what I told you yesterday. But it can't be. You can hold on. +I'll do all the drudgery for you. I'll work night and day." + +And he tramped up and down the room, uttering the disconnected phrases +which an honest young soul unaccustomed to express itself emotionally +blurts out in moments of deep feeling. + +"It's no use, Dale," said I, "I've got my marching orders." + +"But why should they come just now?" + +"When the sweets of office are dangling at my lips? It's pretty +simple." I laughed. "It's one of the little ironies that please the +high gods so immensely. They have an elementary sense of humour--like +that of the funny fellow who pulls your chair from under you and +shrieks with laughter when you go wallop on to the floor. Well, I +don't grudge them their amusement. They must have a dull time settling +mundane affairs, and a little joke goes a long way with them, as it +does in the House of Commons. Fancy sitting on those green benches +legislating for all eternity, with never a recess and never even a +dinner hour! Poor high gods! Let us pity them." + +I looked at him and smiled, perhaps a little wearily. One can always +command one's eyes, but one's lips sometimes get out of control. He +could not have noticed my lips, however, for he cried: + +"By George, you're splendid! I wish I could take a knock-out blow like +that!" + +"You'll have to one of these days. It's the only way of taking it. And +now," said I, in a businesslike tone, "I've told you all this with a +purpose. At Wymington it will be a case of 'Le Roi est mort. Vive le +Roi!' The vacancy will have to be filled up at once. We'll have to +find a suitable candidate. Have you one in your mind?" + +"Not a soul." + +"I have." + +"Who?" + +"You." + +"Me?" He nearly sprang into the air with astonishment. + +"Why not?" + +"They'd never adopt me." + +"I think they would," I said. "There are men in the House as young as +you. You're well known at Wymington and at headquarters as my right- +hand man. You've done some speaking--you do it rather well; it's only +your private conversational style that's atrocious. You've got a name +familiar in public life up and down the country, thanks to your father +and mother. It's a fairly safe seat. I see no reason why they +shouldn't adopt you. Would you like it?" + +"Like it?" he cried. "Why I'd give my ears for it." + +"Then," said I, playing my winning card, "let us hear no more about +Lola Brandt." + +He gave me a swift glance, and walked up and down the room for a while +in silence. Presently he halted in front of me. + +"Look here, Simon, you're a beast, but"--he smiled frankly at the +quotation--"you're a just beast. You oughtn't to rub it in like that +about Lola until you have seen her yourself. It isn't fair." + +"You speak now in language distinctly approaching that of reason," I +remarked. "What do you want me to do?" + +"Come with me this afternoon and see her." + +My young friend had me nicely in the trap. I could not refuse. + +"Very well," said I. "But on the distinct understanding--" + +"Oh, on any old understanding you like!" he cried, and darted to the +door. + +"Where are you going?" + +"To ring her up on the telephone and tell her you're coming." + +That's the worst of the young. They have such a disconcerting manner +of clinching one's undertakings. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +My first impression of Lola Brandt in the dimness of the room was that +of a lithe panther in petticoats rising lazily from the depths of an +easy chair. A sinuous action of the arm, as she extended her hand to +welcome me, was accompanied by a curiously flexible turn of the body. +Her hand as it enveloped, rather than grasped, mine seemed boneless +but exceedingly powerful. An indoor dress of brown and gold striped +Indian silk clung to her figure, which, largely built, had an +appearance of great strength. Dark bronze hair and dark eyes, that in +the soft light of the room glowed with deep gold reflections, +completed the pantherine suggestion. She seemed to be on the verge of +thirty. A most dangerous woman, I decided--one to be shut up in a cage +with thick iron bars. + +"It's charming of you to come. I've heard so much of you from Mr. +Kynnersley. Do sit down." + +Her voice was lazy and languorous and caressing like the purr of a +great cat; and there was something exotic in her accent, something +seductive, something that ought to be prohibited by the police. She +sank into her low chair by the fire, indicating one for me square with +the hearthrug. Dale, so as to leave me a fair conversational field +with the lady, established himself on the sofa some distance off, and +began to talk with a Chow dog, with whom he was obviously on terms of +familiarity. Madame Brandt make a remark about the Chow dog's virtues, +to which I politely replied. She put him through several tricks. I +admired his talent. She declared her affections to be divided between +Adolphus (that was the Chow dog's name) and an ouistiti, who was +confined to bed for the present owing to the evil qualities of the +November air. For the first time I blessed the English climate. I hate +little monkeys. I also felt a queer disappointment. A woman like that +ought to have caught an ourang-outang. + +She guessed my thought in an uncanny manner, and smiled, showing +strong, white, even teeth--the most marvellous teeth I have ever +beheld--so even as to constitute almost a deformity. + +"I'm fonder of bigger animals," she said. "I was born among them. My +father was a lion tamer, so I know all the ways of beasts. I love +bears--I once trained one to drive a cart--but"--with a sigh--"you +can't keep bears in Cadogan Gardens." + +"You may get hold of a human one now and then," said Dale. + +"I've no doubt Madame Brandt could train him to dance to whatever tune +she played," said I. + +She turned her dark golden eyes lazily, slumberously on me. + +"Why do you say that, Mr. de Gex?" + +This was disconcerting. Why had I said it? For no particular reason, +save to keep up a commonplace conversation in which I took no +absorbing interest. It was a direct challenge. Young Dale stopped +playing with the Chow dog and grinned. It behooved me to say +something. I said it with a bow and a wave of my hand: + +"Because, though your father was a lion-tamer, your mother was a +woman." + +She appeared to reflect for a moment; then addressing Dale: + +"The answer doesn't amount to a ha'porth of cats'-meat, but you +couldn't have got out of it like that." + +I was again disconcerted, but I remarked that he would learn in time +when my mentorship was over and I handed him, a finished product, to +society. + +"How long will that be?" she asked. + +"I don't know. Are you anxious for his immediate perfecting?" + +Her shoulders gave what in ordinary women would have been a shrug: +with her it was a slow ripple. I vow if her neck had been bare one +could have seen it undulate beneath the skin. + +"What is perfection?" + +"Can you ask?" laughed Dale. "Behold!" And he pointed to me. + +"That's cheap," said the lady. "I've heard Auguste say cleverer +things." + +"Who's Auguste?" asked Dale. + +"Auguste," said I, "is the generic name of the clown in the French +Hippodrome." + +"Oh, the Circus!" cried Dale. + +"I'll be glad if you'll teach him to call it the Hippodrome, Mr. de +Gex," she remarked, with another of her slumberous glances. + +"That will be one step nearer perfection," said I. + +The short November twilight had deepened into darkness; the fire, +which was blazing when we entered, had settled into a glow, and the +room was lit by one shaded lamp. To me the dimness was restful, but +Dale, who, with the crude instincts of youth, loves glare, began to +fidget, and presently asked whether he might turn on the electric +light. Permission was given. My hostess invited me to smoke and, to +hand her a box of cigarettes which lay on the mantelpiece, I rose, +bent over her while she lit her cigarette from my match, and resuming +an upright position, became rooted to the hearthrug. + +With the flood of illumination, disclosing everything that hitherto +had been wrapped in shadow and mystery, came a shock. + +It was a most extraordinary, perplexing room. The cheap and the +costly, the rare and the common, the exquisite and the tawdry jostled +one another on walls and floor. At one end of the Louis XVI sofa on +which Dale had been sitting lay a boating cushion covered with a Union +Jack, at the other a cushion covered with old Moorish embroidery. The +chair I had vacated I discovered to be of old Spanish oak and stamped +Cordova leather bearing traces of a coat-of-arms in gold. My hostess +lounged in a low characterless seat amid a mass of heterogeneous +cushions. There were many flowers in the room--some in Cloisonne +vases, others in gimcrack vessels such as are bought at country fairs. +On the mantelpiece and on tables were mingled precious ivories from +Japan, trumpery chalets from the Tyrol, choice bits of Sevres and +Venetian glass, bottles with ladders and little men inside them, +vulgar china fowls sitting on eggs, and a thousand restless little +objects screeching in dumb agony at one another. + +The more one looked the more confounded became confusion. Lengths of +beautifully embroidered Chinese silk formed curtains for the doors and +windows; but they were tied back with cords ending in horrible little +plush monkeys in lieu of tassels. A Second Empire gilt mirror hung +over the Louis XVI sofa, and was flanked on the one side by a +villainous German print of "The Huntsman's Return" and on the other by +a dainty water-colour. Myriads of photographs, some in frames, met the +eye everywhere--on the grand piano, on the occasional tables, on the +mantelpiece, stuck obliquely all round the Queen Anne mirror above it, +on the walls. Many of them represented animals--bears and lions and +pawing horses. Dale's photograph I noticed in a silver frame on the +piano. There was not a book in the place. But in the corner of the +room by a further window gleamed a large marble Venus of Milo, +charmingly executed, who stood regarding the welter with eyes calm and +unconcerned. + +I was aroused from the momentary shock caused by the revelation of +this eccentric apartment by an unknown nauseous flavour in my mouth. I +realised it was the cigarette to which I had helped myself from the +beautifully chased silver casket I had taken from the mantelpiece. I +eyed the thing and concluded it was made of the very cheapest tobacco, +and was what the street urchin calls a "fag." I learned afterwards +that I was right. She purchased them at the rate of six for a penny, +and smoked them in enormous quantities. For politeness' sake I +continued to puff at the unclean thing until I nearly made myself +sick. Then, simulating absentmindedness, I threw it into the fire. + +Why, in the sacred name of Nicotine, does a luxurious lady like Lola +Brandt smoke such unutterable garbage? + +On the other hand, the tea which she offered us a few minutes later, +and begged us to drink without milk, was the most exquisite I have +tasted outside Russia. She informed us that she got it direct from +Moscow. + +"I can't stand your black Ceylon tea," she remarked, with a grimace. + +And yet she could smoke "fags." I wondered what other contradictious +tastes she possessed. No doubt she could eat blood puddings with +relish and had a discriminating palate for claret. Truly, a perplexing +lady. + +"You must find leisure in London a great change after your adventurous +career," said I, by way of polite conversation. + +"I just love it. I'm as lazy as a cat," she said, settling with her +pantherine grace among the cushions. "Do you know what has been my +ambition ever since I was a kid?" + +"Whatever of woman's ambitions you had you must have attained," said +I, with a bow. + +"Pooh!" she said. "You mean that I can have crowds of men falling in +love with me. That's rubbish." She was certainly frank. "I meant +something quite different. I wonder whether you can understand. The +world used to seem to me divided into two classes that never met--we +performing people and the public, the thousand white faces that looked +at us and went away and talked to other white faces and forgot all +about performing animals till they came next time. Now I've got what I +wanted. See? I'm one of the public." + +"And you love Philistia better than Bohemia?" I asked. + +She knitted her brows and looked at me puzzled. + +"If you want to talk to me," she said, "you must talk straight. I've +had no more education than a tinker's dog." + +She made this peculiar announcement, not defiantly, not rudely, but +appealingly, graciously. It was not a rebuke for priggishness; it was +the unresentable statement of a fact. I apologized for a lunatic habit +of speech and paraphrased my question. + +"In a word," cried Dale, coming in on my heels with an elucidation of +my periphrasis, "what de Gex is driving at is--Do you prefer +respectability to ramping round?" + +She turned slowly to him. "My dear boy, when do you think I was not +respectable?" + +He jumped from the sofa as if the Chow dog had bitten him. + +"Good Heavens, I never meant you to take it that way!" + +She laughed, stretched up a lazy arm to him, and looked at him +somewhat quizzically in the face as he kissed her finger-tips. +Although I could have boxed the silly fellow's ears, I vow he did it +in a very pretty fashion. The young man of the day, as a general rule, +has no more notion how to kiss a woman's hand than how to take snuff +or dance a pavane. Indeed, lots of them don't know how to kiss a girl +at all. + +"My dear," she said. "I was much more respectable sitting on the stage +at tea with my horse, Sultan, than supping with you at the Savoy. You +don't know the deadly respectability of most people in the profession, +and the worst of it is that while we're being utterly dull and dowdy, +the public think we're having a devil of a time. So we don't even get +the credit of our virtues. I prefer the Savoy--and this." She turned +to me. "It is nice having decent people to tea. Do you know what I +should love? I should love to have an At Home day--and receive ladies, +real ladies. And I have such a sweet place, haven't I?" + +"You have many beautiful things around you," said I truthfully. + +She sighed. "I should like more people to see them." + +"In fact," said I, "you have social ambitions, Madame Brandt?" + +She looked at me for a moment out of the corner of her eye. + +"Are you skinning me?" she asked. + +Where she had picked up this eccentric metaphor I know not. She had +many odd turns of language as yet not current among the fashionable +classes. I gravely assured her that I was not sarcastic. I commended +her praiseworthy aspirations. + +"But," said I innocently, "don't you miss the hard training, the +physical exercise, the delight of motion, the excitement, the----?"-- +my vocabulary failing me, I sketched with a gesture the equestrienne's +classical encouragement to her steed. + +She looked at me uncomprehendingly. + +"The what?" she asked. + +"What are you playing at?" inquired Dale. + +"I was referring to the ring," said I. + +They both burst out laughing, to my discomfiture. + +"What do you take me for? A circus rider? Performing in a tent and +living in a caravan? You think I jump through a hoop in tights?" + +"All I can say," I murmured, by way of apology, "is that it's a +mendacious world. I'm deeply sorry." + +Why had I been misled in this shameful manner? + +Madame Brandt with lazy good nature accepted my excuses. + +"I'm what is professionally known as a /dompteuse/," she explained. +"Of course, when I was a kid I was trained as an acrobat, for my +father was poor; but when he grew rich and the owner of animals, which +he did when I was fourteen, I joined him and worked with him all over +the world until I went on my own. Do you mean to say you never heard +of me?" + +"Madame Brandt," said I, "the last thing to be astonished at is human +ignorance. Do you know that 30 per cent of the French army at the +present day have never heard of the Franco-Prussian War?" + +"My dear Simon," cried Dale, "the two things don't hang together. The +Franco-Prussian War is not advertised all over France like Beecham's +Pills, whereas six years ago you couldn't move two steps in London +without seeing posters of Lola Brandt and her horse Sultan." + +"Ah, the horse!" said I. "That's how the wicked circus story got +about." + +"It was the last act I ever did," said Madame Brandt. "I taught Sultan +--oh, he was a dear, beautiful thing--to count and add up and guess +articles taken from the audience. I was at the Hippodrome. Then at the +Nouveau Cirque at Paris; I was at St. Petersburg, Vienna, Berlin--all +over Europe with Sultan." + +"And where is Sultan now?" I asked. + +"He is dead. Somebody poisoned him," she replied, looking into the +fire. After a pause she continued in a low voice, singularly like the +growl of a wrathful animal, "If ever I meet that man alive it will go +hard with him." + +At that moment the door opened and the servant announced: + +"Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos!" + +Whereupon the shortest creature that ever bore so lengthy a name, a +dwarf not more than four feet high, wearing a frock coat and bright +yellow gloves, entered the room, and crossing it at a sort of trot +fell on his knees by the side of Madame Brandt's chair. + +/"Ah! Carissima, je vous vois enfin, Ach liebes Herz! Que j'ai envie +de pleurer!"/ + +Madame Brandt smiled, took the creature's head between her hands and +kissed his forehead. She also caressed his shoulders. + +"My dear Anastasius, how good it is to see you. Where have you been +this long time? Why didn't you write and let me know you were in +England? But, see, Anastasius, I have visitors. Let me introduce you." + +She spoke in French fluently, but with a frank British accent, which +grated on a fastidious ear. The dwarf rose, made two solemn bows, and +declared himself enchanted. Although his head was too large for his +body, he was neither ill-made nor repulsive. He looked about thirty- +five. A high forehead, dark, mournful eyes, and a black moustache and +imperial gave him an odd resemblance to Napoleon the Third. + +"I arrived from New York this morning, with my cats. Oh, a mad +success. I have one called Phoebus, because he drives a chariot drawn +by six rats. Phoebus Apollo was the god of the sun. I must show him to +you, Madonna. You would love him as I love you. And I also have an +angora, my beautiful Santa Bianca. And you, gentlemen"--he turned to +Dale and myself and addressed us in his peculiar jargon of French, +German, and Italian--"you must come and see my cats if I can get a +London engagement. At present I must rest. The artist needs repose +sometimes. I will sun myself in the smiles of our dear lady here, and +my pupil and assistant, Quast, can look after my cats. Meanwhile the +brain of the artist," he tapped his brow, "needs to lie fallow so that +he can invent fresh and daring combinations. Do such things interest +you, messieurs?" + +"Vastly," said I. + +He pulled out of his breast pocket an enormous gilt-bound pocket-book, +bearing a gilt monogram of such size that it looked like a cartouche +on an architectural panel, and selected therefrom three cards which he +gravely distributed among us. They bore the legend: + + + PROFESSOR ANASTASIUS PAPADOPOULOS + + GOLD AND SILVER MEDALLIST + + THE CAT KING + + LE ROI DES CHATS + + DER KATZEN KONIG + + London Agents: MESSRS. CONTO & BLAG, + + 172 Maiden Lane, W.C. + + +"There," said he, "I am always to be found, should you ever require my +services. I have a masterpiece in my head. I come on to the scene like +Bacchus drawn by my two cats. How are the cats to draw my heavy +weight? I'll have a noiseless clockwork arrangement that will really +propel the car. You must come and see it." + +"Delighted, I'm sure," said Dale, who stood looking down on the +Liliputian egotist with polite wonder. Lola Brandt glanced at him +apologetically. + +"You mustn't mind him, Dale. He has only two ideas in his head, his +cats and myself. He's devoted to me." + +"I don't think I shall be jealous," said Dale in a low voice. + +"Foolish boy!" she whispered. + +During the love scene, which was conducted in English, a language +which Mr. Papadopoulos evidently did not understand, the dwarf scowled +at Dale and twirled his moustache fiercely. In order to attract Madame +Brandt's attention he fetched a packet of papers from his pocket and +laid them with a flourish on the tea-table. + +"Here are the documents," said he. + +"What documents?" + +"A full inquiry into the circumstances attending the death of Madame +Brandt's horse Sultan." + +"Have you found out anything, Anastasius?" she asked, in the indulgent +tone in which one addresses an eager child. + +"Not exactly," said he. "But I have a conviction that by this means +the murderer will be brought to justice. To this I have devoted my +life--in your service." + +He put his hand on the spot of his tightly buttoned frock-coat that +covered his heart, and bowed profoundly. It was obvious that he +resented our presence and desired to wipe us out of our hostess's +consideration. I glanced ironically at Dale's disgusted face, and +smiled at the imperfect development of his sense of humour. Indeed, to +the young, humour is only a weapon of offence. It takes a philosopher +to use it as defensive armour. Dale burned to outdo Mr. Papadopoulos. +I, having no such ambition, laid my hand on his arm and went forward +to take my leave. + +"Madame Brandt," said I, "old friends have doubtless much to talk +over. I thank you for the privilege you have afforded me of making +your acquaintance." + +She rose and accompanied us to the landing outside the flat door. +After saying good-bye to Dale, who went down with his boyish tread, +she detained me for a second or two, holding my hand, and again her +clasp enveloped it like some clinging sea-plant. She looked at me very +wistfully. + +"The next time you come, Mr. de Gex, do come as a friend and not as an +enemy." + +I was startled. I thought I had conducted the interview with peculiar +suavity. + +"An enemy, dear lady?" + +"Yes. Can't I see it?" she said in her languorous, caressing voice. +"And I should love to have you for a friend. You could be such a good +one. I have so few." + +"I must argue this out with you another time," said I diplomatically. + +"That's a promise," said Lola Brandt. + +"What's a promise?" asked Dale, when I joined him in the hall. + +"That I will do myself the pleasure of calling on Madame again." + +The porter whistled for a cab. A hansom drove up. As my destination +was the Albany, and as I knew Dale was going home to Eccleston Square, +I held out my hand. + +"Good-bye, Dale. I'll see you to-morrow." + +"But aren't you going to tell me what you think of her?" he cried in +great dismay. + +The pavement was muddy, the evening dark, and a gusty wind blew the +drizzle into our faces. It is only the preposterously young who expect +a man to rhapsodise over somebody else's inamorata at such a moment. I +turned up the fur collar of my coat. + +"She is good-looking," said I. + +"Any idiot can see that!" he burst out impatiently. "I want to know +what opinion you formed of her." + +I reflected. If I could have labelled her as the Scarlet Woman, the +Martyred Saint, the Jolly Bohemian, or the Bold Adventuress, my task +would have been easy. But I had an uncomfortable feeling that Lola +Brandt was not to be classified in so simple a fashion. I took refuge +in a negative. + +"She would hardly be a success," said I, "in serious political +circles." + +With that I made my escape. + + + +CHAPTER V + +I wish I had not called on Lola Brandt. She disturbs me to the point +of nightmare. In a fit of dream paralysis last night I fancied myself +stalked by a panther, which in the act of springing turned into Lola +Brandt. What she would have done I know not, for I awoke; but I have a +haunting sensation that she was about to devour me. Now, a woman who +would devour a sleeping Member of Parliament is not a fit consort for +a youth about to enter on a political career. + +The woman worries me. I find myself speculating on her character while +I ought to be minding my affairs; and this I do on her own account, +without any reference to my undertaking to rescue Dale from her +clutches. Her obvious attributes are lazy good nature and swift +intuition, which are as contrary as her tastes in tobacco and tea; but +beyond the obvious lurks a mysterious animal power which repels and +attracts. Were not her expressions rather melancholy than sensuous, +rather benevolent than cruel, one might take her as a model for Queen +Berenice or the estimable lady monarchs who yielded themselves +adorably to a gentleman's kisses in the evening and saw to it that his +head was nicely chopped off in the morning. I can quite understand +Dale's infatuation. She may be as worthless as you please, but she is +by no means the vulgar syren I was led to expect. I wish she were. My +task would be easier. Why hasn't he fallen in love with one of the +chorus whom his congeners take out to supper? He is an aggravating +fellow. + +I have declined to discuss her merits or demerits with him. I could +scarcely do that with dignity, said I; a remark which seemed to +impress him with a sense of my honesty. I asked what were his +intentions regarding her. I discovered that they were still +indefinite. In his exalted moments he talked of marriage. + +"But what has become of her husband?" I inquired, drawing a bow at a +venture. + +"I suppose he's dead," said Dale. + +"But suppose he isn't?" + +He informed me in his young magnificence that Lola and himself would +be above foolish moral conventions. + +"Indeed?" said I. + +"Don't pretend to be a Puritan," said he. + +"I don't pretend to like the idea, anyhow," I remarked. + +He shrugged his shoulders. It was not the time for a lecture on +morality. + +"How do you know that the lady returns your passion?" I asked, +watching him narrowly. + +He grew red. "Is that a fair question?" + +"Yes," said I. "You invited me to call on her and judge the affair for +myself. I'm doing it. How far have things gone up to now?" + +He flashed round on me. Did I mean to insinuate that there was +anything wrong? There wasn't. How could I dream of such a thing? He +was vastly indignant. + +"Well, my dear boy," said I, "you've just this minute been scoffing at +foolish moral conventions. If you want to know my opinion," I +continued, after a pause, "it is this--she doesn't care a scrap for +you." + +Of course I was talking nonsense. + +I did not condescend to argue. Neither did I dwell upon the fact that +her affection had not reached the point of informing him whether she +had a husband, and if so, whether he was alive or dead. This gives me +an idea. Suppose I can prove to him beyond a shadow of doubt that the +lady, although flattered by the devotion of a handsome young fellow of +birth and breeding, does not, as I remarked, care a scrap for him. +Suppose I exhibit her to him in the arms, figuratively speaking, of +her husband (providing one is lurking in some back-alley of the +world), Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos, a curate, or a champion wrestler. +He would do desperate things for a month or two; but then he would +wake up sane one fine morning and seek out Maisie Ellerton in a +salutary state of penitence. I wish I knew a curate who combined a +passion for bears and a yearning for ladylike tea-parties. I would +take him forthwith to Cadogan Gardens. Lola Brandt and himself would +have tastes in common and would fall in love with each other on the +spot. + +Of course there is the other time-honoured plan which I have not yet +tried--to arm myself with diplomacy, call on Madame Brandt, and, +working on her feelings, persuade her in the name of the boy's mother +and sweetheart to make a noble sacrifice in the good, old-fashioned +way. But this seems such an unhumourous proceeding. If I am to achieve +eumoiriety I may as well do it with some distinction. + + + +"Who doth Time gallop withal?" asks Orlando. + +"With a thief to the gallows," says Rosalind. It is true. The days +have an uncanny way of racing by. I see my little allotted span of +life shrinking visibly, like the /peau de chagrin/. I must bestir +myself, or my last day will come before I have accomplished anything. + + + +When I jotted down the above not very original memorandum I had passed +a perfectly uneumoirous week among my friends and social +acquaintances. I had stood godfather to my sister Agatha's fifth +child, taking upon myself obligations which I shall never be able to +perform; I had dined amusingly at my sister Jane's; I had shot +pheasants at Farfax Glenn's place in Hampshire; and I had paid a long- +promised charming country-house visit to old Lady Blackadder. + +When I came back to town, however, I consulted my calendar with some +anxiety, and set out to clear my path. + +I have now practically withdrawn from political life. Letters have +passed; complimentary and sympathetic gentlemen have interviewed me +and tried to weaken my decision. The great Raggles has even called, +and dangled the seals of office before my eyes. I said they were very +pretty. He thought he had tempted me. + +"Hang on as long as you can, for the sake of the Party." + +I spoke playfully of the Party (a man in my position, with one eye on +Time and the other on Eternity, develops an acute sense of values) and +Raggles held up horrified hands. To Raggles the Party is the Alpha and +Omega of things human and divine. It is the guiding principle of the +Cosmos. I could have spoken disrespectfully of the British Empire, of +which he has a confused notion; I could have dismissed the Trinity, on +which his ideas are vaguer, with an airy jest; in the expression of my +views concerning the Creator, whom he believes to be under the Party's +protection, I could have out-Pained Tom Paine, out-Taxiled Leo Taxil, +and he would not have winced. But to blaspheme against the Party was +the sin for which there was no redemption. + +"I always thought you a serious politician!" he gasped. + +"Good God!" I cried. "In my public utterances have I been as dull as +that? Ill-health or no, it is time for me to quit the stage." + +He laughed politely, because he conjectured I was speaking humourously +--he is astute in some things--and begged me to explain. + +I replied that I did not regard mustard poultices as panaceas, the +/vox populi/ as the /Vox Dei/, or the policy of the other side as the +machinations of the Devil; that politics was all a game of guess-work +and muddle and compromise at the best; that, at the worst, as during a +General Election, it was as ignoble a pastime as the wit of man had +devised. To take it seriously would be the course of a fanatic, a man +devoid of the sense of proportion. Were such a man, I asked, fitted to +govern the country? + +He did not stop to argue, but went away leaving me the conviction that +he thanked his stars on the Government's providential escape from so +maniacal a minister. I hope I did not treat him with any discourtesy; +but, oh! it was good to speak the truth after all the dismal lies I +have been forced to tell at the bidding of Raggle's Party. Now that I +am no longer bound by the rules of the game, it is good to feel a +free, honest man. + +Never again shall I stretch forth my arms and thunder invectives +against well-meaning people with whom in my heart I secretly +sympathise. Never again shall I plead passionately for principles +which a horrible instinct tells me are fundamentally futile. Never +again shall I attempt to make mountains out of mole-hills or bricks +without straw or sunbeams out of cucumbers. + +I shall conduct no more inquiries into pauper lunacy, thank Heaven! +And as for the public engagements which Dale Kynnersley made for me +during my Thebaid existence on Murglebed-on-Sea, the deuce can take +them all--I am free. + +I only await the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds, for which +quaint post under the Crown I applied, to cease to be a Member of +Parliament. And yet, in spite of all my fine and superior talk, I am +glad I am giving up in the recess. I should not like to be out of my +seat were the House in session. + +I should hate to think of all the fascinating excitement over nothing +going on in the lobbies without me, while I am still hale and hearty. +When Parliament meets in February I shall either be comfortably dead +or so uncomfortably alive that I shall not care. + +/Ce que c'est que de nous!/ I wonder how far Simon de Gex and I are +deceiving each other? + + + +There is no deception about my old friend Latimer, who called on me a +day or two ago. He is on the Stock Exchange, and, muddle-headed +creature that he is, has been "bearing" the wrong things. They have +gone up sky-high. Settling-day is drawing near, and how to pay for the +shares he is bound to deliver he has not the faintest notion. + +He stamped up and down the room, called down curses on the prying +fools who came across the unexpected streak of copper in the failing +mine, drew heart-rending pictures of his wife and family singing hymns +in the street, and asked me for a drink of prussic acid. I rang the +bell and ordered Rogers to give him a brandy and soda. + +"Now," said I, "talk sense. How much can you raise?" + +He went into figures and showed me that, although he stretched his +credit to the utmost, there were still ten thousand pounds to be +provided. + +"It's utter smash and ruin," he groaned. "And all my accursed folly. I +thought I was going to make a fortune. But I'm done for now." Latimer +is usually a pink, prosperous-looking man. Now he was white and +flabby, a piteous spectacle. "You are executor under my will," he +continued. "Heaven knows I've nothing to leave. But you'll see things +straight for me, if anything happens? You will look after Lucy and the +kids, won't you?" + +I was on the point of undertaking to do so, in the event of the +continuance of his craving for prussic acid, when I reflected upon my +own approaching bow and farewell to the world where Lucy and the kids +would still be wandering. I am always being brought up against this +final fireproof curtain. Suddenly a thought came which caused me to +exult exceedingly. + +"Ten thousand pounds, my dear Latimer," said I, "would save you from +being hammered on the Stock Exchange and from seeking a suicide's +grave. It would also enable you to maintain Lucy and the kids in your +luxurious house at Hampstead, and to take them as usual to Dieppe next +summer. Am I not right?" + +He begged me not to make a jest of his miseries. It was like asking a +starving beggar whether a dinner at the Carlton wouldn't set him up +again. + +"Would ten thousand set you up?" I persisted. + +"Yes. But I might as well try to raise ten million." + +"Not so," I cried, slapping him on the shoulder. "I myself will lend +you the money." + +He leaped to his feet and stared at me wildly in the face. He could +not have been more electrified if he had seen me suddenly adorned with +wings and shining raiment. I experienced a thrill of eumoiriety more +exquisite than I had dreamed of imagining. + +"You?" + +"Why not?" + +"You don't understand. I can give you no security whatsoever." + +"I don't want security and I don't want interest," I exclaimed, +feeling more magnanimous than I had a right to be, seeing that the +interest would be of no use to me on the other side of the Styx. "Pay +me back when and how you like. Come round with me to my bankers and +I'll settle the matter at once." + +He put out his hands; I thought he was about to fall at my feet; he +laughed in a silly way and, groping after brandy and soda, poured half +the contents of the brandy decanter on to the tray. I took him in a +cab, a stupefied man, to the bank, and when he left me at the door +with my draft in his pocket, there were tears in his eyes. He wrung my +hand and murmured something incoherent about Lucy. + +"For Heaven's sake, don't tell her anything about it," I entreated. "I +love Lucy dearly, as you know; but I don't want to have her weeping on +my door-mat." + +I walked back to my rooms with a springing step. So happy was I that I +should have liked to dance down Piccadilly. If the Faculty had not +made their pronouncement, I could have no more turned poor Latimer's +earth from hell to heaven than I could have changed St. Paul's +Cathedral into a bumblebee. The mere possibility of lending him the +money would not have occurred to me. + +A man of modest fortune does not go about playing Monte Cristo. He +gives away a few guineas in charity; but he keeps the bulk of his +fortune to himself. The death sentence, I vow, has compensations. It +enables a man to play Monte Cristo or any other avatar of Providence +with impunity, and to-day I have discovered it to be the most +fascinating game in the world. + +When Latimer recovers his equilibrium and regards the transaction in +the dry light of reason, he will diagnose a sure symptom of +megalomania, and will pity me in his heart for a poor devil. + + + +I have seen Eleanor Faversham, and she has released me from my +engagement with such grace, dignity, and sweet womanliness that I +wonder how I could have railed at her thousand virtues. + +"It's honourable of you to give me this opportunity of breaking it +off, Simon," she said, "but I care enough for you to be willing to +take my chance of illness." + +"You do care for me?" I asked. + +She raised astonished eyes. "If I didn't, do you suppose I should have +engaged myself to you? If I married you I should swear to cherish you +in sickness and in health. Why won't you let me?" + +I was in a difficulty. To say that I was in ill-health and about to +resign my seat in Parliament and a slave to doctor's orders was one +thing; it was another to tell her brutally that I had received my +death warrant. She would have taken it much more to heart than I do. + +The announcement would have been a shock. It would have kept the poor +girl awake of nights. She would have been for ever seeing the hand of +Death at my throat. Every time we met she would have noted on my face, +in my gait, infallible signs of my approaching end. I had not the +right to inflict such intolerable pain on one so near and dear to me. + +Besides, I am vain enough to want to walk forth somewhat gallantly +into eternity; and while I yet live I particularly desire that folks +should not regard me as half-dead. I defy you to treat a man who is +only going to live twenty weeks in the same pleasant fashion as you +would a man who has the run of life before him. + +There is always an instinctive shrinking from decay. I should think +that corpses must feel their position acutely. + +It was entirely for Eleanor's sake that I refrained from taking her +into my confidence. To her question I replied that I had not the right +to tie her for life to a helpless valetudinarian. "Besides," said I, +"as my health grows worse my jokes will deteriorate, until I am +reduced to grinning through a horse-collar at the doctor. And you +couldn't stand that, could you?" + +She upbraided me gently for treating everything as a jest. + +"It isn't that you want to get rid of me, Simon?" she asked tearfully, +but with an attempt at a smile. + +I took both hands and looked into her eyes--they are brave, truthful +eyes--and through my heart shot a great pain. Till that moment I had +not realised what I was giving up. The pleasant paths of the world--I +could leave them behind with a shrug. Political ambition, power, I +could justly estimate their value and could let them pass into other +hands without regret. But here was the true, staunch woman, great of +heart and wise, a helper and a comrade, and, if I chose to throw off +the jester and become the lover in real earnest and sweep my hand +across the hidden chords, all that a woman can become towards the man +she loves. I realised this. + +I realised that if she did not love me passionately now it was only +because I, in my foolishness, had willed it otherwise. For the first +time I longed to have her as my own; for the first time I rebelled. I +looked at her hungeringly until her cheeks grew red and her eyelids +fluttered. I had a wild impulse to throw my arms around her, and kiss +her as I had never kissed her before and bid her forget all that I had +said that day. Her faltering eyes told me that they read my longing. I +was about to yield when the little devil of a pain inside made itself +sharply felt and my madness went from me. I fetched a thing half-way +between a sigh and a groan, and dropped her hands. + +"Need I answer your question?" I asked. + +She turned her head aside and whispered "No." + +Presently she said, "I am glad I came back from Sicily. I shouldn't +have liked you to write this to me. I shouldn't have understood." + +"Do you now?" + +"I think so." She looked at me frankly. "Until just now I was never +quite certain whether you really cared for me." + +"I never cared for you so much as I do now, when I have to lose you." + +"And you must lose me?" + +"A man in my condition would be a scoundrel if he married a woman." + +"Then it is very, very serious--your illness?" + +"Yes," said I, "very serious. I must give you your freedom whether you +want it or not." + +She passed one hand over the other on her knee, looking at the +engagement ring. Then she took it off and presented it to me, lying in +the palm of her right hand. + +"Do what you like with it," she said very softly. + +I took the ring and slipped it on one of the right-hand fingers. + +"It would comfort me to think that you are wearing it," said I. + +Then her mother came into the room and Eleanor went out. I am thankful +to say that Mrs. Faversham who is a woman only guided by sentiment +when it leads to a worldly advantage, applauded the step I had taken. +As a sprightly Member of Parliament, with an assured political and +social position, I had been a most desirable son-in-law. As an obscure +invalid, coughing and spitting from a bath-chair at Bournemouth (she +took it for granted that I was in the last stage of consumption), I +did not take the lady's fancy. + +"My dear Simon," replied my lost mother-in-law, "you have behaved +irreproachably. Eleanor will feel it for some time no doubt; but she +is young and will soon get over it. I'll send her to the Drascombe- +Prynnes in Paris. And as for yourself, your terrible misfortune will +be as much as you can bear. You mustn't increase it by any worries on +her behalf. In that way I'll do my utmost to help you." + +"You are kindness itself, Mrs. Faversham," said I. + +I bowed over the delighted lady's hand and went away, deeply moved by +her charity and maternal devotion. + +But perhaps in her hardness lies truth. I have never touched Eleanor's +heart. No romance had preceded or accompanied our engagement. The +deepest, truest incident in it has been our parting. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +Dale's occupation, like Othello's, being gone, as far as I am +concerned, Lady Kynnersley has despatched him to Berlin, on her own +business, connected, I think, with the International Aid Society. He +is to stay there for a fortnight. + +How he proposes to bear the separation from the object of his flame I +have not inquired; but if forcible objurgations in the vulgar tongue +have any inner significance, I gather that Lady Kynnersley has not +employed an enthusiastic agent. + +Being thus free to pursue my eumoirous schemes without his +intervention, for you cannot talk to a lady for her soul's good when +her adorer is gaping at you, I have taken the opportunity to see +something of Lola Brandt. + +I find I have seen a good deal of her; and it seems not improbable +that I shall see considerably more. Deuce take the woman! + +On the first afternoon of Dale's absence I paid her my promised visit. +It was a dull day, and the room, lit chiefly by the firelight, happily +did not reveal its nerve-racking tastelessness. Lola Brandt, supple- +limbed and lazy-voiced, talked to me from the cushioned depths of her +chair. + +We lightly touched on Dale's trip to Berlin. She would miss him +terribly. It was so kind of me to come and cheer her lonely hour. +Politeness forbade my saying that I had come to do nothing of the +sort. To my vague expression of courtesy she responded by asking me +with a laugh how I liked Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos. + +I replied that I considered it urbane on his part to invite me to see +his cats perform. + +"If you were to hurt one of his cats he'd murder you," she informed +me. "He always carries a long, sharp knife concealed somewhere about +him on purpose." + +"What a fierce little gentleman," I remarked. + +"He looks on me as one of his cats, too," she said with a low laugh, +"and considers himself my protector. Once in Buda-Pesth he and I were +driving about. I was doing some shopping. As I was getting into the +cab a man insulted me, on account, I suppose, of my German name. +Anastasius sprang at him like a wild beast, and I had to drag him off +bodily and lift him back into the cab. I'm pretty strong, you know. It +must have been a funny sight." She turned to me quickly. "Do you think +it wrong of me to laugh?" + +"Why shouldn't you laugh at the absurd?" + +"Because in devotion like that there seems to be something solemn and +frightening. If I told him to kill his cats, he would do it. If I +ordered him to commit Hari-Kari on the hearthrug, he would whip out +his knife and obey me. When you have a human soul at your mercy like +that, it's a kind of sacrilege to laugh at it. It makes you feel--oh, +I can't express myself. Look, it doesn't make tears come into your +eyes exactly, it makes them come into your heart." + +We continued the subject, divagating as we went, and had a nice little +sentimental conversation. There are depths of human feeling I should +never have suspected in this lazy panther of a woman, and although she +openly avows having no more education than a tinker's dog, she can +talk with considerable force and vividness of expression. + +Indeed, when one comes to think of it, a tinker's dog has a fine +education if he be naturally a shrewd animal and takes advantage of +his opportunities; and a fine education, too, of its kind was that of +the vagabond Lola, who on her way from Dublin to Yokohama had more +profitably employed her time than Lady Kynnersley supposed. She had +seen much of the civilised places of the earth in her wanderings from +engagement to engagement, and had been an acute observer of men and +things. + +We exchanged travel pictures and reminiscences. I found myself +floating with her through moonlit Venice, while she chanted with +startling exactness the cry of the gondoliers. To my confusion be it +spoken, I forgot all about Dale Kynnersley and my mission. The lazy +voice and rich personality fascinated me. When I rose to go I found I +had spent a couple of hours in her company. She took me round the room +and showed me some of her treasures. + +"This is very old. I think it is fifteenth century," she said, picking +up an Italian ivory. + +It was. I expressed my admiration. Then maliciously I pointed to a +horrible little Tyrolean chalet and said: + +"That, too, is very pretty." + +"It isn't. And you know it." + +She is a most disconcerting creature. I accepted the rebuke meekly. +What else could I do? + +"Why, then, do you have it here?" + +"It's a present from Anastasius," she said. "Every time he comes to +see me he brings what he calls an /'offrande'/. All these things"--she +indicated, with a comprehensive sweep of the arm, the Union Jack +cushion, the little men mounting ladders inside bottles, the hen +sitting on her nest, and the other trumpery gimcracks--"all these +things are presents from Anastasius. It would hurt him not to see them +here when he calls." + +"You might have a separate cabinet," I suggested. + +"A chamber of horrors?" she laughed. "No. It gives him more pleasure +to see them as they are--and a poor little freak doesn't get much out +of life." + +She sighed, and picking up "A Present from Margate" kind of mug, +fingered it very tenderly. + +I went away feeling angry. Was the woman bewitching me? And I felt +angrier still when I met Lady Kynnersley at dinner that evening. +Luckily I had only a few words with her. Had I done anything yet with +regard to Dale and the unmentionable woman? If I had told her that I +had spent a most agreeable afternoon with the enchantress, she would +not have enjoyed her evening. Like General Trochu of the Siege of +Paris fame, I said in my most mysterious manner, "I have my plan," and +sent her into dinner comforted. + +But I had no plan. My next interview with Madame Brandt brought me no +further. We have established telephonic communications. Through the +medium of this diabolical engine of loquacity and indiscretion, I was +prevailed on to accompany her to a rehearsal of Anastasius's cats. + +Rogers, with a face as imperturbable as if he was announcing the visit +of an archbishop, informed me at the appointed hour that Madame +Brandt's brougham was at the door. I went down and found the brougham +open, as the day was fine, and Lola Brandt, smiling under a gigantic +hat with an amazing black feather, and looking as handsome as you +please. + +We were blocked for a few minutes at the mouth of the courtyard, and I +had the pleasure of all Piccadilly that passed staring at us in +admiration. Lola Brandt liked it; but I didn't, especially when I +recognised one of the starers as the eldest Drascombe-Prynne boy whose +people in Paris are receiving Eleanor Faversham under their +protection. A nice reputation I shall be acquiring. My companion was +in gay mood. Now, as it is no part of dealing unto oneself a happy +life and portion to damp a fellow creature's spirits, I responded with +commendable gaiety. + +I own that the drive to Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos's cattery in +Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, was distinctly enjoyable. I forgot all +about the little pain inside and the Fury with the abhorred shears, +and talked a vast amount of nonsense which the lady was pleased to +regard as wit, for she laughed wholeheartedly, showing her strong +white, even teeth. But why was I going? + +Was it because she had requested me through the telephone to give +unimagined happiness to a poor little freak who would be as proud as +Punch to exhibit his cats to an English Member of Parliament? Was it +in order to further my designs--Machiavellian towards the lady, but +eumoirous towards Dale? Or was it simply for my own good pleasure? + +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos, resplendently raimented, with the +shiniest of silk hats and a flower in the buttonhole of his frock- +coat, received us at the door of a small house, the first-floor +windows of which announced the tenancy of a maker of gymnastic +appliances; and having kissed Madame Brandt's hand with awful +solemnity and bowed deeply to me, he preceded us down the passage, out +into the yard, and into a ramshackle studio at the end, where his cats +had their being. + +There were fourteen of them, curled up in large cages standing against +the walls. The place was lit by a skylight and warmed by a stove. The +floor, like a stage, was fitted up with miniature acrobatic +paraphernalia and properties. There were little five-barred gates, and +trapezes, and tight-ropes, and spring-boards, and a trestle-table, all +the metal work gleaming like silver. A heavy, uncouth German lad, whom +the professor introduced as his pupil and assistant, Quast, was in +attendance. Mr. Papadopoulos polyglotically acknowledged the honour I +had conferred upon him. He is very like the late Emperor of the +French; but his forehead is bulgier. + +With a theatrical gesture and the remark that I should see, he opened +some cages and released half a dozen cats--a Persian, a white Angora, +and four commonplace tabbies, who all sprang on to the table with +military precision. Madame Brand began to caress them. I, wishing to +show interest in the troupe, prepared to do the same; but the dwarf +scurried up with a screech from the other end of the room. + +/"Ne touchez pas--ne touchez pas!"/ + +I refrained, somewhat wonderingly, from touching. Madame Brandt +explained. + +"He thinks you would spoil the magnetic influence. It is a +superstition of his." + +"But you are touching." + +"He believes I have his magnetism--whatever that may be," she said, +with a smile. "Would you like to see an experiment? Anastasius!" + +"Carissima." + +"Is that the untamed Persian you were telling me of?" she asked, +pointing to a cage from which a ferocious gigantic animal more like a +woolly tiger than a tom-cat looked out with expressionless yellow +eyes. "Will you let Mr. de Gex try to make friends with it?" + +"Your will is law, meine Konigin," replied Professor Papadopoulos, +bowing low. "But Hephaestus is as fierce as the flames of hell." + +"See what he'll do," laughed Lola Brandt. + +I approached the cage with an ingratiating, "Puss, puss!" and a +hideous growl welcomed me. I ventured my hand towards the bars. The +beast bristled in demoniac wrath, spat with malignant venom, and shot +out its claws. If I had touched it my hand would have been torn to +shreds. I have never seen a more malevolent, fierce, spiteful, ill- +conditioned brute in my life. My feelings being somewhat hurt, and my +nerves a bit shaken, I retreated hastily. + +"Now look," said Lola Brandt. + +With absolute fearlessness she went up to the cage, opened it, took +the unresisting thing out by the scruff of its neck, held it up like a +door-mat, and put it on her shoulder, where it forthwith began to purr +like any harmless necessary cat and rub its head against her cheek. +She put it on the floor; it arched its back and circling sideways +rubbed itself against her skirts. + +She sat down, and taking the brute by its forepaws made it stand on +its hind legs. She pulled it on to her lap and it curled round lazily. +Then she hoisted it on to her shoulder again, and, rising, crossed the +room and bowed to the level of the cage, when the beast leaped in +purring thunderously in high good humour. Mr. Papadopoulos sang out in +breathless delight: + +"If I am the King of Cats, you, Carissima, are the Queen. Nay, more, +you are the Goddess!" + +Lola Brandt laughed. I did not. It was uncanny. It seemed as if some +mysterious freemasonic affinity existed between her and the evil +beast. During her drive hither she had entered my own atmosphere. She +had been the handsome, unconventional woman of the world. Now she +seemed as remote from me as the witches in "Macbeth." + +If I had seen her dashing Paris hat rise up into a point and her +umbrella turn into a broomstick, and herself into one of the buxom +carlines of "Tam O'Shanter," I should not have been surprised. The +feats of the mild pussies which the dwarf began forthwith to exhibit +provoked in me but a polite counterfeit of enthusiasm. Lola Brandt had +discounted my interest. Even his performance with the ferocious +Persian lacked the diabolical certainty of Lola's handling. He locked +all the other cats up and enticed it out of the cage with a piece of +fish. He guided it with a small whip, as it jumped over gates and +through blazing hoops, and he stood tense and concentrated, like a +lion-tamer. + +The act over, the cat turned and snarled and only jumped into its cage +after a smart flick of the whip. The dwarf did not touch it once with +his hands. I applauded, however, and complimented him. He laid his +hand on his heart and bent forward in humility. + +"Ah, monsieur, I am but a neophyte where Madame is an expert. I know +the superficial nature of cats. Now and then without vainglory I can +say I know their hearts; but Madame penetrates to and holds commune +with their souls. And a cat's soul, monsieur, is a wonderful thing. +Once it was divine--in ancient Egypt. Doubtless monsieur has heard of +Pasht? Holy men spent their lives in approaching the cat-soul. Madame +was born to the privilege. Pasht watches over her." + +"Pasht," I said politely in French, in reply to this clotted nonsense, +"was a great divinity. And for yourself, who knows but what you may +have been in a previous incarnation the keeper of the Sacred Cats in +some Egyptian temple." + +"I was," he said, with staggering earnestness. "At Memphis." + +"One of these days," I returned, with equal solemnity, "I hope for the +privilege of hearing some of your reminiscences. They would no doubt +be interesting." + +On the way back Lola thanked me for pretending to take the little man +seriously, and not laughing at him. + +"If I hadn't," said I, "he would have stuck his knife into me." + +She shook her head. "You did it naturally. I was watching you. It is +because you are a generous-hearted gentleman." + +Said I: "If you talk like that I'll get out and walk." + +And, indeed, what right had she to characterise the moral condition of +my heart? I asked her. She laughed her low, lazy laugh, but made no +reply. Presently she said: + +"Why didn't you like my making friends with the cat?" + +"How do you know I didn't like it?" I asked. + +"I felt it." + +"You mustn't feel things like that," I remarked. "It isn't good for +you." + +She insisted on my telling her. I explained as well as I could. She +touched the sleeve of my coat with her gloved hand. + +"I'm glad, because it shows you take an interest in me. And I wanted +to let you see that I could do something besides loll about in a +drawing-room and smoke cigarettes. It's all I can do. But it's +something." She said it with the humility of the Jongleur de Notre +Dame in Anatole Frances's story. + +In Eaton Square, where I had a luncheon engagement, she dropped me, +and drove off smiling, evidently well pleased with herself. My hostess +was standing by the window when I was shown into the drawing-room. I +noted the faintest possible little malicious twinkle in her eye. + +During the afternoon I had a telephonic message from my doctor, who +asked me why I had neglected him for a fortnight and urged me to go to +Harley Street at once. To humour him I went the next morning. +Hunnington is a bluff, hearty fellow who feeds himself into pink +floridity so as to give confidence to his patients. In answer to his +renewed inquiry as to my neglect, I remarked that a man condemned to +be hanged doesn't seek interviews with the judge in order to learn how +the rope is getting on. I conveyed to him politely, although he is an +old friend, that I desired to forget his well-fed existence. In his +chatty way he requested me not to be an ass, and proceeded to put to +me the usual silly questions. + +Remembering the result of my last visit, I made him happy by answering +them gloomily; whereupon he seized his opportunity and ordered me out +of England for the winter. I must go to a warm climate--Egypt, South +Africa, Madeira--I could take my choice. I flatly refused to obey. I +had my duties in London. He was so unsympathetic as to damn my duties. +My duty was to live as long as possible, and my wintering in London +would probably curtail my short life by two months. Then I turned on +him and explained the charitable disingenuousness of my replies to his +questions. He refused to believe me, and we parted with mutual +recriminations. I sent him next day, however, a brace of pheasants, a +present from Farfax Glenn. After all, he is one of God's creatures. + +The next time I called on Lola Brandt I went with the fixed +determination to make some progress in my mission. I vowed that I +would not be seduced by trumpery conversation about Yokohama or allow +my mind to be distracted by absurd adventures among cats. I would +clothe myself in the armour of eumoiriety, and, with the sword of duty +in my hand, would go forth to battle with the enchantress. All said +and done, what was she but a bold-faced, strapping woman without an +idea in her head save the enslavement of an impressionable boy several +years her junior? It was preposterous that I, Simon de Gex, who had +beguiled and fooled an electorate of thirty thousand hard-headed men +into choosing me for their representative in Parliament, should not be +a match for Lola Brandt. As for her complicated feminine personality, +her intuitiveness, her magnetism, her fascination, all the qualities +in fact which my poetical fancy had assigned to her, they had no +existence in reality. She was the most commonplace person I had ever +encountered, and I had been but a sentimental lunatic. + +In this truly admirable frame of mind I entered her drawing-room. She +threw down the penny novel she was reading, and with a little cry of +joy sprang forward to greet me. + +"I'm so glad you've come. I was getting the blind hump!" + +Did I not say she was commonplace? I hate this synonym for boredom. It +may be elegant in the mouth of a duchess and pathetic in that of an +oyster-wench, but it falls vulgarly from intermediate lips. + +"What has given it to you?" I asked. + +"My poor little ouistiti is dead. It is this abominable climate." + +I murmured condolences. I could not exhibit unreasonable grief at the +demise of a sick monkey which I had never seen. + +"I'm also out of books," she said, after having paid her tribute to +the memory of the departed. "I have been forced to ask the servants to +lend me something to read. Have you ever tried this sort of thing? You +ought to. It tells you what goes on in high society." + +I was sure it didn't. Not a duchess in its pages talked about having a +blind hump. I said gravely: + +"I will ask you to lend it to me. Since Dale has been away I've had no +one to make out my library list." + +"Do turn Adolphus out of that chair and sit down," she said, sinking +into her accustomed seat. Adolphus was the Chow dog before mentioned, +an accomplished animal who could mount guard with the poker and stand +on his head, and had been pleased to favour me with his friendship. + +"I miss Dale greatly," said I. + +"I suppose you do. You are very fond of him?" + +"Very," said I. "By the by, how did you first come across Dale?" + +She threw me a swift glance and smiled. + +"Oh, in the most respectable way. I was dining at the Carlton with Sir +Joshua Oldfield, the famous surgeon, you know. He performed a silly +little operation on me last year, and since then we've been great +friends. Dale and some sort of baby boy were dining there, too, and +afterwards, in the lounge, Sir Joshua introduced them to me. Dale +asked me if he could call. I said 'Yes.' Perhaps I was wrong. Anyhow, +/voila/! Do you know Sir Joshua?" + +"I sat next to him once at a public dinner. He's a friend of the +Kynnersleys. A genial old soul." + +"He's a dear!" said Lola. + +"Do you know many of Dale's friends?" I asked. + +"Hardly any," she replied. "It's rather lonesome." Then she broke into +a laugh. + +"I was so terrified at meeting you the first time. Dale can talk of no +one else. He makes a kind of god of you. I felt I was going to hate +you like the devil. I expected quite a different person." + +The diplomatist listens to much and says little. + +"Indeed," I remarked. + +She nodded. "I thought you would be a big beefy man with a red face, +you know. He gave me the idea somehow by calling you a 'splendid +chap.' You see, I couldn't think of a 'splendid chap' with a white +face and a waxed moustache and your way of talking." + +"I am sorry," said I, "not to come up to your idea of the heroic." + +"But you do!" she cried, with one of her supple twists of the body. +"It was I that was stupid. And I don't hate you at all. You can see +that I don't. I didn't even hate you when you came as an enemy." + +"Ah!" said I. "What made you think that? We agreed to argue it out, if +you remember." + +She drew out of a case beside her one of her unspeakable cigarettes. +"Do you suppose," she said, lighting it, and pausing to inhale the +first two or three puffs of smoke, "do you suppose that a woman who +has lived among wild beasts hasn't got instinct?" + +I drew my chair nearer to the fire. She was beginning to be uncanny +again. + +"I expected you were going to be horrified at the dreadful creature +your friend had taken up with. Oh, yes, I know in the eyes of your +class I'm a dreadful creature. I'm like a cat in many ways. I'm +suspicious of strangers, especially strangers of your class, and I +sniff and sniff until I feel it's all right. After the first few +minutes I felt you were all right. You're true and honourable, like +Dale, aren't you?" + +Like a panther making a sudden spring, she sat bolt upright in her +chair as she launched this challenge at me. Now, it is disconcerting +to a man to have a woman leap at his throat and ask him whether he is +true and honourable, especially when his attitude towards her +approaches the Machiavellian. + +I could only murmur modestly that I hoped I could claim these +qualifications. + +"And you don't think me a dreadful woman?" + +"So far from it, Madame Brandt," I replied, "that I think you a +remarkable one." + +"I wonder if I am," she said, sinking back among her cushions. "I +should like to be for Dale's sake. I suppose you know I care a great +deal for Dale?" + +"I have taken the liberty of guessing it," said I. "And since you have +done me the honour of taking me so far into your confidence," I added, +playing what I considered to be my master-card, "may I venture to ask +whether you have contemplated"--I paused--"marriage?" + +Her brow grew dark, as she looked involuntarily at her bare left hand. + +"I have got a husband already," she replied. + +As I expected. Ladies like Lola Brandt always have husbands unfit for +publication; and as the latter seem to make it a point of honour never +to die, widowed Lolas are as rare as blackberries in spring. + +"Forgive my rudeness," I said, "but you wear no wedding ring." + +"I threw it into the sea." + +"Ah!" said I. + +"Do you want to hear about him?" she asked suddenly. "If we are to be +friends, perhaps you had better know. Somehow I don't like talking to +Dale about it. Do you mind putting some coals on the fire?" + +I busied myself with the coal-scuttle, lit a cigarette, and settled +down to hear the story. If it had not been told in the twilight hour +by a woman with a caressing, enveloping voice like Lola Brandt's I +should have yawned myself out of the house. + +It was a dismal, ordinary story. Her husband was a gentleman, a +Captain Vauvenarde in the French Army. He had fallen in love with her +when she had first taken Marseilles captive with the prodigiosities of +her horse Sultan. His proposals of manifold unsanctified delights met +with unqualified rejection by the respectable and not too passionately +infatuated Lola. When he nerved himself to the supreme sacrifice of +offering marriage she accepted. + +She had dreams of social advancement, yearned to be one of the white +faces of the audience in the front rows. The civil ceremony having +been performed, he pleaded with her for a few weeks' secrecy on +account of his family. The weeks grew into months, during which, for +the sake of a livelihood, she fulfilled her professional engagements +in many other towns. At last, when she returned to Marseilles, it +became apparent that Captain Vauvenarde had no intention whatever of +acknowledging her openly as his wife. Hence many tears. Moreover, he +had little beyond his pay and his gambling debts, instead of the +comfortable little fortune that would have assured her social +position. Now, officers in the French Army who marry ladies with +performing horses are not usually guided by reason; and Captain +Vauvenarde seems to have been the most unreasonable being in the +world. It was beneath the dignity of Captain Vauvenarde's wife to make +a horse do tricks in public, and it was beneath Captain Vauvenarde's +dignity to give her his name before the world. She must neither be +Lola Brandt nor Madame Vauvenarde. She must give up her fairly +lucrative profession and live in semi-detached obscurity up a little +back street on an allowance of twopence-halfpenny a week and be happy +and cheerful and devoted. Lola refused. Hence more tears. + +There were scenes of frantic jealousy, not on account of any human +being, but on account of the horse. If she loved him as much as she +loved that abominable quadruped whose artificial airs and graces made +him sick every time he looked at it, she would accede to his desire. +Besides, he had the husband's right--a powerful privilege in France. +She pointed out that he could only exercise it by declaring her to be +his wife. Relations were strained. They led separate lives. From +Marseilles she went to Genoa, whither he followed her. Eventually he +went away in a temper and never came back. She had not heard from him +since, and where he was at the present moment she had not the faintest +idea. + +"So you went cheerfully on with your profession?" I remarked. + +"I returned to Marseilles, and there I lost my horse Sultan. Then my +father died and left me pretty well off, and I hadn't the heart to +train another animal. So here I am. Ah!" + +With one of her lithe movements she rose to her feet, and, flinging +out her arms in a wide gesture, began to walk about the room, stopping +here and there to turn on the light and draw the flaring chintz +curtains. I rose, too, so as to aid her. Suddenly as we met, by the +window, she laid both her hands on my shoulders and looked into my +face earnestly and imploringly, and her lips quivered. I wondered +apprehensively what she was going to do next. + +"For God's sake, be my friend and help me!" + +The cry, in her rich, low notes, seemed to come from the depths of the +woman's nature. It caused some absurd and unnecessary chord within me +to vibrate. + +For the first time I realised that her strong, handsome face could +look nobly and pathetically beautiful. Her eyes swam in an adorable +moisture and grew very human and appealing. In a second all my self- +denying ordinances were forgotten. The witch had me in her power +again. + +"My dear Madame Brandt," said I, "how can I do it?" + +"Don't take Dale from me. I've lived alone, alone, alone all these +years, and I couldn't bear it." + +"Do you care for him so very much?" + +She withdrew her hands and moved slightly. "Who else in the wide world +have I to care for?" + +This was very pathetic, but I had the sense to remark that +compromising the boy's future was not the best way of showing her +devotion. + +"Oh, how could I do that?" she asked. "I can't marry him. And if I do +what I've never done before for any man--become his mistress--who need +know? I could stay in the background." + +"You seem to forget, dear lady," said I, "that Captain Vauvenarde is +probably alive." + +"But I tell you I've lost sight of him altogether." + +"Are you quite so sure," I asked, regaining my sanity by degrees, +"that Captain Vauvenarde has lost sight of you?" + +She turned quickly. "What do you mean?" + +"You have given him no chance as yet of recovering his freedom." + +She passed her hand over her face, and sat down on the sofa. "Do you +mean--divorce?" + +"It's an ugly word, dear Madame Brandt," said I, as gently as I could, +"but you and I are strong people and needn't fear uttering it. Don't +you think such a scandal would ruin Dale at the very beginning of his +career?" + +There was a short silence. I was glad to see she was feminine enough +to twist and tear her handkerchief. + +"What am I to do?" she asked at last. "I can't live this awful lonely +life much longer. Sometimes I get the creeps." + +I might have given her the sound advice to find healthy occupation in +training crocodiles to sit up and beg; but an idea which advanced +thinkers might classify as more suburban was beginning to take shape +in my mind. + +"Has it occurred to you," I said, "that now you have assumed the +qualifications imposed by Captain Vauvenarde for bearing his name?" + +"I don't understand." + +"You no longer perform in public. He would have no possible grievance +against you." + +"Are you suggesting that I should go back to my husband?" she gasped. + +"I am," said I, feeling mighty diplomatic. + +She looked straight in front of her, with parted lips, fingering her +handkerchief and evidently pondering the entirely new suggestion. I +thought it best to let her ponder. As a general rule, people will do +anything in the world rather than think; so, when one sees a human +being wrapped in thought, one ought to regard wilful disturbance of +the process as sacrilege. I lit a cigarette and wandered about the +room. + +Eventually I came to a standstill before the Venus of Milo. But while +I was admiring its calm, mysterious beauty, the development of a +former idea took the shape of an inspiration which made my heart sing. +Fate had put into my hands the chance of complete eumoiriety. + +If I could effect a reconciliation between Lola Brandt and her +husband, Dale would be cured almost automatically of his infatuation, +and I should be the Deputy Providence bringing happiness to six human +beings--Lola Brandt, Captain Vauvenarde, Lady Kynnersley, Maisie +Ellerton, Dale, and Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos, who could not fail to +be delighted at the happiness of his goddess. + +There also might burst joyously on the earth a brood of gleeful little +Vauvenardes and merry little Kynnersleys, who might regard Simon de +Gex as their mythical progenitor. It might add to the gaiety of +regiments and the edification of parliaments. Acts should be judged, +thought I, not according to their trivial essence, but by the light of +their far-reaching consequences. + +Lola Brandt broke the silence. She did not look at me. She said: + +"I can't help feeling that you're my friend." + +"I am," I cried, in the exultation of my promotion to the role of +Deputy Providence. "I am indeed. And a most devoted one." + +"Will you let me think over what you've said for a day or two--and +then come for an answer?" + +"Willingly," said I. + +"And you won't----?" + +"What?" + +"No. I know you won't." + +"Tell Dale?" I said, guessing. "No, of course not." + +She rose and put out both her hands to me in a very noble gesture. I +took them and kissed one of them. + +She looked at me with parted lips. + +"You are the best man I have ever met," she said. + +At the moment of her saying it I believed it; such conviction is +induced by the utterances of this singular woman. But when I got +outside the drawing-room door my natural modesty revolted. I slapped +my thigh impatiently with what I thought were my gloves. They made so +little sound that I found there was only one. I had left the other +inside. I entered and found Lola Brandt in front of the fire holding +my glove in her hand. She started in some confusion. + +"Is this yours?" she asked. + +Now whose could it have been but mine? The ridiculous question worried +me, off and on, all the evening. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +The murder is out. A paragraph has appeared in the newspapers to the +effect that the marriage arranged between Mr. Simon de Gex and Miss +Eleanor Faversham will not take place. It has also become common +knowledge that I am resigning my seat in Parliament on account of ill- +health. That is the reason rightly assigned by my acquaintances for +the rupture of my engagement. I am being rapidly killed by the doleful +kindness of my friends. They are so dismally sympathetic. Everywhere I +go there are long faces and solemn hand-shakes. In order to cheer +myself I gave a little dinner-party at the club, and the function +might have been a depressed wake with my corpse in a coffin on the +table. My sisters, dear, kind souls, follow me with anxious eyes as if +I were one of their children sickening for chicken-pox. They upbraid +me for leaving them in ignorance, and in hushed voices inquire as to +my symptoms. They both came this morning to the Albany to see what +they could do for me. I don't see what they can do, save help Rogers +put studs in my shirts. They expressed such affectionate concern that +at last I cried out: + +"My dear girls, if you don't smile, I'll sit upon the hearthrug and +howl like a dog." + +Then they exchanged glances and broke into hectic gaiety, dear things, +under the impression that they were brightening me up. I am being +deluged with letters. I had no idea I was such a popular person. They +come from high placed and lowly, from constituents whom my base and +servile flattery have turned into friends, from Members of Parliament, +from warm-hearted dowagers and from little girls who have inveigled me +out to lunch for the purpose of confiding to me their love affairs. I +could set up as a general practitioner of medicine on the advice that +is given me. I am recommended cod-liver oil, lung tonic, electric +massage, abdominal belts, warm water, mud baths, Sandow's treatment, +and every patent medicament save rat poison. I am urged to go to +health resorts ranging geographically from the top of the Jungfrau to +Central Africa. All kinds of worthy persons have offered to nurse me. +Old General Wynans writes me a four-page letter to assure me that I +have only to go to his friend Dr. Eustace Adams, of Wimpole Street, to +be cured like a shot. I happen to know that Eustace Adams is an +eminent gynecologist. + +And the worst of it all is that these effusions written in the milk of +human kindness have to be answered. Dale is not here. I have to sit +down at my desk and toil like a galley slave. I am being worn to a +shadow. + +Lola Brandt, too, has heard the news, Dale in Berlin, and the London +newspapers being her informants. Tears stood in her eyes when I called +to learn her decision. Why had I not told her I was so ill? Why had I +let her worry me with her silly troubles? Why had I not consulted her +friend, Sir Joshua Oldfield? She filled up my chair with cushions +(which, like most men, I find stuffy and comfortless), and if I had +given her the slightest encouragement, would have stuck my feet in hot +mustard and water. Why had I come out on such a dreadful day? It was +indeed a detestable day of raw fog. She pulled the curtains close, +and, insisting upon my remaining among my cushions, piled the grate +with coal half-way up the chimney. Would I like some eucalyptus? + +"My dear Madame Brandt," I cried, "my bronchial tubes and lungs are as +strong as a hippopotamus's." + +I wish every one would not conclude that I was going off in a rapid +decline. + +Lola Brandt prowled about me in a wistful, mothering way, showing me a +fresh side of her nature. She is as domesticated as Penelope. + +"You're fond of cooking, aren't you?" I asked suddenly. + +She laughed. "I adore it. How do you know?" + +"I guessed," said I. + +"I'm what the French call a /vraie bourgeoise/." + +"I'm glad to hear it," said I. + +"Are you? I thought your class hated the /bourgeoisie/." + +"The /bourgeoisie/," I said, "is the nation's granary of the virtues. +But for God's sake, don't tell any one that I said so!" + +"Why?" she asked. + +"If it found its way into print it would ruin my reputation for +epigram." + +She drew a step or two towards me in her slow rhythmic way, and +smiled. + +"When you say or do a beautiful thing you always try to bite off its +tail." + +Then she turned and drew some needlework--plain sewing I believe they +call it--from beneath the Union Jack cushion and sat down. + +"I'll make a confession," she said. "Until now I've stuffed away my +work when I heard you coming. I didn't think it genteel. What do you +think?" + +I scanned the shapeless mass of linen or tulle or whatever it was on +her lap. + +"I don't know whether it's genteel," I remarked, "but at present it +looks like nothing on God's earth." + +My masculine ignorance of such mysteries made her laugh. She is +readily moved to mild mirth, which makes her an easy companion. +Besides, little jokes are made to be laughed at, and I like women who +laugh at them. There was a brief silence. I smoked and made Adolphus +stand up on his hind legs and balance sugar on his nose. His mistress +sewed. Presently she said, without looking up from her work: + +"I've made up my mind." + +I rose from my cushioned seat, into which Adolphus, evidently thinking +me a fool, immediately snuggled himself, and I stood facing her with +my back to the fire. + +"Well?" said I. + +"I am ready to go back to my husband, if he can be found, and, of +course, if he will have me." + +I commended her for a brave women. She smiled rather sadly and shook +her head. + +"Those are two gigantic 'ifs.'" + +"Giants before now have been slain by the valiant," I replied. + +"How is Captain Vauvenarde to be found?" + +"An officer in the French Army is not like a lost sparrow in London. +His whereabouts could be obtained from the French War Office. What is +his regiment?" + +"The Chasseurs d'Afrique. Yes," she added thoughtfully. "I see, it +isn't difficult to trace him. I make one condition, however. You can't +refuse me." + +"What is that?" + +"Until things are fixed up everything must go on just as at present +between Dale and me. He is not to be told anything. If nothing comes +of it then I'll have him all to myself. I won't give him up and be +left alone. As long as I care for him, I swear to God, I won't!" she +said, in her low, rich voice--and I saw by her face that she was a +woman of her word. "Besides, he would come raving and imploring--and +I'm not quite a woman of stone. It isn't all jam to go back to my +husband. Goodness knows why I am thinking of it. It's for your sake. +Do you know that?" + +I did not. I was puzzled. Why in the world should Lola Brandt, whom I +have only met three or four times, revolutionise the whole of her life +for my sake? + +"I should have thought it was for Dale's," said I. + +"I suppose you would, being a man," she replied. + +I retorted, with a smile: "Woman is the eternal conundrum to which the +wise man always leaves her herself to supply the answer. Doubtless one +of these days you'll do it. Meanwhile, I'll wait in patience." + +She gave me one of her sidelong, flashing glances and sewed with more +vigour than appeared necessary. I admired the beautiful curves of her +neck and shoulders as she bent over her work. She seemed too strong to +wield such an insignificant weapon as a needle. + +"That's neither here nor there," she said in reference to my last +remark. "I say, I don't look forward to going back to my husband-- +though why I should say 'going back' I don't know, as he left me--not +I him. Anyhow, I'm ready to do it. If it can be managed, I'll cut +myself adrift suddenly from Dale. It will be more merciful to him. A +man can bear a sudden blow better than lingering pain. If it can't be +managed, well, Dale will know nothing at all about it, and both he and +I will be saved a mortal deal of worry and unhappiness." + +"Suppose" said I, "it can't be managed? Do you propose to keep Dale +ignorant of the danger he is running in keeping up a liaison with a +married woman living apart from her husband?" + +She reflected. "If my husband says he'll see me damned first before +he'll come back to me, then I'll tell Dale everything, and you can say +what you like to him. He'll be able to judge for himself; but in the +meanwhile you'll let me have what happiness I can." + +I accepted the compromise, and, dispossessing Adolphus, sat down +again. I certainly had made progress. Feeling in a benevolent mood, I +set forth the advantages she would reap by assuming her legal status; +how at last she would shake the dust of Bohemia from off her feet, and +instead of standing at the threshold like a disconsolate Peri, she +would enter as a right the Paradise of Philistia which she craved; how +her life would be one continual tea-party, and how, as her husband had +doubtless by this time obtained his promotion, she would be authorised +to adopt high and mighty airs in her relations with the wives of all +the captains and lieutenants in the regiment. She sighed and wondered +whether she would like it, after all. + +"Here in England I can say 'damn' as often as I choose. I don't say it +very often, but sometimes I feel I must say it or explode." + +"There are its equivalents in French," I suggested. + +She laughed outright. "Fancy my coming out with a /sacre nom de Dieu/ +in a French drawing-room!" + +"Fancy you shouting 'damn' in an English one." + +"That's true," she said. "I suppose drawing-rooms are the same all the +world over. I do try to talk like a lady--at least, what I imagine +they talk like, for I've never met one." + +"You see one every time you look in the glass," said I. + +Her olive face flushed. "You mustn't say such things to me if you +don't mean them. I like to think all you say to me is true." + +"Why in the world," I cried, "should you not be a lady? You have the +instincts of one. How many of my fair friends in Mayfair and Belgravia +would have made their drawing-rooms unspeakable just for the sake of +not hurting the feelings of Anastasius Papadopoulos?" + +She put aside her work and, leaning over the arm of the chair, her +chin in her hands, looked at me gratefully. + +"I'm so glad you've said that. Dale can't understand it. He wants me +to clear the trash away." + +"Dale," said I, "is young and impetuous. I am a battered old +philosopher with one foot in the grave." + +Quick moisture gathered in her eyes. "You hurt me," she said. "You'll +soon get well and strong again. You must!" + +"/Ce que femme veut, Dieu le veut/," I laughed. + +"/Eh bien, je le veux/," she said with an odd expression in her eyes +which burned golden. They fascinated me, held mine. For some seconds +neither of us moved. Just consider the picture. There among the +cushions of her chair she sprawled beneath the light of a shaded lamp +on the further side, and in front of the leaping flames, a great, +powerful, sinuous creature of sweeping curves, clad in a clinging +brown dress, her head crowned with superb bronze hair, two warm arms +bare to the elbow, at which the sleeve ended in coffee-coloured lace +falling over the side of the chair, and her leopard eyes fixed on me. +About her still hung the echo of her last words spoken in deep tones +whose register belongs less to human habitations than to the jungle. +And from her emanated like a captivating odour--but it was not an +odour--a strange magnetic influence. + +I have done my best to write her down in my mind a commonplace, +vulgar, good-natured mountebank. But I can do so no longer. + +There is something deep down in the soul of Lola Brandt which sets her +apart from the kindly race of womankind; whether it is the devil or a +touch of pre-Adamite splendour or an ancestral catamount, I make no +attempt to determine. At any rate, she is too grand a creature to +fritter her life away on a statistic-hunting and pheasant-shooting +young Briton like Dale Kynnersley. He would never begin to understand +her. I will save her from Dale for her own sake. + +All this, ladies and gentlemen, because her eyes fascinated me, and +caused me to hold my breath, and made my heart beat. + +And will Captain Vauvenarde understand her? Of course he won't. But +then he is her husband, and husbands are notoriously and /cum +privilegio/ dunder-headed. I make no pretensions to understand her, +but as I am neither her lover nor her husband it does not matter. She +says nothing diabolical or eerie or fantastic or feline or pre-Adamite +or uncanny or spiritual; and yet she /is/, in a queer, indescribable +way, all these things. + +"/Je le veux/," she said, and we drank in each other's souls, or gaped +at each other like a pair of idiots just as you please. I had a +horrible, yet pleasurable consciousness that she had gripped hold of +my nerves of volition. She was willing me to live. I was a puppet in +her hands like the wild tom-cat. At that moment I declare I could have +purred and rubbed my head against her knee. I would have done anything +she bade me. If she had sent me to fetch the Cham of Tartary's cap or +a hair of the Prester John's beard, I would have telephoned forthwith +to Rogers to pack a suit-case and book a seat in the Orient express. + +What would have happened next Heaven alone knows--for we could not +have gone on gazing at each other until I backed myself out at the +door by way of leave-taking--had not Anticlimax arrived in the person +of Mr. Anastasius Papadopoulos in his eternal frock-coat. But his +gloves were black. + +As usual he fell on his knees and kissed his lady's hand. Then he rose +and greeted me with solemn affability. + +"/C'est un privilege de rencontrer den gnadigsten Herrn/," said he. + +Confining myself to one language, I responded by informing him that it +was an honour always to meet so renowned a professor, and inquired +politely after the health of Hephaestus. + +"Ah, Signore!" he cried. "Do not ask me. It is a tragedy from which I +shall never recover." + +He sat down on a footstool by the side of Madame Brandt and burst into +tears, which coursed down his cheeks and moustache and hung like drops +of dew from the point of his imperial. + +"Is he dead?" asked Madame. + +"I wish he were! No. It is only the iron self-restraint that I possess +which prevented me from slaying him on the spot. But poor Santa +Bianca! My gentle and accomplished Angora. He has killed her. I can +scarcely raise my head through grief." + +Lola put her great arm round the little man's neck and patted him like +a child, while he sobbed as if his heart would break. + +When he recovered he gave us the details of the tragic end of Santa +Bianca, and wound up by calling down the most ingeniously complicated +and passionate curses on the head of the murderer. Lola Brandt strove +to pacify him. + +"We all have our sorrows, Anastasius. Did I not lose my beautiful +horse Sultan?" + +The professor sprang to his full height of four feet and dashed away +his tears with a noble gesture of his black-gloved hand. + +Base slave that he was to think of his own petty bereavement in the +face of her eternal affliction. He turned to me and bade me mark her +serene nobility. It was a model and an example for him to follow. He, +too, would be brave and present a smiling face to evil fortune. + +"Behold! I smile, carissima!" he cried dramatically. + +We beheld--and saw his features (smudged with tearstains and the dye +from the black gloves which he obviously wore out of respect for the +deceased Santa Bianca) contorted into a grimace of hideous imbecility. + +"Monsieur," said he, assuming his natural expression which was one of +pensive melancholy, "let us change the conversation. You are a great +statesman. Will you kindly let me know your opinion on the foreign +policy of Germany?" + +Whereupon he sat down again upon his stool and regarded me with +earnest attention. + +"Germany," said I, with the solemnity of a Sir Oracle in the smoking- +room of one of the political clubs, "has dreams of an empire beyond +her frontiers, and with a view to converting the dream into a reality, +is turning out battleships nineteen to the dozen." + +The Professor nodded his head sagaciously, and looked up at Lola. + +"Very profound," said he, "very profound. I shall remember it. I am a +Greek, Monsieur, and the Greeks, as you know, are a nation of +diplomatists." + +"Ever since the days of Xenophon," said I. + +"You're both too clever for me," exclaimed our hostess. "Where did you +get your knowledge from, Anastasius?" + +The Professor, flattered, passed his hand over his bulgy forehead. + +"I was a great student in my youth," said he. "Once I could tell you +all the kings of Rome and the date of the battle of Actium. But +pressure of weightier concerns has driven my erudition from me. Pardon +me. I have not yet asked after your health. You are looking sad and +troubled. What is the matter?" + +He sat bolt upright, fingering his imperial and regarding her with the +keen solicitude of a family physician. To my amazement, Lola Brandt +told him quite simply: + +"I am thinking of living with my husband again." + +"Has the traitor been annoying you?" he asked with a touch of +fierceness. + +"Oh, no! It's my own idea. I'm tired of living alone. I don't even +know where he is." + +"Do you want to know where he is?" + +"How can I communicate with him unless I do?" + +Anastasius Papadopoulos rose, struck an attitude, and thumped his +breast. + +"I will seek him for you at the ends of the earth, and will bring him +to prostrate himself at your feet." + +"That's very kind of you, Anastasius," said Lola gently; "but what +will become of your cats?" + +The dwarf raised his hand impressively. + +"The Almighty will have them in His keeping. I have also my pupil and +assistant, Quast." + +Lola smiled indulgently from her cushions, showing her curious even +teeth. + +"You mustn't do anything so mad, Anastasius, I forbid you." + +"Madame," said he in a most stately manner, "when I devote myself, it +is to the death. I have the honour to salute you!"--he bowed over her +hand and kissed it. "Monsieur." He bowed to me with the profundity of +a hidalgo, and trotted magnificently out of the room. + +It was all so sudden that it took my breath away. + +"Well I'm----" I didn't know what I was, so I stopped. Lola Brandt +broke into low laughter at my astonishment. + +"That's Anastasius's way," she explained. + +"But the little man surely isn't going to leave his cats and start on +a wild-goose chase over Europe to find your husband?" + +"He thinks he is, but I shan't let him." + +"I hope you won't," said I. "And will you tell me why you made so hot- +headed a person your confidant?" + +I confess that I was wrathful. Here had I been using the wiles of a +Balkan chancery to bring the lady to my way of thinking, and here was +she, to my face, making a joke of it with this caricature of a +Paladin. + +"My dearest friend," she replied earnestly, "don't be angry with me. +I've given the poor little man something to think of besides the death +of his cat. It will do him good. And why shouldn't I tell him? He's a +dear old friend, and in his way was so good to me when I was unhappy. +He knows all about my married life. You may think he's half-witted; +but he isn't. In ordinary business dealings he's as shrewd as they +make 'em. The manager who beats Anastasius over a contract is yet to +be born." + +By some extraordinary process of the contortionist's art, she curled +herself out of her chair on to the hearthrug and knelt before me, her +hands clasped on my knee. + +"You're not angry with me, are you?" she asked in her rich contralto. + +I took both her hands, rose, and assisted her to rise. I was not going +to be mesmerised again. + +"Of course not," I laughed. Indeed my wrath had fallen from me. + +Her bosom heaved with a sigh. "I'm so glad," she said. Her breath +fanned my cheek. It was aromatic, intoxicating. Her lips are ripe and +full. + +"You had better find your husband as soon as possible," said I. + +"Do you think so?" she asked. + +"Yes, I do. And it strikes me I had better go and find him myself." + +She started. "You?" + +"Yes," I said. "The Chasseurs d'Afrique are probably in Africa, and +the doctors have ordered me to winter in a hot climate, and I shall go +on writing a million letters a day if I stay here, which will kill me +off in no time with brain fag and writer's cramp. Your husband will be +what the newspapers call an objective. Good-bye!" said I, "I'll bring +him to you dead or alive." + +And without knowing it at the time, I made an exit as magnificent as +that of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +I do not know whether I ought to laugh or rail. Judged by the ordinary +canons that regulate the respectable life to which I have been +accustomed, I am little short of a lunatic. The question is: Does the +recognition of lunacy in oneself tend to amusement or anger? I +compromise with myself. I am angry at having been forced on an insane +adventure, but the prospect of its absurdity gives me a considerable +pleasure. + +Let me set it down once and for all. I resent Lola Brandt's existence. +When I am out of her company I can contemplate her calmly from my +vantage of social and intellectual superiority. I can pooh-pooh her +fascinations. I can crack jokes on her shortcomings. I can see +perfectly well that I am Simon de Gex, M.P. (I have not yet been +appointed to the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds), of Eton and +Trinity College, Cambridge, a barrister of the Inner Temple (though a +brief would cause me as much dismay as a command to conduct the +orchestra at Covent Garden), formerly of the Foreign Office, a man of +the world, a diner-out, a hardened jester at feminine wiles, a cynical +student of philosophy, a man of birth, and, I believe, breeding with a +cultivated taste in wine and food and furniture, one also who, but for +a little pain inside, would soon become a Member of His Majesty's +Government, and eventually drop the "Esquire" at the end of his name +and stick "The Right Honourable" in front of it--in fact, a most +superior, wise and important person; and I can also see perfectly well +that Lola Brandt is an uneducated, lowly bred, vagabond female, with a +taste, as I have remarked before, for wild beasts and tea-parties, +with whom I have as much in common as I have with the feathered lady +on a coster's donkey-cart or the Fat Woman at the Fair. I can see all +this perfectly well in the calm seclusion of my library. But when I am +in her presence my superiority, like Bob Acres's valour, oozes out +through my finger-tips; I become a besotted idiot; the sense and the +sight and the sound of her overpower me; I proclaim her rich and +remarkable personality; and I bask in her lazy smiles like any silly +undergraduate whose knowledge of women has hitherto been limited to +his sisters and the common little girl at the tobacconist's. + +I say I resent it. I resent the low notes in her voice. I resent the +cajolery of the supple twists of her body. I resent her putting her +hands on my shoulders, and, as the twopenny-halfpenny poets say, +fanning my cheek with her breath. If it had not been for that I should +never have promised to go in search of her impossible husband. At any +rate, it is easy to discover his whereabouts. A French bookseller has +telegraphed to Paris for the /Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise/, +the French Army List. It locates every officer in the French army, and +as the Chasseurs d'Afrique generally chase in Africa, it will tell me +the station in Algeria or Tunisia which Captain Vauvenarde adorns. I +can go straight to him as Madame Brandt's plenipotentiary, and if the +unreasonable and fire-eating warrior does not run me through the body +for impertinence before he has time to appreciate the delicacy of my +mission, I may be able to convince him that a well-to-do wife is worth +the respectable consideration of a hard-up captain of Chasseurs. I say +I may be able to convince him; but I shrink from the impudence of the +encounter. I am to accost a total stranger in a foreign army and tell +him to return to his wife. This is the pretty little mission I have +undertaken. It sounded glorious and eumoirous and quixotic and +deucedly funny, during the noble moment of inspiration, when Lola's +golden eyes were upon me; but now--well, I shall have to persuade +myself that it is funny, if I am to carry it out. It is very much like +wagering that one will tweak by the nose the first gentleman in +gaiters and shovel-hat one meets in Piccadilly. This by some is +considered the quintessence of comedy. I foresee a revision of my +sense of humour. + +This afternoon I met Lady Kynnersley again--at the Ellertons'. I was +talking to Maisie, who has grown no happier, when I saw her sailing +across to me with questions hoisted in her eyes. Being particularly +desirous not to report progress periodically to Lady Kynnersley, I +made a desperate move. I went forward and greeted her. + +"Lady Kynnersley," said I, "somebody was telling me that you are in +urgent need of funds for something. With my usual wooden-headedness I +have forgotten what it is--but I know it is a deserving organisation." + +The philanthropist, as I hoped, ousted the mother. She exclaimed at +once: + +"It must have been the Cabmen and Omnibus Drivers' Rheumatic +Hospital." + +"That was it!" said I, hearing of the institution for the first time. + +"They are martyrs to rheumatic gout, and of course have no means of +obtaining proper treatment; so we have secured a site at Harrogate and +are building a comfortable place, half hospital, half hotel, where +they can be put up for a shilling a day and have all the benefits of +the waters just as if they were staying at the Hotel Majestic. Do you +want to become a subscriber?" + +"I am eager to," said I. + +"Then come over here and I'll tell you all about it." + +I sat with her in a corner of the room and listened to her fairy-tale. +She wrung my heart to such a pitch of sympathy that I rose and grasped +her by the hand. + +"It is indeed a noble project," I cried. "I love the London cabby as +my brother, and I'll post you a cheque for a thousand pounds this +evening. Good-bye!" + +I left her in a state of joyous stupefaction and made my escape. If it +had not fallen in with my general scheme of good works I should regard +it as an expensive method of avoiding unpleasant questions. + +Another philanthropist, by the way, of quite a different type from +Lady Kynnersley, who has lately benefited by my eleemosynary mania is +Rex Campion. I have known him since our University days and have +maintained a sincere though desultory friendship with him ever since. +He is also a friend of Eleanor Faversham, whom he now and then +inveigles into weird doings in the impossible slums of South Lambeth. +He has tried on many occasions to lure me into his web, but hitherto I +have resisted. Being the possessor of a large fortune, he has been +able to gratify a devouring passion for philanthropy, and has +squandered most of his money on an institution--a kind of club, +school, labour-bureau, dispensary, soup-kitchen, all rolled into one-- +in Lambeth; and there he lives himself, perfectly happy among a +hungry, grubby, scarecrow, tatterdemalion crowd. At a loss for a +defining name, he has called it "Barbara's Building," after his +mother. His conception of the cosmos is that sun, moon and stars +revolve round Barbara's Building. How he learned that I was, so to +speak, standing at street corners and flinging money into the laps of +the poor and needy, I know not. But he came to see me a day or two +ago, full of Barbara's Building, and departed in high feather with a +cheque for a thousand pounds in his pocket. + +I may remark here on the peculiar difficulty there is in playing Monte +Cristo with anything like picturesque grace. Any dull dog that owns a +pen and a banking-account can write out cheques for charitable +institutions. But to accomplish anything personal, imaginative, +adventurous, anything with a touch of distinction, is a less easy +matter. You wake up in the morning with the altruistic yearnings of a +St. Francois de Sales, and yet somehow you go to bed in the evening +with the craving unsatisfied. You have really had so few +opportunities; and when an occasion does arise it is hedged around +with such difficulties as to baffle all but the most persistent. Have +you ever tried to give a beggar a five-pound note? I did this morning. + +She was a miserable, shivering, starving woman of fifty selling +matches in Sackville Street. She held out a shrivelled hand to me, and +eyes that once had been beautiful pleaded hungrily for alms. + +"Here," said I to myself, "is an opportunity of bringing unimagined +gladness for a month or two into this forlorn creature's life." + +I pressed a five-pound note into her hand and passed on. She ran after +me, terror on her face. + +"I daren't take it, sir; they would say I had stolen it, and I should +be locked up. No one would believe a gentleman had given it to me." + +She trembled, overwhelmed by the colossal fortune that might, and yet +might not, be hers. I sympathised, but not having the change in gold, +I could do no more than listen to an incoherent tale of misery, which +did not aid the solution of the problem. It was manifestly impossible +to take back the note; and yet if she retained it she would be +subjected to scandalous indignities. What was to be done? I turned my +eyes towards Piccadilly and beheld a policeman. A page wearing the +name of a milliner's shop on his cap whisked past me. I stopped him +and slipped a shilling into his hand. + +"Will you ask that policeman to come to me?" + +The boy tore down the street and told the policeman and followed him +up to me, eager for amusement. + +"What has the woman been doing, sir?" asked the policeman. + +"Nothing," said I. "I have given her a five-pound note." + +"What for, sir?" he asked. + +"To further my pursuit of the eumoirous," said I, whereat he gaped +stolidly; "but, be that as it may, I have given it her as a free gift, +and she is afraid to present it anywhere lest she should be charged +with theft. Will you kindly accompany her to a shop, where she can +change it, and vouch for her honesty?" + +The policeman, who seemed to form the lowest opinion of my intellect, +said he didn't know a shop on his beat where they could change it. The +boy whistled. The woman held the box of matches in one hand, and in +the other the note, fluttering in the breeze. Idlers paused and looked +on. The policeman grew authoritative and bade them pass along. They +crowded all the more. My position was becoming embarrassing. At last +the boy, remembering the badge of honour on his cap, undertook to +change the note at the hatter's at the corner of the street. So, +having given the note to the boy and bidden the policeman follow him +to see fair play, and encouraged the woman to follow the policeman, I +resumed my walk down Sackville Street. + +But what a pother about a simple act of charity! In order to repeat it +habitually I shall have to rely on the fortuitous attendance of a boy +and a policeman, or have a policeman and a boy permanently attached to +my person, which would be as agreeable as the continuous escort of a +jackdaw and a yak. + + + +Poor Latimer is having a dreadful time. Apparently my ten thousand +pounds have vanished like a snowflake on the river of liabilities. How +he is to repay me he does not know. He wishes he had not yielded to +temptation and had allowed himself to be honestly hammered. Then he +could have taken his family to sing in the streets with a quiet +conscience. + +"My dear fellow," said I through the telephone this morning. "What are +ten thousand pounds to me?" + +I heard him gasp at the other end. + +"But you're not a millionaire!" + +"I am!" I cried triumphantly. And now I come to think of it, I spoke +truly. If a man reckons his capital as half a year's income, doubles +it, and works out the capital that such a yearly income represents, he +is the possessor of a mint of money. + +"I am," I cried; "and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll settle five +thousand on Lucy and the children, so that they needn't accompany you +in your singing excursions. I shouldn't like them to catch cold, poor +dears, and ruin their voices." + +In tones more than telephonically agonised he bade me not make a jest +of his misery. I nearly threw the receiver at the blockhead. + +"I'm not jesting," I bawled; "I'm deadly serious. I knew Lucy before +you did, and I kissed her and she kissed me years before she knew of +your high existence; and if she had been a sensible woman she would +have married me instead of you--what? The first time you've heard of +it? Of course it is--and be decently thankful that you hear it now." + +It is pleasant sometimes to tell the husbands of girls you have loved +exactly what you think of them; and I had loved Lucy Latimer. She +came, an English rose, to console me for the loss of my French /fleur- +de-lis/, Clothilde. Or was it the other way about? One does get so +mixed in these things. At any rate, she did not marry me, her first +love, but jilted me most abominably for Latimer. So I shall heap five +thousand pounds on her head. + +I have been unfortunate in my love affairs. I wonder why? Which +reminds me that I made the identical remark to Lucy Latimer a month or +two ago. (She is a plump, kind, motherly, unromantic little person +now.) She had the audacity to reply that I had never had any. + +"/You/, Lucy Crooks, dare say such a thing!" I exclaimed indignantly. + +She smiled. "Are there many more qualified than I to give the +opinion?" + +I remember that I rose and looked her sternly in the face. + +"Lucy Crooks or Lucy Latimer," said I, "you are nothing more or less +than a common hussy." + +Whereupon she laughed as if I had paid her a high compliment. + +I maintain that I have been unfortunate in my love affairs. First, +there was an angel-faced widow, a contemporary of my mother's, whom I +wooed in Greek verses--and let me tell the young lover that it is much +easier to write your own doggerel and convert it into Greek than to +put "To Althea" into decent Anacreontics. I also took her to the Eton +and Harrow match, and talked to her of women's hats and the things she +loved, and neglected the cricket. But she would have none of me. In +the flood tide of my passion she married a scorbutic archdeacon of the +name of Jugg. Then there was a lady whose name for the life of me I +can't remember. It was something ending in "-ine." We quarrelled +because we held divergent views on Mr. Wilson Barrett. Then there was +Clothilde, whose tragical story I have already unfolded; Lucy Crooks, +who threw me over for this dear, amiable, wooden-headed stockjobbing +Latimer; X, Y and Z--but here, let me remark, I was the hunted--mammas +spread nets for me which by the grace of heaven and the ungraciousness +of the damsels I escaped; and, lastly, my incomparable Eleanor +Faversham. Now, I thought, am I safe in harbour? If ever a match could +have been labelled "Pure heaven-made goods, warranted not to shrink"-- +that was one. But for this rupture there is an all-accounting reason. +For the others there was none. I vow I went on falling in love until I +grew absolutely sick and tired of the condition. You see, the +vocabulary of the pastime is so confoundedly limited. One has to say +to B what one has said to A; to C exactly what one has said to A and +B; and when it comes to repeating to F the formularies one has uttered +to A, B, C, D and E one grows almost hysterical with the boredom of +it. That was the delightful charm of Eleanor Faversham; she demanded +no formularies or re-enactment of raptures. + +The /Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise/ has arrived. It is a +volume of nearly eighteen hundred pages, and being uncut both at top +and bottom and at the side it is peculiarly serviceable as a work of +reference. I attacked it bravely, however, hacking my way into it, +paperknife in hand. But to my dismay, the more I hacked the less could +I find of Captain Vauvenarde. I sought him in the Alphabetical +Repertory of Colonial Troops, in the list of officers /hors cadre/, in +the lists of seniority, in the list of his regiment, wherever he was +likely or unlikely to be. There is no person in the French army by the +name of Vauvenarde. + +I went straight to Lola Brandt with the hideous volume and the +unwelcome news. Together we searched the pages. + +"He /must/ be here," she said, with feminine disregard of fact. + +"Are you quite certain you have got the name right?" I asked. + +"Why, it is my own name!" + +"So it is," said I; "I was forgetting. But how do you know he was in +the army at all?" + +He might have been an adventurer, a Captain of Kopenick of the day, +who had poured a gallant but mendacious tale into her ears. + +"I hardly ever saw him out of uniform. He was quartered at Marseilles +on special duty. I knew some of his brother officers." + +"Then," said I, "there are only two alternatives. Either he has left +the army or he is----" + +"Dead?" she whispered. + +"Let us hope," said I, "that he has left the army." + +"You must find out, Mr. de Gex," she said in a low voice. "I took it +for granted that my husband was alive. It's horrible to think that he +may be dead. It alters everything, somehow. Until I know, I shall be +in a state of awful suspense. You'll make inquiries at once, won't +you?" + +"Did you love your husband, Madame Brandt?" I asked. + +She looked at the fire for some time without replying. She stood with +one foot on the fender. + +"I thought I did when I married him," she said at last. "I thought I +did when he left me." + +"And now?" + +She turned her golden eyes full on me. It is a disconcerting trick of +hers at any time, because her eyes are at once wistful and compelling; +but on this occasion it was startling. They held mine for some +seconds, and I caught in them a glimpse of the hieroglyphic of the +woman's soul. Then she turned her head slowly and looked again into +the fire. + +"Now?" she echoed. "Many things have happened between then and now. If +he is alive and I go to him, I'll try to think again that I love him. +It will be the only way. It will save me from playing hell with my +life." + +"I am glad you see your relations to Dale in that light," said I. + +"I wasn't thinking of Dale," she said calmly. + +"Of what, then, if I may ask without impertinence?" + +She broke into a laugh which ended in a sigh, and then swung her +splendid frame away from the fireplace and walked backwards and +forwards, her figure swaying and her arms flung about in unrestrained +gestures. + +"You are quite right," she said, with an odd note of hardness in her +voice. "You're quite right in what you said the other day--that it was +high time I went back to my husband. I pray God he is not dead. I have +a feeling that he isn't. He can't be. I count on you to find him and +ask him to meet me. It would be better than writing. I don't know what +to say when I have a pen in my hand. You must find him and speak to +him and send me a wire and I'll come straight away to any part of the +earth. Or would you like me to come with you and help you find him? +But no; that's idiotic. Forget that I have said it. I'm a fool. But he +must be found. He must, he must!" + +She paused in her swinging about the room for which I was sorry, as +her panther-in-a-cage movements were exceedingly beautiful, and she +gazed at me with a tragic air, wringing her hands. I was puzzled to +find an adequate reason for this sudden emotional outburst. Hitherto +she had accepted the prospect of a resumption of married life with a +fatalistic calm. Now when the man is either dead or has vanished into +space, she pins all her hopes of happiness on finding him. And why had +her salvation from destruction nothing to do with Dale? There is +obviously another range of emotions at work beneath it all; but what +their nature is baffles me. Although I contemplate with equanimity my +little corner in the Garden of Prosperpine, and with indifference this +common lodging-house of earth, and although I view mundane affairs +with the same fine, calm, philosophic, satirical eye as if I were +already a disembodied spirit, yet I do not like to be baffled. It +makes me angry. But during this interview with Lola Brandt I had not +time to be angry. I am angry now. In fact I am in a condition +bordering on that of a mad dog. If Rogers came and disturbed me now, +as I am writing, I would bite him. But I will set calmly down the +story of this appalling afternoon. + +Lola stood before me wringing her hands. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"I can get an introduction to the /Chef de bureau/ of the information +department of the /Ministere de la Guerre/ in Paris," I replied after +a moment's reflection. "He will be able to tell me whether Captain +Vauvenarde is alive or dead." + +"He is alive. He must be." + +"Very well. But I doubt whether Captain Vauvenarde keeps the office +informed of his movements." + +"But you'll go in search of him, won't you?" + +"The earth is rather a large place," I objected. "He may be in Dieppe, +or he may be on top of Mount Popocatapetl." + +"I'm sure you'll find him," she said encouragingly. + +"You'll own," said I, "that there's something humourous in the idea of +my wandering all over the surface of the planet in search of a lost +captain of Chasseurs. It is true that we might employ a private +detective." + +"Yes!" she cried eagerly. "Why not? Then you could stay here--and I +could go on seeing you till the news came. Let us do that." + +The swiftness of her change of mood surprised me. + +"What is the particular object of your going on seeing me?" I asked, +with a smile. + +She turned away and shrugged her shoulders and took up her pensive +attitude by the fire. + +"I have no other friend," she said. + +"There's Dale." + +"He's not the same." + +"There's Sir Joshua Oldfield." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +I lit a cigarette and sat down. There was a long silence. In some +unaccountable way she had me under her spell again. I felt a perfectly +insane dismay at the prospect of ending this queer intimacy, and I +viewed her intrigue with Dale with profound distaste. Lola had become +a habit. The chair I was sitting in was /my/ chair. Adolphus was /my/ +dog. I hated the idea of Dale making him stand up and do sentry with +the fire shovel, while Lola sprawled gracefully on the hearthrug. On +the other hand the thought of remaining in London and sharing with my +young friend the privilege of her society was intolerable. + +I smoked, and, watching her bosom rise and fall as she leaned forward +with one arm on the mantelpiece, argued it out with myself, and came +to the paradoxical conclusion that I could pack her off without a pang +to Kamtchatka and the embraces of her unknown husband, but could not +hand her over to Dale without feelings of the deepest repugnance. A +pretty position to find myself in. I threw away my cigarette +impatiently. + +Presently she said, not stirring from her pose: + +"I shall miss you terribly if you go. A man like you doesn't come into +the life of a common woman like me without"--she hesitated for a word +--"without making some impression. I can't bear to lose you." + +"I shall be very sorry to give up our pleasant comradeship," said I, +"but even if I stay and send the private inquiry agent instead of +going myself, I shan't be able to go on seeing you in this way." + +"Why not?" + +"It would be scarcely dignified." + +"On account of Dale?" + +"Precisely." + +There was another pause, during which I lit another cigarette. When I +looked up I saw great tears rolling down her cheeks. A weeping woman +always makes me nervous. You never know what she is going to do next. +Safety lies in checking the tears--in administering a tonic. Still, +her wish to retain me was very touching. I rose and stood before her +by the mantelpiece. + +"You can't have your pudding and eat it too," said I. + +"What do you mean?" + +"You can't have Captain Vauvenarde for your husband, Dale for your +/cavaliere servente/, and myself for your guide, philosopher and +friend all at the same time." + +"Which would you advise me to give up?" + +"That's obvious. Give up Dale." + +She uttered a sound midway between a sob and a laugh, and said, as it +seemed, ironically: + +"Would you take his place?" + +Somewhat ironically, too, I replied, "A crock, my dear lady, with one +foot in the grave has no business to put the other into the /Pays du +Tendre/." + +But all the same I had an absurd desire to take her at her word, not +for the sake of constituting myself her /amant en titre/, but so as to +dispossess the poor boy who was clamouring wildly for her among his +mother's snuffy colleagues in Berlin. + +"That's another reason why I shrink from your going in search of my +husband," she said, dabbing her eyes. "Your ill-health." + +"I shall have to go abroad out of this dreadful climate in any case. +Doctor's orders. And I might just as well travel about with an object +in view as idle in Monte Carlo or Egypt." + +"But you might die!" she cried; and her tone touched my heart. + +"I've got to," I said, as gently as I could; and the moment the words +passed my lips I regretted them. + +She turned a terrified look on me and seized me by the arms. + +"Is it as bad as that? Why haven't you told me?" + +I lifted my arms to her shoulders and shook my head and smiled into +her eyes. They seemed true, honest eyes, with a world of pain behind +them. If I had not regarded myself as the gentleman in the Greek +Tragedy walking straight to my certain doom, and therefore holding +myself aloof from such vain things, I should have yielded to the +temptation and kissed her there and then. And then goodness knows what +would have happened. + +As it was it was bad enough. For, as we stood holding on to each +other's shoulders in a ridiculous and compromising attitude, the door +opened and Dale Kynnersley burst, unannounced, into the room. He +paused on the threshold and gaped at us, open-mouthed. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +We sprang apart, for all the world like a guilty pair surprised. +Luckily the room was in its normal dim state of illumination, so that +to one suddenly entering, the expression on our faces was not clearly +visible; on the other hand, the subdued light gave a romantic setting +to the abominable situation. + +Lola saved it, however. She rushed to Dale. + +"Do you know what Mr. de Gex was just telling me? His illness--it is +worse than any one thought. It's incurable. He can't live long; he +must die soon. It's dreadful--dreadful! Did you know it?" + +Dale looked from her to me, and after a slight pause, came forward. + +"Is this true, Simon?" + +A plague on the woman for catching me in the trap! Before Dale came in +I was on the point of putting an airy construction on my indiscreet +speech. I had no desire to discuss my longevity with any one. I want +to keep my miserable secret to myself. It was exasperating to have to +entrust it even to Dale. And yet, if I repudiated her implied +explanation of our apparent embrace it would have put her hopelessly +in the wrong. I had to support her. + +"It's what the doctors say," I replied, "but whether it's true or not +is another matter." + +Again he looked queerly from me to Lola and from Lola back to me. His +first impression of our attitude had been a shock from which he found +it difficult to recover. I smiled, and, although perfectly innocent, +felt a villain. + +"Madame Brandt is good enough to be soft-hearted and to take a tragic +view of a most commonplace contingency." + +"But it isn't commonplace. By God, it's horrible!" cried the boy, the +arrested love for me suddenly gushing into his heart. "I had no idea +of it. In Heaven's name, Simon, why didn't you tell me? My dear old +Simon." + +Tears rushed into his eyes and he gripped my hand until I winced. I +put my other hand on his shoulder and laughed with a contorted visage. + +"My good Dale, the moribund are fragile." + +"Oh, Lord, man, how can you make a jest of it?" + +"Would you have me drive about in a hearse, instead of a cab, by way +of preparation?" + +"But what have the doctors told you?" asked Lola. + +"My two dear people!" I cried, "for goodness' sake don't fall over me +in this way. I'm not going to die to-morrow unless my cook poisons me +or I'm struck by lightning. I'm going to live for a deuce of a time +yet. A couple of weeks at least. And you'll very much oblige me by not +whispering a word abroad about what you've heard this afternoon. It +would cause me infinite annoyance. And meanwhile I suggest to you, +Dale, as the lawyers say, that you have been impolite enough not to +say how-do-you-do to your hostess." + +He turned to her rather sheepishly, and apologised. My news had bowled +him over, he declared. He shook hands with her, laughed and walked +Adolphus about on his hind legs. + +"But where have you dropped from?" she asked. + +"Berlin. I came straight through. Didn't you get my wire?" + +"No." + +"I sent one." + +"I never got it." + +He swung his arms about in a fine rage. + +"If ever I get hold of that son of Satan I'll murder him. He was +covered up to his beastly eyebrows in silver lace and swords and +whistles and medals and things. He walked up and down the railway +station as if he owned the German navy and ran trains as a genteel +hobby. I gave him ten marks to send the telegram. The miserable beast +has sneaked the lot. I'll get at the railway company through the +Embassy and have the brute sacked and put in prison. Did you ever hear +of such a skunk?" + +"He must have thought you a very simple and charming young +Englishman," said I. + +"You've done the same thing yourself!" he retorted indignantly. + +"Pardon me," said I. "If I do send a telegram in that loose way, I +choose a humble and honest-looking porter and give him the exact fee +for the telegram and a winning smile." + +"Rot!" said Dale, and turning to Lola--"He has demoralised the whole +railway system of Europe with his tips. I've seen him give a franc to +the black greasy devil that bangs at the carriage wheels with a bit of +iron. He would give anybody anything." + +He had recovered his boyish pride in my ridiculous idiosyncracies, and +was in process of illustrating again to Lola what a "splendid chap" I +was. Poor lad! If he only knew what a treacherous, traitorous, +Machiavelli of a hero he had got. For the moment I suffered from a +nasty crick in the conscience. + +"Wouldn't he, Adolphus, you celestial old blackguard?" he laughed. +Then suddenly: "My hat! You two are fond of darkness! It gives me the +creeps. Do you mind, Lola, if I turn on the light?" + +He marched in his young way across to the switches and set the room in +the blaze he loved. My crick of the conscience was followed by an +impulse of resentment. He took it for granted that his will was law in +the house. He swaggered around the room with a proprietary air. He +threw in the casual "Lola" as if he owned her. Dale is the most +delightful specimen of the modern youth of my acquaintance. But even +Dale, with all his frank charm of manner, has the modern youth's +offhand way with women. I often wonder how women abide it. But they +do, more shame to them, and suffer more than they realise by their +indulgence. When next I meet Maisie Ellerton I will read her a +wholesome lecture, for her soul's good, on the proper treatment a +self-respecting female should apply to the modern young man. + +Dale filled the room with his clear young laugh, and turned on every +light in the place. Lola and I exchanged glances--she had adopted her +usual lazy pantherine attitude in the armchair--and her glance was not +that of a happy woman to whom a longed-for lover had unexpectedly +come. Its real significance I could not divine, but it was more +wistful than merely that of a fellow-conspirator. + +"By George!" cried Dale, pulling up a chair by Lola's side, and +stretching out his long, well-trousered legs in front of the fire. +"It's good to come back to civilisation and a Christian language and a +fireside--and other things," he added, squeezing Lola's hand. "If only +it had not been for this horrible news about you, dear old man----" + +"Oh, do forget it and give me a little peace!" I cried. "Why have you +come back all of a sudden?" + +"The Wymington people wired for me. It seems the committee are divided +between me and Sir Gerald Macnaughton." + +"He has strong claims," said I. "He has been Mayor of the place and +got knighted by mistake. He also gives large dinners and wears a +beautiful diamond pin." + +"I believe he goes to bed in it. Oh, he's an awful ass! It was he who +said at a public function 'The Mayor of Wymington must be like +Caesar's wife--all things to all men!' Oh, he's a colossal ass! And +his conceit! My word!" + +"You needn't expatiate on it," said I. "I who speak have suffered much +at the hands of Sir Gerald Macnaughton." + +"If he did get into Parliament he'd expect an armchair to be put for +him next to the Speaker. Really, Lola, you never saw such a chap. If +there was any one else up against me I wouldn't mind. Anyway, I'm +running down to Wymington to-morrow to interview the committee. And if +they choose me, then it'll be a case of 'Lord don't help me and don't +help the b'ar, and you'll see the derndest best b'ar fight that ever +was.' I'll make things hum in Wymington!" + +He went on eagerly to explain how he would make things hum. For the +moment he had forgotten his enchantress who, understanding nothing of +platforms and planks and electioneering machinery, smiled with pensive +politeness at the fire. Here was the Dale that I knew and loved, +boyish, impetuous, slangy, enthusiastic. His dark eyes flashed, and he +threw back his head and laughed, as he enunciated his brilliant ideas +for capturing the constituency. + +"When I was working for you, I made love to half the women in the +place. You never knew that, you dear old stick. Now I'm going in on my +own account I'll make love to the whole crowd. You won't mind, Lola, +will you? There's safety in numbers. And when I have made love to them +one by one I'll get 'em all together and make love to the conglomerate +mass! And then I'll rake up all the prettiest women in London and get +'em down there to humbug the men--" + +"Lady Kynnersley will doubtless be there," said I; "and I don't quite +see her--" + +He broke in with a laugh: "Oh! the mater! I'll fix up her job all +right. She'll just love it, won't she? And then I know a lot of silly +asses with motor-cars who'll come down. They can't talk for cob-nuts, +and think the Local Option has something to do with vivisection, and +have a vague idea that champagne will be cheaper if we get Tariff +Reform--but they'll make a devil of a noise at meetings and tote +people round the country in their cars holding banners with 'Vote for +Kynnersley' on them. That's a sound idea, isn't it?" + +I gravely commended the statesmanlike sagacity of his plan of +campaign, and promised to write as soon as I got home to one or two +members of the committee whom I suspected of pro-Macnaughton leanings. + +"I do hope they'll adopt you!" I cried fervently. + +"So do I," murmured Lola in her low notes. + +"If they don't," said Dale, "I'll ask Raggles to give me an unpaid +billet somewhere. But," he added, with a sigh, "that will be an awful +rotten game in comparison." + +"I'm afraid you won't make Raggles hum," said I. + +He laughed, rose and straddled across the hearthrug, his back to the +fire. + +"He'd throw me out if I tried, wouldn't he? But if they do adopt me--I +swear I'll make you proud of me, Simon. I'll stick my soul into it. +It's the least I can do in this horrid cuckoo sort of proceeding, and +I feel I shall be fighting for you as well as for myself. My dear old +chap, you know what I mean, don't you?" + +I knew, and was touched. I wished him God-speed with all my heart. He +was a clean, honest, generous gentleman, and I admired, loved and +respected him as he stood there full of his youth and hope. I suddenly +felt quite old and withered at the root of my being, like some +decrepit king who hands his crown to the young prince. I rose to take +my leave (for what advantage was there in staying?) and felt that I +was abandoning to Dale other things beside my crown. + +Lola's strong, boneless hand closed round mine in a more enveloping +grip than ever. She looked at me appealingly. + +"Shall I see you again before you go?" + +"Before you go?" cried Dale. "Where are you off to?" + +"Somewhere south, out of the fogs." + +"When?" + +"At once," said I. + +He turned to our hostess. "We can't let him go like that. I wonder if +you could fix up a little dinner here, Lola, for the three of us. It +would be ripping, so cosy, you know." + +He glowed with the preposterous inspiration. Lola began politely: + +"Of course, if Mr. de Gex----" + +"It would be delightful," said I, "but I'm starting at once--to-morrow +or the day after. We will have the dinner when I come back and you are +a full-blown Member of Parliament." + +I made my escape and fled to my own cheerful library. It is oak- +panelled and furnished with old oak, and the mezzo-tints on the walls +are mellow. Of the latter, I have a good collection, among them a +Prince Rupert of which I am proud. I threw myself, a tired man, into +an armchair by the fire, and rang the bell for a brandy and soda. Oh, +the comfort of the rooms, the comfort of Rogers, the comfort of the +familiar backs of the books in the shelves! I felt loth to leave it +all and go vagabonding about the cold world on my lunatic adventure. +For the first time in my life I cursed Marcus Aurelius. I shook my +fist at him as he stood on the shelf within easy reach of my hand. It +was he who had put into my head this confounded notion of achieving +eumoiriety. Am I dealing to myself, I asked, a happy lot and portion? +Certainly not, I replied, and when Rogers brought me my brandy and +soda I drank it off desperately. After that I grew better, and drew up +a merry little Commination Service. + +A plague on the little pain inside. + +A plague on Lady Kynnersley for weeping me into my rash undertaking. + +A plague on Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos for aiding and abetting +Lady Kynnersley. + +A plague on Captain Vauvenarde for running away from his wife; for +giving up the army; for not letting me know whether he is alive or +dead; for being, I'll warrant him, in the most uncomfortable and +ungetatable spot on the globe. + +A plague on Dale for becoming infatuated with Lola Brandt. A plague on +him for beguiling me to her acquaintance; for bursting into the room +at that unfortunate moment; for his generous, unsuspecting love for +me; for his youth and hope and charm; for asking me to dine with Lola +and himself in ripping cosiness. + +A plague on myself--just to show that I am broad-minded. + +And lastly, a plague, a special plague, a veritable murrain on Lola +Brandt for complicating the splendid singleness of my purpose. I don't +know what to think of myself. I have become a common conundrum--which +provides the lowest form of intellectual amusement. It is all her +fault. + +Listen. I set out to free a young man of brilliant promise, at his +mother's earnest entreaty, from an entanglement with an impossible +lady, and to bring him to the feet of the most charming girl in the +world who is dying of love for him. Could intentions be simpler or +more honourable or more praiseworthy? + +I find myself, after two or three weeks, the lady's warm personal +friend, to a certain extent her champion bound by a quixotic oath to +restore her husband to her arms, and regarding my poor Dale with a +feeling which is neither more nor less than green-eyed jealousy. I am +praying heaven to grant his adoption by the Wymington committee, not +because it will be the first step of the ladder of his career, but +because the work and excitement of a Parliamentary election will +prohibit overmuch lounging in /my/ chair in Lola Brandt's drawing- +room. + +Is there any drug I wonder which can restore a eumoirous tone to the +system? + +Of course, Dale came round to my chambers in the evening and talked +about Lola and himself and me until I sent him home to bed. He kept on +repeating at intervals that I was glorious. I grew tired at last of +the eulogy, and, adopting his vernacular, declared that I should be +jolly glad to get out of this rubbishy world. He protested. There was +never such a world. It was gorgeous. What was wrong with it, anyway? +As I could not show him the Commination Service, I picked imaginary +flaws in the universe. I complained of its amateurishness of design. +But Dale, who loves fact, was not drawn into a theological +disputation. + +"Do you know, I had a deuce of a shock when I came into Lola's this +afternoon?" he cried irrelevantly, with a loud laugh. "I thought--it +was a damnable and idiotic thing to come into my head--but I couldn't +help thinking you had cut me out! I wanted to tell you. You must +forgive me for being such an ass. And I want to thank you for being so +good to her while I was away. She has been telling me. You like her, +don't you? I knew you would. No one can help it. Besides being other +things, she's is such a good sort, isn't she?" + +I admitted her many excellencies, while he walked about the room. + +"By Jove!" he cried, coming to a halt. "I've got a grand idea. My +little plan has succeeded so well with you that I've a good mind to +try it on my mother." + +"What on earth do you mean?" I asked. + +"Why shouldn't I take the bull by the horns and bring my mother and +Lola together?" + +I gasped. "My dear boy," said I. "Do you want to kill me outright? I +can't stand such shocks to the imagination." + +"But it would be grand!" he exclaimed, delighted. "Why shouldn't +mother take a fancy to Lola? You can imagine her roping her in for the +committee!" + +I refused to imagine it for one instant, and I had the greatest +difficulty in the world to persuade him to renounce his maniacal +project. I am going to permit no further complications. + + + +I have been busy for the past day or two setting my house in order. I +start to-morrow for Paris. All my little affairs are comfortably +settled, and I can set out on my little trip to Avernus via Paris and +the habitat of Captain Vauvenarde with a quiet conscience. I have +allayed the anxiety of my sisters, whispered mysterious encouragement +to Maisie Ellerton, held out hopes of her son's emancipation to Lady +Kynnersley, played fairy godmother to various poor and deserving +persons, and brought myself into an enviable condition of glowing +philanthropy. + +To my great relief the Wymington committee have adopted Dale as their +candidate at the by-election. He can scarcely contain himself for joy. +He is like a child who has been told that he shall be taken to the +seaside. I believe he lies awake all night thinking how he will make +things hum. + +The other side have chosen Wilberforce, who unsuccessfully contested +the Ferney division of Wiltshire at the last general election. He is +old and ugly. Dale is young and beautiful. I think Dale will get in. + +I have said good-bye to Lola. The astonishing woman burst into tears +and kissed my hands and said something about my being the arbiter of +her destiny--a Gallic phrase which she must have picked up from +Captain Vauvenarde. Then she buried her face in the bristling neck of +Adolphus, the Chow dog, and declared him to be her last remaining +consolation. Even Anastasius Papadopoulos had ceased to visit her. I +uttered words of comfort. + +"I have left you Dale at any rate." + +She smiled enigmatically through her tears. + +"I'm not ungrateful. I don't despise the crumbs." + +Which remark, now that I come to think of it, was not flattering to my +young friend. + +But what is the use of thinking of it? My fire is burning low. It is +time I ended this portion of my "Rule and Example of Eumoiriety," +which, I fear, has not followed the philosophic line I originally +intended. + +The die is cast. My things are packed. Rogers, who likes his British +beef and comforts, is resigned to the prospect of Continental travel, +and has gone to bed hours ago. There is no more soda water in the +siphon. I must go to bed. + +Paris to-morrow. + + + +CHAPTER X + +"Ay!" says Touchstone; "now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was +at home I was in a better place." + +Now am I in Algiers; the more fool I; et cetera, et cetera. + +It is true that from my bedroom window in the Albany I cannot see the +moon silvering the Mediterranean, or hear the soft swish of pepper- +trees; it is true that oranges and eucalyptus do not flourish in the +Albany Court-yard as they do in this hotel garden at Mustapha +Superieur; it is true that the blue African sky and sunshine are more +agreeable than Piccadilly fogs; but, after all, his own kennel is best +for a dying dog, and his own familiar surroundings best for his +declining hours. Again, Touchstone had not the faintest idea what he +was going to do in the Forest of Arden, and I was equally ignorant of +what would befall when I landed at Algiers. He was bound on a fool +adventure, and so was I. He preferred the easy way of home, and so do +I. I have always loved Touchstone, but I have never thoroughly +understood him till now. + +It rained persistently in Paris. It rained as I drove from the Gare du +Nord to my hotel. It rained all night. It rained all the day I spent +there and it rained as I drove from my hotel to the Gare de Lyon. A +cheery newspaper informed me that there were torrential rains at +Marseilles. I mentioned this to Rogers, who tried to console me by +reminding me that we were only staying at Marseilles for a few hours. + +"That has nothing to do with it," said I. "At Marseilles I always eat +bouillabaisse on the quay. Fancy eating bouillabaisse in the pouring +rain!" + +As usual, Rogers could not execute the imaginative exercise I +prescribed; so he strapped my hold-all with an extra jerk. + +Now, when homespun London is wet and muddy, no one minds very much. +But when silken Paris lies bedraggled with rain and mud, she is the +forlornest thing under the sky. She is a hollow-eyed pale city, the +rouge is washed from her cheeks, her hair hangs dank and dishevelled, +in her aspect is desolation, and moaning is in her voice. I have a +Sultanesque feeling with regard to Paris. So long as she is amusing +and gay I love her. I adore her mirth, her chatter, her charming ways. +But when she has the toothache and snivels, she bores me to death. I +lose all interest in her. I want to clap my hands for my slaves, in +order to bid them bring me in something less dismal in the way of fair +cities. + +I drove to the Rue Saint-Dominique and handed in my card and letter of +introduction at the /Ministere de la Guerre/. I was received by the +official in charge of the /Bureau des Renseignements/ with bland +politeness tempered with suspicion that I might be taking a mental +photograph of the office furniture in order to betray its secret to a +foreign government. After many comings and goings of orderlies and +underlings, he told me very little in complicated and reluctant +language. Captain Vauvenarde had resigned his commission in the +Chasseurs d'Afrique two years ago. At the present moment the Bureau +had no information to give as to his domicile. + +"Have you no suggestion, Monsieur, to offer?" I asked, "whereby I may +obtain this essential information concerning Captain Vauvenarde?" + +"His old comrades in the regiment might know, Monsieur." + +"And the regiment?" + +He opened the /Annuaire Officiel de l'Armee Francaise/, just as I +might have done myself, and said: + +"There are six regiments. One is at Blidah, another at Tlemcen, +another at Constantine, another at Tunis, another at Algiers, and +another at Mascara." + +"To which regiment, then, did Captain Vauvenarde belong?" I inquired. + +He referred to one of the dossiers that the orderlies had brought him. + +"The 3rd, Monsieur." + +"I should get information, then, from Tlemcen?" + +"Evidently, Monsieur." + +I thanked him and withdrew, to his obvious relief. Seekers after +knowledge are unpopular even in organisations so far removed from the +Circumlocution Office as the French /Ministere de la Guerre/. However, +he had put me on the trail of my man. + +During my homeward drive through the rain I reflected. I might, of +course, write to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment at +Tlemcen, and wait for his reply. But even if he answered by return of +post, I should have to remain in Paris for nearly a week. + +"That," said I, wiping from my face half a teacupful of liquid mud +which had squirted in through the cab window--"that I'll never do. +I'll proceed at once to Algiers. If I can get no news of him there, +I'll go to Tlemcen myself. In all probability I shall learn that he is +residing here in Paris, a stone's throw from the Madeleine." + +So I started for Algiers. The next morning, before the sailing of the +/Marechal Bugeaud/, one of the quaint churns styled a steamship by the +vanity of the French Company which undertakes to convey respectable +folk across the Mediterranean, I ate my bouillabaisse below an awning +on the sunny quay at Marseilles. The torrential rains had ceased. I +advised Rogers to take equivalent sustenance, as no lunch is provided +on day of sailing by the Compagnie Generale Transatlantique. I caught +sight of him in a dark corner of the restaurant--he is too British to +eat in the open air on the terrace, or perhaps too modest to have his +meal in my presence--struggling grimly with a beefsteak, and, as he is +a teetotaller, with an unimaginable, horrific liquid which he poured +out from a vessel vaguely resembling a teapot. + +My meal over, and having nearly an hour to spare, I paid my bill, rose +and turned the corner of the quay into the Cannebiere, thinking to +have my coffee at one of the cafes in that thoroughfare of which the +natives say that, if Paris had a Cannebiere, it would be a little +Marseilles. I suppose for the Marseillais there is a magic in the +sonorous name; for, after all, it is but a commonplace street of shops +running from the quays into the heart of the town. It is also deformed +by tramcars. I strolled leisurely up, thinking of the many swans that +were geese, and Paradises that were building-plots, and heroes that +were dummies, and solidities that were shadows, in short, enjoying a +gentle post-prandial mood, when my eyes suddenly fell on a scene which +brought me down from such realities to the realm of the fantastic. +There, a few yards in front of me, at the outer edge of the terrace of +a cafe, clad in his eternal silk hat, frock coat, and yellow gloves, +sat Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos in earnest conversation with a +seedy stranger of repellent mien. The latter was clean-shaven and had +a broken nose, and wore a little round, soft felt hat. The dwarf was +facing me. As he caught sight of me a smile of welcome overspread his +Napoleonic features. He rose, awaited my approach, and, bareheaded, +made his usual sweeping bow, which he concluded by resting his silk +hat on the pit of his stomach. I lifted my hat politely and would have +passed on, but he stood in my path. I extended my hand. He took it +after the manner of a provincial mayor receiving royalty. + +"/Couvrez-vous, Monsieur, je vous en prie/," said I. + +He covered his head. "Monsieur," said he, "I beseech you to be seated, +and do me the honour of joining me in the coffee and excellent cognac +of this establishment." + +"Willingly," said I, mindful of Lola's tale of the long knife which he +carried concealed about his person. + +"Permit me to present my friend Monsieur Achille Saupiquet--Monsieur +de Gex, a great English statesman and a friend of that /gnadigsten +Engel/, Madame Lola Brandt." + +Monsieur Saupiquet and I saluted each other formally. I took a seat. +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos moved a bundle of papers tied up +with pink ribbon from in front of me, and ordered coffee and cognac. + +"Monsieur Saupiquet also knows Madame Brandt," he explained. + +"/Bien sur/," said Monsieur Saupiquet. "She owes me fifteen sous." + +Papadopoulos turned on his sharply. "Will you be silent!" + +The other grumbled beneath his breath. + +"I hope Madame is well," said Papadopoulos. + +I said that she appeared so, when last I had the pleasure of seeing +her. The dwarf turned to his friend. + +"Monsieur has also done my cats the honour of attending a rehearsal. +He has seen Hephaestus, and his tears have dropped in sympathy over +the irreparable loss of my beautiful Santa Bianca." + +"I hope the talented survivors," said I, "are enjoying their usual +health." + +"My daily bulletin from my pupil and assistant, Quast, contains +excellent reports. /Prosit/, Signore." + +It was only when I found myself at the table with the dwarf and his +broken-nosed friend that I collected my wits sufficiently to realise +the probable reason of his presence in Marseilles. The grotesque +little creature had actually kept his ridiculous word. He, too, had +come south in search of the lost Captain Vauvenarde. We were +companions in the Fool Adventure. There was something mediaeval in the +combination; something legendary. Put back the clock a few centuries +and there we were, the Knight and the Dwarf, riding together on our +quest, while the Lady for whose sake we were making idiots of +ourselves was twiddling her fair thumbs in her tower far beyond the +seas. + +Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos broke upon this pleasing fancy by +remarking again that Monsieur Saupiquet was a friend of Madame Brandt. + +"He was with her at the time of her great bereavement." + +"Bereavement?" I asked forgetfully. + +"Her horse Sultan." + +He whispered the words with solemn reverence. I must confess to being +tired of the horse Sultan and disinclined to treat his loss seriously. + +"Monsieur Saupiquet," said I, "doubtless offered her every +consolation." + +"He used to travel with her and look after Sultan's well-being. He was +her----" + +"Her Master of the Horse," I suggested. + +"Precisely. You have the power of using the right word, Monsieur de +Gex. It is a great gift. My good friend Saupiquet is attached to a +circus at present stationed in Toulon. He came over, at my request, to +see me--on affairs of the deepest importance"--he waved the bundle of +papers--"the very deepest importance. /Nicht wahr/, Saupiquet?" + +"/Bien sur/," murmured Saupiquet, who evidently did not count +loquacity among his vices. + +I wondered whether these important affairs concerned the whereabouts +of Captain Vauvenarde; but the dwarf's air of mystery forbade my +asking for his confidence. Besides, what should a groom in a circus +know of retired Captains of Chasseurs? I said: + +"You're a very busy man, Monsieur le Professeur." + +He tapped his domelike forehead. "I am never idle. I carry on here +gigantic combinations. I should have been a lawyer. I can spread nets +that no one sees, and then--pst! I draw the rope and the victim is in +the toils of Anastasius Papadopoulos. /Hast du nicht das bemerkt/, +Saupiquet?" + +"/Bien sur/," said Saupiquet again. He seemed perfectly conversant +with the dwarf's polyglot jargon. + +"To the temperament of the artist," continued the modest Papadopoulos, +"I join the intellect of the man of affairs and the heart of a young +poet. I am always young; yet as you see me here I am thirty-seven +years of age." + +He jumped from his chair and struck an attitude of the Apollo +Belvedere. + +"I should never have thought that you were of the same age as a +bettered person like myself," said I. + +"The secret of youth," he rejoined, sitting down again, "is +enthusiasm, the worship of a woman, and intimate association with +cats." + +Monsieur Saupiquet received this proposition without a gleam of +interest manifesting itself in his dull blue eyes. His broken nose +gave his face a singularly unintelligent expression. He poured out +another glass of cognac from the graduated carafe in front of him and +sipped it slowly. Then he gazed at me dully, almost for the first +time, and said: + +"Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous." + +"And I say that she doesn't!" cried the dwarf fiercely. "I send for +him to discuss matters of the deepest gravity, and he comes talking +about his fifteen sous. I can't get anything out of him, but his +fifteen sous. And the /carissima signora/ doesn't owe it to him. She +can't owe it to him. /Voyons/, Saupiquet, if you don't renounce your +miserable pretensions you will drive me mad, you will make me burst +into tears, you will make me throw you out into the street, and hold +you down until you are run over by a tramcar. You will--you will"--he +shook his fist passionately as he sought for a climactic menace--"you +will make me spit in your eye." + +He dashed his fist down on the marble table so that the glasses +jingled. Saupiquet finished his cognac undisturbed. + +"I say that Madame Brandt owes me fifteen sous, and until that is +paid, I do no business." + +The little man grew white with exasperation, and his upper lip lifted +like an angry cat's, showing his teeth. I shrank from meeting +Saupiquet's eye. Hurriedly, I drew a providential handful of coppers +from my pocket. + +"Stop, Herr Professor," said I, eager to prevent the shedding of +tears, blood, or saliva, "I have just remembered. Madame did mention +to me an unaquitted debt in the South, and begged me to settle it for +her. I am delighted to have the opportunity. Will you permit me to act +as Madam's banker?" + +The dwarf at once grew suave and courteous. + +"The word of /carissima signora/ is the word of God," said he. + +I solemnly counted out the fifteen halfpence on the table and pushed +them over to Saupiquet, who swept them up and put them in his pocket. + +"Now we can talk," said he. + +"Make him give you a receipt!" cried Papadopoulos excitedly. "I know +him! He is capable of any treachery where money is concerned. He is +capable of re-demanding the sum from Madame Brandt. He is an ingrate. +And she, Monsieur le Membre du Parlement Anglais, has overwhelmed him +with benefits. Do you know what she did? She gave him the carcass of +her beloved Sultan to dispose of. And he sold it, Monsieur, and he got +drunk on the money." + +The mingled emotions of sorrow at the demise of Sultan, the royal +generosity of Madame Brandt, and the turpitude of his friend +Saupiquet, brought tears to the little man's eyes. Monsieur Saupiquet +shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly. + +"A poor man has to get drunk when he can. It is only the rich who can +get drunk when they like." + +I looked at my watch and rose in a hurry. + +"I'm afraid I must take an unceremonious leave of you, Monsieur le +Professeur." + +"You must wait for the receipt," cried the dwarf. + +"Will you do me the honour of holding it for me until we meet again? +Hi!" The interpellation was addressed to a cabman a few yards away. +"Your conversation has made me neglect the flight of time. I shall +only just catch my boat." + +"Your boat?" + +"I am going to Algiers." + +"Where will you be staying, Monsieur? I ask in no spirit of vulgar +curiosity." + +I raised a protesting hand, and with a smile named my hotel. + +"I arrived here from Algiers yesterday afternoon," he said, "and I +proceed there again to-morrow." + +"I regret," said I, "that you are not coming to-day, so that I could +have the pleasure of your company on the voyage." + +My polite formula seemed to delight Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos +enormously. He made a series of the most complicated bows, to the joy +of the waiters and the passers-by. I shook hands with him and with the +stolid Monsieur Saupiquet, and waving my hat more like an excited +Montenegrin than the most respectable of British valetudinarians, I +drove off to the Quai de la Joliette, where I found an anxious but +dogged Rogers, in the midst of a vociferating crowd, literally holding +the bridge that gave access to the /Marechal Bugeaud/. + +"Thank Heaven, you've come, sir! You almost missed it. I couldn't have +held out another minute." + +I, too, was thankful. If I had missed the boat I should have had to +wait till the next day and crossed in the embarrassing and unrestful +company of Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos. It is not that I dislike +the little man, or have the Briton's nervous shrinking from being seen +in eccentric society; but I wish to eliminate mediaevalism as far as +possible from my quest. In conjunction with this crazy-headed little +trainer of cats it would become too preposterous even for my light +sardonic humour. I resolved to dismiss him from my mind altogether. + +Yet, in spite of my determination, and in spite of one of Monsieur +Lenotre's fascinating monographs on the French Revolution, on which I +had counted to beguile the tedium of the journey, I could not get +Anastasius Papadopoulos out of my head. He stayed with me the whole of +a storm-tossed night, and all the next morning. He has haunted my +brain ever since. I see him tossing his arms about in fury, while the +broken-nosed Saupiquet makes his monotonous claim for the payment of +sevenpence halfpenny; I hear him speak in broken whispers of the +disastrous quadruped on whose skin and hoofs Saupiquet got drunk. I +see him strutting about and boasting of his intellect. I see him +taking leave of Lola Brandt, and trotting magnificently out of the +room bent on finding Captain Vauvenarde. He haunts my slumbers. I hope +to goodness he will not take to haunting this delectable hotel. + +I wonder, after all, whether there is any method in his madness--for +mad he is, as mad as can be. Why does he come backwards and forwards +between Algiers and Marseilles? What has Saupiquet to do with his +quest? What revelation was he about to make on the payment of his +fifteen sous? It is all so grotesque, so out of relation with ordinary +life. I feel inclined to go up to the retired Colonels and elderly +maiden ladies, who seem to form the majority of my fellow-guests, and +pinch them and ask them whether they are real, or, like Papadopoulos +and Saupiquet, the gentler creatures of a nightmare. + +Well, I have written to the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 3rd Regiment of +Chasseurs at Tlemcen, which is away down by the Morocco frontier. I +have also written to Lola Brandt. I seem to miss her as much as any of +the friends I have left behind me in England. I cannot help the absurd +fancy that her rich vitality helps me along. I have not been feeling +quite so robust as I did when I saw her daily. And twinges are coming +more frequently. I don't think that rolling about in the Mediterranean +on board the /Marechal Bugeaud/ is good for little pains inside. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +When I began this autobiographical sketch of the last few weeks of my +existence, I had conceived, as I have already said, the notion of +making it chiefly a guide to conduct for my young disciple, Dale +Kynnersley. Not only was it to explain to him clearly the motives +which led to my taking any particular line of action with regard to +his affairs, and so enable me to escape whatever blame he might, +through misunderstanding, be disposed to cast on me, but also to +elevate his mind, stimulate his ambitions, and improve his morals. It +was to be a Manual of Eumoiriety. It was to be sweetened with +philosophic reflections and adorned with allusions to the lives of the +great masters of their destiny who have passed away. It was to have +been a pretty little work after the manner of Montaigne, with the +exception that it ran of its own accord into narrative form. But I am +afraid Lola Brandt has interposed herself between me and my design. +She had brought me down from the serene philosophic plane where I +could think and observe human happenings and analyse them and present +them in their true aspect to my young friend. She has set me down in +the thick of events--and not events such as the smiling philosopher is +in the habit of dealing with, but lunatic, fantastic occurrences with +which no system of philosophy invented by man is capable of grappling. +I can just keep my head, that is all, and note down what happens more +or less day by day, so that when the doings of dwarfs and captains, +and horse-tamers and youthful Members of Parliament concern me no +more, Dale Kynnersley can have a bald but veracious statement of fact. +And as I have before mentioned, he loves facts, just as a bear loves +honey. + +I passed a quiet day or two in my hotel garden, among the sweet-peas, +and the roses, and the geraniums. There were little shady summer- +houses where one could sit and dream, and watch the blue sky and the +palms and the feathery pepper trees drooping with their coral berries, +and the golden orange-trees and the wisteria and the great gorgeous +splash of purple bougainvillea above the Moorish arches of the hotel. +There were mild little walks in the eucalyptus woods behind, where one +went through acanthus and wild absinthe, and here and there as the +path wound, the great blue bay came into view, and far away the snow- +capped peaks of the Atlas. There were warmth and sunshine, and the +unexciting prattle of the retired Colonels and maiden ladies. There +was a hotel library filled with archaic fiction. I took out +Ainsworth's "Tower of London," and passed a happy morning in the sun +renewing the thrills of my childhood. I began to forget the outer +world in my enchanted garden, like a knight in the Forest of +Broceliande. + +Then came the letter from Tlemcen. The Lieutenant-Colonel commanding +the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs d'Afrique had received my honoured +communication but regretted to say that he, together with all the +officers of the regiment, had severed their connection with Captain +Vauvenarde, and that they were ignorant of his present address. + +This was absurd. A man does not resign from his regiment and within a +year or two disappear like a ghost from the ken of every one of his +brother officers. I read the letter again. Did the severance of +connection mean the casting out of a black sheep from their midst? I +came to the conclusion that it did. They had washed their hands of +Captain Vauvenarde, and desired to hear nothing of him in the future. + +So I awoke from my lethargy, and springing up sent not for my shield +and spear, but for an "Indicateur des Chemins de Fer." I would go to +Tlemcen and get to the bottom of it. I searched the time-table and +found two trains, one starting from Algiers at nine-forty at night and +getting into Tlemcen at noon next day, and one leaving at six-fifty in +the morning and arriving at half-past ten at night. I groaned aloud. +The dealing unto oneself a happy life and portion did not include +abominable train journeys like these. I was trying to decide whether I +should travel all night or all day when the Arab chasseur of the hotel +brought me a telegram. I opened it. It ran: + + + "Starting for Algiers. Meet me.--LOLA." + + +It was despatched that morning from Victoria Station. I gazed at it +stupidly. Why in the world was Lola Brandt coming to join me in +Algiers? If she had wanted to do her husband hunting on her own +account, why had she put me to the inconvenience of my journey? Her +action could not have been determined by my letter about Anastasius +Papadopoulos, as a short calculation proved that it could not have +reached her. I wandered round and round the garden paths vainly +seeking for the motive. Was it escape from Dale? Had she, womanlike, +taken the step which she was so anxious to avoid--and in order to +avoid taking which all this bother had arisen--and given the boy his +dismissal? If so, why had she not gone to Paris or St. Petersburg or +Terra del Fuego? Why Algiers? Dale abandoned outright, the necessity +for finding her husband had disappeared. Perhaps she was coming to +request me, on that account, to give up the search. But why travel +across seas and continents when a telegram or a letter would have +sufficed? She was coming at any rate; and as she gave no date I +presumed that she would travel straight through and arrive in about +forty-eight hours. This reflection caused a gleam of sunshine to +traverse my gloom. I was not physically capable of performing the +journey to Tlemcen and back before her arrival. I could, therefore, +dream among the roses of the garden for another couple of days. And +when she came, perhaps she would like to go to Tlemcen herself and try +the effect of her woman's fascinations on the Lieutenant-Colonel and +officers of the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs d'Afrique. + +In any case, her sudden departure argued well for Dale's liberation. +If the rupture had occurred I was quite contented. That is what I had +wished to accomplish. It only remained now to return to London, while +breath yet stayed in my body, and lead him diplomatically to the feet +of Maisie Ellerton. Then I would have ended my eumoirous task, and my +last happy words would be a paternal benediction. But all the same, I +had set forth to find this confounded captain and did not want to be +hindered. The sportsman's instinct which, in my robust youth, had led +me to crawl miles on my belly over wet heather in order to get a shot +at a stag, I found, somewhat to my alarm, was urging me on this chase +after Captain Vauvenarde. He was my quarry. I resented interference. +Deer-stalking then, and man-stalking now, I wanted no petticoats in +the party. I worked myself up into an absurd state of irritability. +Why was she coming to spoil the sport? I had arranged to track her +husband down, reason with him, work on his feelings, telegraph for his +wife, and in an affecting interview throw them into each other's arms. +Now, goodness knows what would happen. Certainly not my beautifully +conceived /coup de theatre/. + +"And she has the impertinence," I cried in my wrath, "to sign herself +'Lola'! As if I ever called her, or could ever be in a position to +call her 'Lola'! I should like to know," I exclaimed, hurling the +"Indicateur des Chemins de Fer" on to the seat of a summer-house, +built after the manner of a little Greek temple, "I should like to +know what the deuce she means by it!" + +"Hallo! Hallo! What the devil's the matter?" cried a voice; and I +found I had disturbed from his slumbers an unnoticed Colonel of +British Cavalry. + +"A thousand pardons!" said I. "I thought I was alone, and gave vent to +the feelings of the moment." + +Colonel Bunnion stretched himself and joined me. + +"That's the worst of this place," he said. "It's so liverish. One +lolls about and sleeps all day long, and one's liver gets like a +Strasburg goose's and plays Old Harry with one's temper. Why one +should come here when there are pheasants to be shot in England, I +don't know." + +"Neither your liver nor your temper seem to be much affected, +Colonel," said I, "for you've been violently awakened from a sweet +sleep and are in a most amiable frame of mind." + +He laughed, suggested exercise, the Briton's panacea for all ills, and +took me for a walk. When we returned at dusk, and after I had had tea +before the fire (for December evenings in Algiers are chilly) in one +of the pretty Moorish alcoves of the lounge, my good humour was +restored. I viewed our pursuit of Captain Vauvenarde in its right +aspect--that of a veritable Snark-Hunt of which I was the Bellman--and +the name "Lola" curled itself round my heart with the same grateful +sensation of comfort as the warm China tea. After all, it was only as +Lola that I thought of her. The name fitted her personality, which +Brandt did not. Out of "Brandt" I defy you to get any curvilinear +suggestion. I reflected dreamily that it would be pleasant to walk +with her among the roses in the sunshine and to drink tea with her in +dusky Moorish alcoves. I also thought, with an enjoyable spice of +malice, of what the retired Colonels and elderly maiden ladies would +have to say about Lola when she arrived. They should have a gorgeous +time. + +So light-hearted did I become that, the next evening, while I was +dressing for dinner, I did not frown when the chasseur brought me up +the huge trilingual visiting-card of Professor Anastasius +Papadopoulos. + +"Show the gentleman up," said I. + +Rogers handed me my black tie and began to gather together discarded +garments so as to make the room tidy for the visitor. It was a +comfortable bed-sitting-room, with the bed in an alcove and a tiny +dressing-room attached. A wood fire burned on the hearth on each side +of which was an armchair. Presently there came a knock at the door. +Rogers opened it and admitted Papadopoulos, who forthwith began to +execute his usual manoeuvres of salutation. Rogers stood staring and +open-mouthed at the apparition. It took all his professional training +in imperturbability to enable him to make a decent exit. This +increased my good humour. I grasped the dwarf's hand. + +"My dear Professor, I am delighted to see you. Pray excuse my +receiving you in this unceremonious fashion, and sit down by the +fire." + +I hastily completed my toilette by stuffing my watch, letter-case, +loose change and handkerchief into my pockets, and took a seat +opposite him. + +"It is I," said he politely, "who must apologise for this untimely +call. I have wanted to pay my respects to you since I arrived in +Algiers, but till now I have had no opportunity." + +"Allow me," said I, "to disembarrass you of your hat." + +I took the high-crowned, flat-brimmed thing which he was nursing +somewhat nervously on his knees, and put it on the table. He murmured +that I was "/Sehr aimable/." + +"And the charming Monsieur Saupiquet, how is he?" I asked. + +He drew out his gilt-embossed pocket-book, and from it extracted an +envelope. + +"This," said he, handing it to me, "is the receipt. I have to thank +you again for regulating the debt, as it has enabled me to transact +with Monsieur Saupiquet the business on which I summoned him from +Toulon. He is the most obstinate, pig-headed camel that ever lived, +and I believe he has returned to Toulon in the best of health. No, +thank you," he added, refusing my offer of cigarettes, "I don't smoke. +It disturbs the perfect adjustment of my nerves, and so imperils my +gigantic combinations. It is also distasteful to my cats." + +"You must miss them greatly," said I. + +He sighed--then his face lit up with inspiration. + +"Ah, signor! What would one not sacrifice for an idea, for duty, for +honour, for the happiness of those we love?" + +"Those are sentiments, Monsieur Papadopoulos," I remarked, "which do +you infinite credit." + +"And, therefore, I express them, sir," he replied, "to show you what +manner of man I am." He paused for a moment; then bending forward, his +hands on his little knees--he was sitting far back in the chair and +his legs were dangling like a child's--he regarded me intently. + +"Would you be equally chivalrous for the sake of an idea?" + +I replied that I hoped I should conduct myself /en galant homme/ in +any circumstances. + +"I knew it," he cried. "My intuition is never wrong. An English +statesman is as fearless as Agamemnon, and as wise as Nestor. Have you +your evening free?" + +"Yes," I replied wonderingly. + +"Would you care to devote it to a perilous adventure? Not so perilous, +for I"--he thumped his chest--"will be there. But still /molto +gefahrlich/." + +His black eyes held mine in burning intensity. So as to hide a smile I +lit a cigarette. I know not what little imp in motley possessed me +that evening. He seemed to hit me over the head with his bladder, and +counsel me to play the fool like himself, for once in my life before I +died. I could almost hear him speaking. + +"Surely a crazy dwarf out of a nightmare is more entertaining company +than decayed Colonels of British Cavalry." + +I blew two or three puffs of my cigarette, and met my guest's eager +gaze. + +"I shall be happy to put myself at your disposal," said I. "May I ask, +without indiscretion--?" + +"No, no," he interrupted, "don't ask. Secrecy is part of the gigantic +combination. /En galant homme/, I require of you--confidence." + +With an irresistible touch of mockery I said: "Professor Papadopoulos, +I will be happy to follow you blindfold to the lair of whatever fire- +breathing dragon you may want me to help you destroy." + +He rose and grasped his hat and made me a profound bow. + +"You will not find me wanting in courage, Monsieur. There is another +small favour I would ask of you. Will you bring some of your visiting- +cards?" + +"With pleasure," said I. + +At that moment the gong clanged loudly through the hotel. + +"It is your dinner-hour," said the dwarf. "I depart. Our rendezvous--" + +"Let us have no rendezvous, my dear Professor," I interposed. "What +more simple than that you should do me the pleasure of dining with me +here? We can thus fortify ourselves with food and drink for our +adventure, and we can start on it comfortably together whenever it +seems good to you." + +The little man put his head on one side and looked at me in an odd +way. + +"Do you mean," he asked in a softened voice, "that you ask me to dine +with you in the midst of your aristocratic compatriots?" + +"Why, evidently," said I, baffled. "It's only an ordinary table d'hote +dinner." + +To my astonishment, tears actually spurted out of the eyes of the +amazing little creature. He took my hand and before I knew what he was +going to do with it he had touched it with his lips. + +"My dear Professor!" I cried in dismay. + +He put up a pudgy hand, and said with great dignity: + +"I cannot dine with you, Monsieur de Gex. But I thank you from my +heart for your generous kindness. I shall never forget it to my dying +day." + +"But----" + +He would listen to no protests. "If you will do me the honour of +coming at nine o'clock to the Cafe de Bordeaux, at the corner of the +Place du Gouvernement, I shall be there. /Auf wiedersehen/, Monsieur, +and a thousand thanks. I beg you as a favour not to accompany me. I +couldn't bear it." + +And, drawing a great white handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his +eyes, blew his nose, and disappeared like a flash through the door +which I held open for him. + +I went down to dinner in a chastened mood. The little man had not +shown me before the pathetic side of the freak's life. By asking him +to dinner as if he were normal I had earned his eternal gratitude. And +yet, with a smile, which I trust the Recording Angel when he makes up +my final balance-sheet of good and evil will not ascribe to an +unfeeling heart, I could not help formulating the hope that his +gratitude would not be shown by presents of China fowls sitting on +eggs, Tyrolese chalets and bottles with ladders and little men inside +them. I did not feel within me the wide charity of Lola Brandt; and I +could not repress a smile, as I ate my solitary meal, at the perils of +the adventure to which I was invited. I had no doubt that it bore the +same relation to danger as Monsieur Saupiquet's sevenpence-halfpenny +bore to a serious debt. + +Colonel Bunnion, a genial little red-faced man, with bulgy eyes and a +moustache too big for his body, who sat, also solitary, at the next +table to mine, suddenly began to utter words which I discovered were +addressed to me. + +"Most amazing thing happened to me as I was coming down to dinner. +Just got out of the corridor to the foot of the stairs, when down +rushed something about three foot nothing in a devil of a top-hat and +butted me full in the pit of the stomach, and bounded off like a +football. When I picked it up I found it was a man--give you my word-- +it was a man. About so high. Gave me quite a turn." + +"That," said I, with a smile, "was my friend Professor Anastasius +Papadopoulos." + +"A friend of yours?" + +"He had just been calling on me." + +"Then I wish you'd entreat him not to go downstairs like a six-inch +shell. I'll have a bruise to-morrow where the crown of his hat caught +me as big as a soup-plate." + +I offered the cheerily indignant warrior apologies for my friend's +parabolic method of descent, and suggested Elliman's Embrocation. + +"The most extraordinary part of it," he interrupted, "was that when I +picked him up he was weeping like anything. What was he crying about?" + +"He is a sensitive creature," said I, "and he doesn't come upon the +pit of the stomach of a Colonel of British Cavalry every day in the +week." + +He sniffed uncertainly at the remark for a second or two and then +broke into a laugh and asked me to play bridge after dinner. On the +two preceding evenings he and I had attempted to cheer, in this +manner, the desolation of a couple of the elderly maiden ladies. But I +may say, parenthetically, that as he played bridge as if he were +leading a cavalry charge according to a text-book on tactics, and as I +play card games in a soft, mental twilight, and as the two ladies were +very keen bridge players indeed, I had great doubts as to the success +of our attempts. + +"I'm sorry," said I, "but I'm going down into the town to-night." + +"Theatre? If so, I'll go with you." + +The gallant gentleman was always at a loose end. Unless he could +persuade another human being to do something with him--no matter what +--he would joyfully have played cat's cradle with me by the hour--he +sat in awful boredom meditating on his liver. + +"I'm not going to the theatre," I said, "and I wish I could ask you to +accompany me on my adventure." + +The Colonel raised his eyebrows. I laughed. + +"I'm not going to twang guitars under balconies." + +The Colonel reddened and swore he had never thought of such a thing. +He was a perjured villain; but I did not tell him so. + +"In what my adventure will consist I can't say," I remarked. + +"If you're going to fool about Algiers at night you'd better carry a +revolver." + +I told him I did not possess such deadly weapons. He offered to lend +me one. The two Misses Bostock from South Shields, who sat at the +table within earshot and had been following our conversation, +manifested signs of excited interest. + +"I shall be quite protected," said I, "by the dynamic qualities of +your acquaintance, Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos, with whom I have +promised to spend the evening." + +"You had better have the revolver," said the Colonel. And so bent was +he on the point, that after dinner he came to me in the lounge and +laid a loaded six-shooter beside my coffee-cup. The younger Miss +Bostock grew pale. It looked an ugly, cumbrous, devastating weapon. + +"But, my dear Colonel," I protested, "it's against the law to carry +fire-arms." + +"Law--what law?" + +"Why the law of France," said I. + +This staggered him. The fact of there being decent laws in foreign +parts has staggered many an honest Briton. He counselled a damnation +of the law, and finally, in order to humour him, I allowed him to +thrust the uncomfortable thing into my hip-pocket. + +"Colonel," said I, when I took leave of him an hour later, "I have +armed myself out of pure altruism. I shan't be able to sit down in +peace and comfort for the rest of the evening. Should I accidentally +do so, my blood will be on your head." + + + +CHAPTER XII + +The tram that passes the hotel gates took me into the town and dropped +me at the Place du Gouvernement. With its strange fusion of East and +West, its great white-domed mosque flanked by the tall minaret +contrasting with its formal French colonnaded facades, its groupings +of majestic white-robed forms and commonplace figures in caps and hard +felt hats; the mystery of its palm trees, and the crudity of its +flaring electric lights, it gave an impression of unreality, of a +modern contractor's idea of Fairyland, where anything grotesque might +assume an air of normality. The moon shone full in the heavens, and as +I crossed the Place I saw the equestrian statue of the Duke of Orleans +silhouetted against the mosque. The port, to the east, was quiet at +this hour, and the shipping lay dreamily in the moonlight. Far away +one could see the dim outlines of the Kabyle Mountains, and the vague +melting of sea and sky into a near horizon. The undefinable smell of +the East was in the air. + +The Cafe de Bordeaux, which forms an angle of the Place, blazed in +front of me. A few hardy souls, a Zouave or two, an Arab, a bored +Englishman and his wife, and some French inhabitants were sitting +outside in the chilliness. I entered. The cafe was filled with a +nondescript crowd, and the rattle of dominoes rose above the hum of +talk. In a corner near the door I discovered the top of a silk hat +projecting above a widely opened newspaper grasped by two pudgy hands, +and I recognised the Professor. + +"Monsieur," said he, when I had taken a seat at his table, "if the +unknown terrors which you are going to confront dismay you, I beg that +you will not consider yourself bound to me." + +"My dear Professor," I replied, "a brave man tastes of death but +once." + +He was much delighted at the sentiment, which he took to be original. + +"I shall quote it," said he, "whenever my honour or my courage is +called into question. It is not often that a man has the temerity to +do so. Can I have the honour of offering you a whisky and soda?" + +"Have we time?" I asked. + +"We have time," he said, solemnly consulting his watch. "Things will +ripen." + +"Then," said I, "I shall have much pleasure in drinking to their +maturity." + +While we were drinking our whisky and soda he talked volubly of many +things--his travels, his cats, his own incredible importance in the +cosmos. And as he sat there vapouring about the pathetically +insignificant he looked more like Napoleon III than ever. His eyes had +the same mournful depths, his features the same stamp of fatality. +Each man has his gigantic combinations--perhaps equally important in +the eyes of the High Gods. I was filled with an immense pity for +Napoleon III. + +Of the object of the adventure he said nothing. As secrecy seemed to +be a vital element in his fifteen-cent scheme, I showed no +embarrassing curiosity. Indeed, I felt but little, though I was +certain that the adventure was connected with the world-cracking +revelations of Monsieur Saupiquet, and was undertaken in the interest +of his beloved lady, Lola Brandt. But it was like playing at pirates +with a child, and my pity for Napoleon gave place to my pity for my +valiant but childish little friend. + +At last he looked again at his watch. + +"The hour his struck. Let us proceed." + +Instinctively I summoned the waiter, and drew a coin from my pocket; +and when the grown-up person and the small boy hobnob together the +former pays. But Anastasius, with a swift look of protest, anticipated +my intention. I was his guest for the evening. I yielded +apologetically, the score was paid, and we went forth into the +moonlight. + +He led me across the Place du Gouvernement and struck straight up the +hill past the Cathedral, and, turning, plunged into a network of +narrow streets, where the poor of all races lived together in amity +and evil odours. Shops chiefly occupied the ground floors; some were +the ordinary humble shops of Europeans; others were caves lit by a +smoky lamp, where Arabs lounged and smoked around the tailors or +cobblers squatting at their work; others were Jewish, with Hebrew +inscriptions. There were dark Arab cafes, noisy Italian wine-shops, +butchers' stalls; children of all ages played and screamed about the +precipitous cobble-paved streets; and the shrill cries of Jewish +women, sitting at their doors, rose in rebuke of husband or offspring. +Not many lights appeared through the shuttered windows of the dark, +high houses. Overhead, between two facades, one saw a strip of +paleness which one knew was the moonlit sky. Conversation with my +companion being difficult--the top of his silk hat just reached my +elbow--I strode along in silence, Anastasius trotting by my side. Many +jeers and jests were flung at us as we passed, whereat he scowled +terribly; but no one molested us. I am inclined to think that +Anastasius attributed this to fear of his fierce demeanour. If so, he +was happy, as were the simple souls who flouted; and this reflection +kept my mind serene. + +Presently we turned into a wide and less poverty-stricken street, +which I felt sure we could have reached by a less tortuous and +malodorous path. A few yards down we came to a dark /porte cochere/. +The dwarf halted, crossed, so as to read the number by the gas lamp, +and joining me, said: + +"It is here. Have you your visiting-cards ready?" + +I nodded. We proceeded down the dark entry till we came to a slovenly, +ill-kept glass box lit by a small gas jet, whence emerged a slovenly, +ill-kept man. This was the concierge. Anastasius addressed a remark to +him which I did not catch. + +"/Au fond de la cour, troisieme a gauche/," said the concierge. + +As yet there seemed to be nothing peculiarly perilous about the +adventure. We crossed the cobble-paved courtyard and mounted an evil- +smelling stone staircase, blackened here and there by the occasional +gas jets. On the third landing we halted. Anastasius put up his hand +and gripped mine. + +"Two strong men together," said he, "need fear nothing." + +I confess my only fear was lest the confounded revolver which swung +insecurely in my hip-pocket might go off of its own accord. I did not +mention this to my companion. He raised his hat, wiped his brow, and +rang the bell. + +The door opened about six inches, and a man's dark-moustachioed face +appeared. + +"/Vous desirez, Messieurs/?" + +As I had not the remotest idea what we desired, I let Anastasius be +spokesman. + +"Here is an English milord," said Anastasius boldly, "who would like +to be admitted for the evening to the privileges of the Club." + +"Enter, gentlemen," said the man, who appeared to be the porter. + +We found ourselves in a small vestibule. In front of us was a large +door, on the right a small one, both closed. At a table by the large +door sat a dirty, out-of-elbows raven of a man reading a newspaper. +The latter looked up and addressed me. + +"You wish to enter the Club, Monsieur?" + +I had no particular longing to do so, but I politely answered that +such was my desire. + +"If you will give your visiting-card, I will submit it to the +Secretariat." + +I produced my card; Anastasius thrust a pencil into my hand. + +"Write my name on it, too." + +I obeyed. The raven sent the porter with the card into the room on the +right, and resumed the perusal of his soiled newspaper. I looked at +Anastasius. The little man was quivering with excitement. The porter +returned after a few minutes with a couple of pink oval cards which he +handed to each of us. I glanced at mine. On it was inscribed: /Cercle +Africain d'Alger. Carte de Member Honoraire. Une soiree/. And then +there was a line for the honorary member's signature. The raven man +dipped a pen in the ink-pot in front of him and handed it to me. + +"Will you sign, Messieurs?" + +We executed this formality; he retained the cards, and opening the +great door, said: + +"/Entrez, Messieurs/!" + +The door closed behind us. It was simply a /tripot/, or gambling-den. +And all this solemn farce of Secretariats and /cartes d'entree/ to +obtain admission! It is curious how the bureaucratic instinct is +ingrained in the French character. + +It was a large, ill-ventilated room, blue with cigarette and cigar +smoke. Some thirty men were sitting or standing around a baccarat +table in the centre, and two or three groups hung around /ecarte/ +tables in the corners. A personage who looked like a slightly more +prosperous brother of the raven outside and wore a dinner-jacket, +promenaded the room with the air of one in authority. He scrutinised +us carefully from a distance; then advanced and greeted us politely. + +"You have chosen an excellent evening," said he. "There are a great +many people, and the banks are large." + +He bowed and passed on. A dingy waiter took our hats and coats and +hung them up. Anastasius plucked me by the sleeve. + +"If you don't mind staking a little for the sake of appearances, I +shall be grateful." + +I whispered: "Can you tell me now, my dear Professor, for what reason +you have brought me to this gaming-hell?" + +He looked up at me out of his mournful eyes and murmured, "/Patienza, +lieber Herr/." Then spying a vacant place behind the chairs at the +baccarat table, he darted thither, and I followed in his wake. There +must have been about a couple of hundred louis in the bank, which was +held by a dissipated, middle-aged man who, having once been handsome +in a fleshy way, had run to fat. His black hair, cropped short, stood +up like a shoebrush, and when he leaned back in his chair a roll of +flesh rose above his collar. I disliked the fellow for his +unhealthiness, and for the hard mockery in his puffy eyes. The company +seemed fairly homogeneous in its raffishness, though here and there +appeared a thin, aristocratic face, with grey moustache and pointed +beard, and the homely anxious visage of a small tradesman. But in bulk +it looked an ugly, seedy crowd, with unwashed bodies and unclean +souls. I noticed an Italian or two, and a villainous Englishman with a +face like that of a dilapidated horse. A glance at the table plastered +with silver and gold showed me that they were playing with a five- +franc minimum. + +Anastasius drew a handful of louis from his pocket and staked one. I +staked a five-franc piece. The cards were dealt, the banker exposed a +nine, the highest number, and the croupier's flat spoon swept the +table. A murmur arose. The banker was having the luck of Satan. + +"He always protects me, the good fellow," laughed the banker, who had +overheard the remark. + +Again we staked, again the hands were dealt. Our tableau or end of the +table won, the other lost. The croupier threw the coins in payment. I +let my double stake lie, and so did Anastasius. At the next coup we +lost again. The banker stuffed his winnings into his pocket and +declared a /suite/. The bank was put up at auction, and was eventually +knocked down to the same personage for fifty louis. The horse-headed +Englishman cried "/banco/," which means that he would play the banker +for the whole amount. The hands were dealt, the Englishman lost, and +the game started afresh with a hundred louis in the bank. The +proceedings began to bore me. Even if my experience of life had not +suggested that scrupulous fairness and honour were not the guiding +principles of such an assemblage, I should have taken little interest +in the game. I am a great believer in the wholesomeness of compounding +for sins you are inclined to by damning those you have no mind to. It +aids the nice balance of life. And gambling is one of the sins I +delight to damn. The rapid getting of money has never appealed to me, +who have always had sufficient for my moderately epicurean needs, and +least of all did it appeal to me now when I was on the brink of my +journey to the land where French gold and bank notes were not in +currency. I repeat, therefore, that I was bored. + +"If the perils of the adventure don't begin soon, my dear Professor," +I whispered, "I shall go to sleep standing." + +Again he asked for patience and staked a hundred-franc note. At that +moment the man sitting at the table in front of him rose, and the +dwarf slipped swiftly into his seat. He won his hundred francs and +made the same stake again. It was obvious that the little man did not +damn gambling. It was a sin to which he appeared peculiarly inclined. +The true inwardness of the perilous adventure began to dawn on me. He +had come here to make the money wherewith he could further his +gigantic combinations. All this mystery was part of his childish +cunning. I hardly knew whether to box the little creature's ears, to +box my own, or to laugh. I compromised with a smile on the last +alternative, and baccarat being a dreary game to watch, I strolled off +to the nearest /ecarte/ table, and, to justify my presence in the +room, backed one of the players. + +Presently my attention was called to the baccarat table by a noise as +of some dispute, and turning, I saw the gentleman in the dinner-jacket +hurrying to what appeared to be the storm centre, the place where +Anastasius was sitting. Suspecting some minor peril, I left the +/ecarte/ players, and joined the gentleman in the dinner-jacket. It +seemed that the hand, which is played in rotation by those seated at +each tableau or half-table, had come round for the first time to +Anastasius, and objection had been taken to his playing it, on the +score of his physical appearance. The dwarf was protesting vehemently. +He had played baccarat in all the clubs of Europe, and had never +received such treatment. It was infamous, it was insulting. The +malcontents of the punt paid little heed to his remonstrances. They +resented the entrusting of their fortunes to one whose chin barely +rose above the level of the table. The banker lit a cigarette and sat +back in his chair with a smile of mockery. His attitude brought up the +superfluous flesh about his chin and the roll of fat at the back of +his neck. With his moustache /en croc/, and his shoebrush hair, I have +rarely beheld a more sensual-looking desperado. + +"But gentlemen," said he, "I see no objection whatever to Monsieur +playing the hand." + +"Naturally," retorted a voice, "since it would be to your advantage." + +The raven in the dinner-jacket commanded silence. + +"Gentlemen, I decide that, according to the rules of the game, +Monsieur is entitled to play the hand." + +"Bravo!" exclaimed one or two of my friend's supporters. + +"/C'est idiot/!" growled the malcontents. + +"/Messieurs, faites vos jeux/!" cried the croupier. + +The stakes were laid, the banker looked around, estimating the +comparative values of the two tableaux. Anastasius had backed his hand +with a pile of louis. To encourage him, and to conciliate the hostile +punt, I threw down a hundred-franc note. + +"/Les jeux sont faits? Rien ne va plus/." + +The banker dealt, two cards to each tableau, two to himself. +Anastasius, trembling with nervous excitement, stretched out a palsied +little fist towards the cards. He drew them towards him, face +downwards, peeped at them in the most approved manner, and in a husky +voice called for an extra card. + +The card dealt face upwards was a five. The banker turned up his own +cards, a two and a four, making a point of six. Naturally he stood, +Anastasius did nothing. + +"Show your cards--show your cards!" cried several voices. + +He turned over the two cards originally dealt to him. They were a king +and a nine, making the natural nine, the highest point, and he had +actually asked for another card. It was the unforgivable sin. The five +that had been dealt to him brought his point to four. There was a roar +of indignation. Men with violent faces rose and cursed him, and shook +their fists at him. Others clamoured that the coup was ineffective. +They were not going to be at the mercy of an idiot who knew nothing of +the game. The hand must be dealt over again. + +"/Jamais de la vie/!" shouted the banker. + +"/Le coup est bon/!" cried the raven in authority, and the croupier's +spoon hovered over the tableau. But the horse-headed Englishman +clutched the two louis he had staked. He was damned, and a great many +other things, if he would lose his money that way. The raven in the +dinner-jacket darted round, and bending over him, caught him by the +wrist. Two or three others grabbed their stakes, and swore they would +not pay. The banker rose and went to the rescue of his gains. There +was screaming and shouting and struggling and riot indescribable. +Those round about us went on cursing Anastasius, who sat quite still, +with quivering lips, as helpless as a rabbit. The raven tore his way +through the throng around the Englishman and came up to me excited and +dishevelled. + +"It is all your fault, Monsieur," he shrieked, "for introducing into +the club a half-witted creature like that." + +"Yes, it's your fault," cried a low-browed, ugly fellow looking like a +butcher in uneasy circumstances who stood next to me. Suddenly the +avalanche of indignation fell upon my head. Angry, ugly men crowded +round me and began to curse me instead of the dwarf. Cries arose. The +adventure began, indeed, to grow idiotically perilous. I had never +been thrown out of doors in my life. I objected strongly to the idea. +It might possibly hurt my body, and would certainly offend my dignity. +I felt that I could not make my exit through the portals of life with +the urbanity on which I had counted, if, as a preparatory step, I had +been thrown out of a gambling-hell. There were only two things to be +done. Either I must whip out my ridiculous revolver and do some free +shooting, or I must make an appeal to the lower feelings of the +assembly. I chose the latter alternative. With a sudden movement I +slipped through the angry and gesticulating crowd, and leaped on a +chair by one of the deserted /ecarte/ tables. Then I raised a +commanding arm, and, in my best election-meeting voice, I cried: + +"/Messieurs/!" + +The unexpectedness of the manoeuvre caused instant silence. + +"As my friend and myself," I said, "are the cause of this unpleasant +confusion, I shall be most happy to pay the banker the losses of the +tableau." + +And I drew out and brandished my pocket-book, in which, by a special +grace of Providence, there happened to be a considerable sum of money. + +Murmurs of approbation arose. Then the Englishman sang out: + +"But what about the money we would have won, if that little fool had +played the game properly?" + +The remark was received with cheers. + +"That amount, too," said I, "I shall be happy to disburse." + +There was nothing more to be said, as everybody, banker and punt, were +satisfied. The raven in the dinner-jacket came up and informed me that +my proposal solved the difficulty. I besought him to make out the bill +for my little entertainment as quickly as possible. Then I dismounted +from my chair and beckoned to the dwarf, still sitting white and +piteous, to join me. He obeyed like a frightened child who had been +naughty. All his swagger and braggadocio were gone. His bosom heaved +with suppressed sobs. He sat down on the chair I had vacated and +buried his face on the /ecarte/ table. We remained thus aloof from the +crowd who were intent on the calculation at the baccarat table. At +last the raven in the dinner-jacket arrived with a note of the amount. +It was two thousand three hundred francs. I gave him the notes, and, +taking Anastasius by the arm, led him to the door, where the waiter +stood with our hats and coats. Before we could reach it, however, the +banker, who had risen from his seat, crossed the room and addressed +me. + +"Monsieur," said he, with an air of high-bred courtesy, "I infinitely +regret this unpleasant affair and I thank you for your perfect +magnanimity." + +I did not suggest that with equal magnanimity he might refund the +forty-six pounds that had found its way from my pocket to his, but I +bowed with stiff politeness, and made my exit with as much dignity as +the attachment to my heels of the crestfallen Anastasius would permit. + +Outside I constituted myself the guide, and took the first turning +downhill, knowing that it would lead to the civilised centre of the +town. The dwarf's roundabout route was characteristic of his tortuous +mind. We walked along for some time without saying anything. I could +not find it in my heart to reproach the little man for the +expensiveness (nearly a hundred pounds) of his perilous adventure, and +he seemed too dazed with shame and humiliation to speak. At last, when +we reached, as I anticipated, the Square de la Republique, I patted +him on the shoulder. + +"Cheer up, my dear Professor," said I. "We both are acquainted with +nobler things than the ins and outs of gaming-hells." + +He reeled to a bench under the palm trees, and bursting into tears, +gave vent to his misery in the most incoherent language ever uttered +by man. I sat beside him and vainly attempted consolation. + +"Ah, how mad I am! Ah, how contemptible! I dare not face my beautiful +cats again. I dare not see the light of the sun. I have betrayed my +trust. Accursed be the cards. I, who had my gigantic combination. It +is all gone. Beautiful lady, forgive me. Generous-hearted friend, +forgive me. I am the most miserable of God's creatures." + +"It is an accident that might happen to any one," I said gently. "You +were nervous. You looked at the cards, you mistook the nine for a ten, +in which case you were right to call for another card." + +"It is not that," he wailed. "It is the spoiling of my combination, on +which I have wasted sleepless nights. A curse on my mad folly. Do you +know who the banker was?" + +"No," said I. + +"He was Captain Vauvenarde, the husband of Madame Brandt." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +You could have knocked me down with a feather. It is a trite metaphor, +I know; but it is none the less excellent. I repeat, therefore, +unblushingly--you could have knocked me down with a feather. I gasped. +The little man wiped his eyes. He was the tearfullest adult I have +ever met, and I once knew an Italian /prima donna/ with a temperament. + +"Captain Vauvenarde? The man with the shoebrush hair and the rolls of +fat at the back of his neck? Are you sure?" + +The dwarf nodded. "I set out from England to find him. I swore to the +/carissima signora/ that I would do so. I have done it," he added, +with a faint return of his self-confidence. + +"Well, I'm damned!" said I, in my native tongue. + +I don't often use strong language; but the occasion warranted it. I +was flabbergasted, bewildered, out-raged, humiliated, delighted, +incredulous, and generally turned topsy-turvy. In conversation one has +no time for so minute an analysis of one's feelings. I therefore +summed them up in the only word. Captain Vauvenarde! The wild goose of +my absurd chase! Found by this Flibbertigibbet of a fellow, while I, +Simon de Gex, erstwhile M.P., was fooling about War Offices and +regiments! It was grotesque. It was monstrous. It ought not to have +been allowed. And yet it saved me a vast amount of trouble. + +"I'm damned!" said I. + +Anastasius had just enough English to understand. I suppose, such is +mortal unregeneracy, that it is the most widely understood word in the +universe. + +"And I," said he, "am eternally beaten. I am trampled under foot and +shall never be able to hold up my head again." + +Whereupon he renewed his lamentations. For some time I listened +patiently, and from his disconnected remarks I gathered that he had +gone to the Cercle Africain in view of his gigantic combinations, but +that the demon of gambling taking possession of him had almost driven +them from his mind. Eventually he had lost control of his nerves, a +cloud had spread over his brain, and he had committed the unspeakable +blunder which led to disaster. + +"To think that I should have tracked him down--for this!" he exclaimed +tragically. + +"What beats me," I cried, "is how the deuce you managed to track him +down. Your magnificent intellect, I suppose"--I spoke gently and not +in open sarcasm--"enabled you to get on the trail." + +He brightened at the compliment. "Yes, that was it. Listen. I came to +Algiers, the last place he was heard of. I go to the cafes. I listen +like a detective to conversation. I creep behind soldiers talking. I +find out nothing. I ask at the shops. They think I am crazy, but +Anastasius Papadopoulos has a brain larger than theirs. I go to my old +friend the secretary of the theatre, where I have exhibited the +marvellous performance of my cats. I say to him, 'When have you a date +for me?' He says, 'Next year.' I make a note of it. We talk. He knows +all Algiers. I say to him, 'What has become of Captain Vauvenarde of +the Chasseurs d'Afrique?' I say it carelessly as if the Captain were +an old friend of mine. The secretary laughs. 'Haven't you heard? The +Captain was chased from the regiment----'" + +"The deuce he was!" I interjected. + +"On account of something," said Anastasius. "The secretary could not +tell what. Perhaps he cheated at cards. The officers said so. + +"'Where is he now?' I ask. 'Why, in Algiers. He is the most famous +gambler in the town. He is every night at the Cercle Africain, and +some people believe that it belongs to him.' My friend the secretary +asks me why I am so anxious to discover Captain Vauvenarde. I do not +betray my secret. When I do not wish to talk I close my lips, and they +are sealed like the tomb. I am the model of discretion. You, Monsieur, +with the high-bred delicacy of the English statesman, have not +questioned me about my combination. I appreciate it. But, if you had, +though it broke my heart, I should not have answered." + +"I am not going to pry into your schemes," I said, "but there are one +or two things I must understand. How do you know the banker was +Captain Vauvenarde?" + +"I saw him several times in Marseilles with the /carissima signora/." + +"Then how was it he did not recognise you to-night?" + +"I was then but an acquaintance of Madame; not her intimate friend, +counsellor, champion, as I am now. I did not have the honour of being +presented to Captain Vauvenarde. I went to-night to make sure of my +man, to play the first card in my gigantic combination--but, alas! But +no!" He rose and thumped his little chest. "I feel my courage coming +back. My will is stiffening into iron. When the /carissima signora/ +arrives in Algiers she will find she has a champion!" + +"How do you know she is coming to Algiers?" I asked startled. + +"As soon as I learned that Captain Vauvenarde was here," he replied +proudly, "I sent her a telegram. 'Husband found; come at once.' I know +she is coming, for she has not answered." + +An idea occurred to me. "Did you sign your name and address on the +telegram?" + +He approached me confidentially as I sat, and wagged a cunning finger. + +"In matters of life and death, never give your name and address." + +As Professor Anastasius Papadopoulos was himself again, and as I began +to sneeze--for the night was chilly--I rose and suggested that we +might adjourn this conference till the morrow. He acquiesced, saying +that all was not lost and that he still had time to mature his +combinations. We crossed the road, and I hailed a cab standing by the +Cafe d'Alger. I offered Anastasius to drive him to his hotel, but he +declined politely. We shook hands. + +"Monsieur," said he, "I have to make my heartfelt apologies for having +caused you so painful, so useless, and so expensive an evening. As for +the last aspect I will repay you." + +"You will do no such thing, Professor," said I. "My evening has, on +the contrary, been particularly useful and instructive. I wouldn't +have missed it for the world." + +And I drove off homewards, glad to be in my own company. + +Here was an imbroglio! The missing husband found and, like most +missing husbands, found to be entirely undesirable. And Lola, +obviously imagining her summons to be from me, was at that moment +speeding hither as fast as the /Marechal Bugeaud/ could carry her. If +I had discovered Captain Vauvenarde instead of Anastasius I would have +anathematised him as the most meddlesome, crazy little marplot that +ever looked like Napoleon the Third. But as the credit of the +discovery belonged to him and not to me, I could only anathematise +myself for my dilettanteism in the capacity of a private inquiry +agent. + +I went to bed and slept badly. The ludicrous scenes of the evening +danced before my eyes; the smoke-filled, sordid room, the ignoble +faces round the table, the foolish hullaballoo, the collapse of +Anastasius, my melodramatic intervention, and the ironical courtesy of +the fleshy Captain Vauvenarde. Also, in the small hours of the night, +Anastasius's gigantic combinations assumed a less trivial aspect. What +lunatic scheme was being hatched behind that dome-like brow? His +object in taking me to the club was obvious. He could not have got in +save under my protection. But what he had reckoned upon doing when he +got there Heaven and Anastasius Papadopoulos only knew. I was also +worried by the confounded little pain inside. + +On the following afternoon I went down to meet the steamer from +Marseilles. I more than expected to find the dwarf on the quay, but to +my relief he was not there. I had purposely kept my knowledge of +Lola's movements a secret from him, as I desired as far as possible to +conduct affairs without his crazy intervention. I was not sorry, too, +that he had not availed himself of my proposal to visit me that +morning and continue our conversation of the night before. The +grotesque as a decoration of life is valuable; as the main feature it +gets on your nerves. + +I stood on the sloping stone jetty among the crowd of Arab porters and +Europeans and watched the vessel waddle in. Lola and I, catching sight +of each other at the same time, waved handkerchiefs in an imbecile +manner, and when the vessel came alongside, and during the tedious +process of mooring, we regarded each other with photographic smiles. +She was wearing a squirrel coat and a toque of the same fur, and she +looked more like a splendid wild animal than ever. Something inside me +--not the little pain--but what must have been my heart, throbbed +suddenly at her beauty, and the throb was followed by a sudden sense +of shock at the realisation of my keen pleasure at the sight of her. A +wistful radiance shone in her face as she came down the gangway. + +"Oh, how kind, how good, how splendid of you to meet me!" she cried as +our hands clasped. "I was dreading, dreading, dreading that it might +be some one else." + +"And yet you came straight through," said I, still holding her hand-- +or, rather, allowing hers to encircle mine in the familiar grip. + +"Didn't you command me to do so?" + +I could not explain matters to her then and there among the hustle of +passengers and the bustle of porters. Besides, Rogers, who had come +down with the hotel omnibus, was at my side touching his hat. + +"I have ordered you a room and a private sitting-room with a balcony +facing the sea. Put yourself in charge of me and your luggage in +charge of Rogers and dismiss all thoughts of worry from your mind." + +"You are so restful," she laughed as we moved off. + +Then she scanned my face and said falteringly. "How thin and worn you +look! Are you worse?" + +"If you ask me such questions," said I, "I'll leave you with the +luggage in charge of Rogers. I am in resplendent health." + +She murmured that she wished she could believe me, and took my arm as +we walked down the jetty to the waiting cab. + +"It's good to hear your voice again," I said. "It's a lazy voice and +fits in with the lazy South." I pointed to the burnous-enveloped Arabs +sleeping on the parapet. "It's out of place in Cadogan Gardens." + +She laughed her low, rippling laugh. It was music very pleasant to +hear after the somewhat shrill cachinnation of the Misses Bostock of +South Shields. I was so pleased that I gave half a franc to a +pestilential Arab shoeblack. + +"That was nice of you," she said. + +"It was the act of an imbecile," I retorted. "I have now rendered it +impossible for me to enter the town again. How is Dale?" + +She started. "He's well. Busy with his election. I saw him the day +before I left. I didn't tell him I was coming to Algiers. I wrote from +Paris." + +"Telling him the reason?" + +She faced me and met my eyes and said shortly: "No." + +"Oh!" said I. + +This brought us to the cab. We entered and drove away. Then leaning +back and looking straight in front of her, she grasped my wrist and +said: + +"Now, my dear friend, tell me all and get it over." + +"My dear Madame Brandt--" I began. + +She interrupted me. "For goodness' sake don't call me that. It makes a +cold shiver run down my back. I'm either Lola to you or nothing." + +"Then, my dear Lola," said I, "the first thing I must tell you is that +I did not send for you." + +"What do you mean? The telegram?" + +"It was sent by Anastasius Papadopoulos." + +"Anastasius?" She bent forward and looked at me. "What is he doing +here?" + +"Heaven knows!" said I. "But what he has done has been to find Captain +Vauvenarde. I am glad he has done that, but I am deeply sorry he sent +you the telegram." + +"Sorry? Why?" + +"Because there was no reason for your coming," I said with unwonted +gravity. "It would have been better if you had stayed in London, and +it will be best if you take the boat back again to-morrow." + +She remained silent for a while. Then she said in a low voice: + +"He won't have me?" + +"He hasn't been asked," I said. "He will, as far as I can command the +situation, never be asked." + +On that I had fully determined; and, when she inquired the reason, I +told her. + +"I proposed that you should reunite yourself with an honourable though +somewhat misguided gentleman. I've had the reverse of pleasure in +meeting Captain Vauvenarde, and I regret to say, though he is still +misguided, he can scarcely be termed honourable. The term 'gentleman' +has still to be accurately defined." + +She made a writhing movement of impatience. + +"Tell me straight out what he's doing in Algiers. You're trying to +make things easy for me. It's the way of your class. It isn't the way +of mine. I'm used to brutality. I like it better. Why did he leave the +army and why is he in Algiers?" + +"If you prefer the direct method, my dear Lola," said I--and the name +came quite trippingly on my tongue--"I'll employ it. Your husband has +apparently been kicked out of the army and is now running a gambling- +hell." + +She took the blow bravely; but it turned her face haggard like a +paroxysm of physical pain. After a few moments' silence, she said: + +"It must have been awful for him. He was a proud man." + +"He is changed," I replied gently. "Pride is too hampering a quality +for a knight of industry to keep in his equipment." + +"Tell me how you met him," she said. + +I rapidly sketched the whole absurd history, from my encounter with +Anastasius Papadopoulos in Marseilles to my parting with him on the +previous night. I softened down, as much as I could, the fleshiness of +Captain Vauvenarde and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck, but I +portrayed the villainous physiognomies of his associates very neatly. +I concluded by repeating my assertion that our project had proved +itself to be abortive. + +"He must be pretty miserable," said Lola. + +"Devil a bit," said I. + +She did not answer, but settled herself more comfortably in the +carriage and relapsed into mournful silence. I, having said my say, +lit a cigarette. Save for the clanging past of an upward or downward +tram, the creeping drive up the hill through the long winding street +was very quiet; and as we mounted higher and left the shops behind, +the only sounds that broke the afternoon stillness were the driver's +raucous admonition to his horses and the wind in the trees by the +wayside. At different points the turns of the road brought to view the +panorama of the town below and the calm sweep of the bay. + +"Exquisite, isn't it?" I said at last, with an indicative wave of the +hand. + +"What's the good of anything being exquisite when you feel mouldy?" + +"It may help to charm away the mouldiness. Beauty is eternal and +mouldiness only temporal. The sun will go on shining and the sea will +go on changing colour long after our pains and joys have vanished from +the world. Nature is pitilessly indifferent to human emotion." + +"If so," she said, her intuition finding the weakness of my slipshod +argument, "how can it touch human mouldiness?" + +"I don't know," said I. "The poets will tell you. All you have to do +is to lie on the breast of the Great Mother and your heartache will go +from you. I've never tried it myself, as I've never been afflicted +with heartache." + +"Is that true?" she asked, womanlike catching at the personal. + +I smiled and nodded. + +"I'm glad on your account," she said sincerely. "It's the very devil +of an ache. I've always had it." + +"Poor Lola," said I, prompted by my acquired instinct of eumoiriety. +"I wish I could cure you." + +"You?" She gave a short little laugh and then turned her head away. + +"I had a very comfortable crossing," she remarked a moment later. + +I gave her into the keeping of the manager of the hotel and did not +see her again until she came down somewhat late for dinner. I met her +in the vestibule. She wore a closely fitting brown dress, which in +colour matched the bronze of her hair and in shape showed off her +lithe and generous figure. + +I thought it my duty to cheer her by a well-deserved compliment. + +"Are you aware," I said, with a low bow, "that you're a remarkably +handsome woman?" + +A perfectly unnecessary light came into her eyes and a superfluous +flush to her cheeks. "If I'm at least that to you, I'm happy," she +said. + +"You're that to the dullest vision. Follow the /maitre d'hotel/," said +I, as we entered the /salle a manger/, "and I'll walk behind in +reflected glory." + +We made an effective entrance. I declare there was a perceptible +rattle of soup-spoons laid down by the retired Colonels and maiden +ladies as we passed by. Colonel Bunnion returned my nod of greeting in +the most distracted fashion and gazed at Lola with the frank +admiration of British Cavalry. I felt foolishly proud and exhilarated, +and gave her at my table the seat commanding a view of the room. I +then ordered a bottle of champagne, which I am forbidden to touch. + +"It isn't often that I have the pleasure of dining with you," I said +by way of apology. + +"This is the very first time," she said. + +"And it's not going to be the last," I declared. + +"I thought you were going to ship me back to Marseilles to-morrow." + +She laughed lazily, meeting my eyes. I smiled. + +"It would be inhuman. I allow you a few day's rest." + +Indeed, now she was here I had a curious desire to keep her. I +regarded the failure of my eumoirous little plans with more than +satisfaction. I had done my best. I had found (through the dwarf's +agency) Captain Vauvenarde. I had satisfied myself that he was an +outrageous person, thoroughly disqualified from becoming Lola's +husband, and there was an end of the matter. Meanwhile Fate (again +through the agency of Anastasius) had brought her many hundreds of +miles away from Dale and had moreover brought her to me. I was +delighted. I patted Destiny on the back, and drank his health in +excellent Pommery. Lola did not know in the least what I meant, but +she smiled amiably and drank the toast. It was quite a merry dinner. +Lola threw herself into my mood and jested as if she had never heard +of an undesirable husband who had been kicked out of the French Army. +We talked of many things. I described in fuller detail my adventure +with Anastasius and Saupiquet, and we laughed over the debt of fifteen +sous and the elaborate receipt. + +"Anastasius," she said, "is childish in many ways--the doctors have a +name for it." + +"Arrested development." + +"That's it; but he is absolutely cracked on one point--the poisoning +of my horse Sultan. He has reams of paper which he calls the dossier +of the crime. You never saw such a collection of rubbish in your life. +I cried over it. And he is so proud of it, poor wee mite." She laughed +suddenly. "I should love to have seen you hobnobbing with him and +Saupiquet." + +"Why?" + +"You're so aristocratic-looking," she did me the embarrassing honour +to explain in her direct fashion. "You're my idea of an English duke." + +"My dear Lola," I replied, "you're quite wrong. The ordinary English +duke is a stout, middle-aged gentleman with a beard, and he generally +wears thick knickerbockers and shocking bad hats." + +"Do you know any?" + +"Two or three," I admitted. + +"And duchesses, too?" + +I again pleaded guilty. In these democratic days, if one is engaged in +public and social affairs one can't help running up against them. It +is their fault, not mine. + +"Do tell me about them," said Lola, with her elbows on the table. + +I told her. + +"And are earls and countesses just the same?" she asked with a +disappointed air. + +"Just the same, only worse. They're so ordinary you can't pick them +out from common misters and missuses." + +Saying this I rose, for we had finished our dessert, and proposed +coffee in the lounge. There we found Colonel Bunnion at so wilful a +loose end that I could not find it in my heart to refuse him an +introduction to Lola. He manifested his delight by lifting the skirt +of his dinner-jacket with his hands and rising on his spurs like a +bantam cock. I left her to him for a moment and went over to say a +civil word to the Misses Bostock of South Shields. I regret to say I +noticed a certain frigidity in their demeanour. The well-conducted man +in South Shields does not go out one night with a revolver tucked away +in the pocket of his dress-suit, and turn up the next evening with a +striking-looking lady with bronze hair. Such goings-on are seen on the +stage in South Shields in melodrama, and they are the goings-on of the +villain. In the eyes of the gentle ladies my reputation was gone. I +was trying to rehabilitate myself when the chasseur brought me a +telegram. I asked permission to open it, and stepped aside. + +The words of the telegram were like a ringing box on the ears. + + + "Tell me immediately why Lola has joined you in Algiers. + --KYNNERSLEY." + + +Not "Dale," mark you, as he has signed himself ever since I knew him +in Eton collars, but "Kynnersley." Why has Lola joined you? Why have +you run off with Lola? What's the reason of this treacherous +abduction? Account for yourself immediately. Stand and deliver. I +stood there gaping at the words like an idiot, my blood tingling at +the implied accusation. The peremptoriness of it! The impudence of the +boy! The wild extravagance of the idea! And yet, while my head was +reeling with one buffet a memory arose and gave me another on the +other side. I remembered the preposterous attitude in which Dale had +found us when he rushed from Berlin into Lola's drawing-room. + +I took the confounded telegram into a remote corner of the lounge, +like a dog with a bone, and growled over it for a time until the +humour of the situation turned the growl into a chuckle. Even had I +been in sound health and strength, the idea of running off with Lola +would have been absurd. But for me, in my present eumoirous +disposition of mind; for me, a half-disembodied spirit who had cast +all vain and disturbing human emotions into the mud of Murglebed-on- +Sea; for me who had a spirit's calm disregard for the petty passions +and interests of mankind and walked through the world with no other +object than healing a few human woes; for me who already saw death on +the other side of the river and found serious occupation in exchanging +airy badinage with him; for me with an abominable little pain inside +inexorably eating my life out and wasting me away literally and +perceptibly like a shadow and twisting me up half a dozen times a day +in excruciating agony; for me, in this delectable condition of soul +and this deplorable condition of body, to think of running hundreds of +miles from home with--to say the least of it--so inconvenient a +creature as a big, bronze-haired woman, the idea was inexpressibly and +weirdly comic. + +I stepped into the drawing-room close by and drew up a telegram to +Dale. + + + "Lady summoned by Papadopoulos on private affairs. Avoid lunacy + save for electioneering purposes.--SIMON." + + +Then I joined Lola and Colonel Bunnion. She was lying back in her +laziest and most pantherine attitude, and she looked up at me as I +approached with eyes full of velvet softness. For the life of me I +could not help feeling glad that they were turned on me and not on +Dale Kynnersley. + +Almost immediately the elder Miss Bostock came up to claim the Colonel +for bridge. He rose reluctantly. + +"I suppose it's no use asking you to make a fourth, Mr. de Gex?" she +asked, after the subacid manner of her kind. + +"I'm afraid not," I replied sweetly. Whereupon she rescued the Colonel +from the syren and left me alone with her. I lit a cigarette and sat +by her side. As she did not stir or speak I asked whether she was +tired. + +"Not very. I'm thinking. Do you know you've taught me an awful lot?" + +"I? What can I have taught you?" + +"The way people like yourself look at things. I'm treating Dale +abominably. I didn't realise it before." + +Now why on earth did she bring Dale in just at that moment. + +"Indeed?" said I. + +She nodded her head and said in her languorous voice: + +"He's over head and ears in love with me and thinks I care for him. I +don't. I don't care a brass button for him. I'm a bad influence in his +life, and the sooner I take myself out of it the better. Don't you +think so?" + +"You know my opinions," I said. + +"If I had followed your advice at first," she continued, "we needn't +have had all this commotion. And yet I'm not sorry." + +"What do you propose to do?" I asked. + +"Before deciding, I shall see my husband." + +"You shall do no such thing." + +She smiled. "I shall." + +I protested. Captain Vauvenarde had put himself outside the pale. He +was not fit to associate with decent women. What object could she have +in meeting him? + +"I want to judge for myself," she replied. + +"Judge what? Surely not whether he is eligible as a husband!" + +"Yes," she said. + +"But, my dear Lola," I cried, "the notion is as crazy as any of +Anastasius Papadopoulos's. Of course, as soon as he learns that you're +a rich woman, he'll want to live with you, and use your money for his +gaming-hell." + +"I am going to meet him," she said quietly. + +"I forbid it." + +"You're too late, dear friend. I wrote him a letter before dinner and +sent it to the Cercle Africain by special messenger. I also wrote to +Anastasius. I asked them both to see me to-morrow morning. That's why +I've been so gay this evening." + +At the sight of my blank face she laughed, and with one of her +movements rose from her chair. I rose too. + +"Are you angry with me?" + +"I thought I had walked out of a nightmare," I said. "I find I'm still +in it." + +"But don't be angry with me. It was the only way." + +"The only way to, or out of, what?" I asked, bewildered. + +"Never mind." + +She looked at me with a singular expression in her slumbrous eyes. It +was sad, wistful, soothing, and gave me the idea of a noble woman +making a senseless sacrifice. + +"There is no earthly reason to do this on account of Dale," I +protested. + +"Dale has nothing to do with it." + +"Then who has?" + +"Anastasius Papadopoulos," she said with undisguised irony. + +"I beg your pardon," I said rather stiffly, "for appearing to force +your confidence. But as I first put the idea of joining your husband +into your head and have enjoyed your confidence in the matter +hitherto, I thought I might claim certain privileges." + +As she had done before, she laid her hands on my shoulders--we were +alone in the alcove--and looked me in the eyes. + +"Don't make me cry. I'm very near it. And I'm tired to-night, and I'm +going to have a hellish time to-morrow. And I want you to do me a +favour." + +"What is that?" + +"When I'm seeing my husband, I'd like to know that you were within +call--in case I wanted you. One never knows what may happen. You will +come won't you, if I send for you?" + +"I'm always at your service," I said. + +She released my shoulders and grasped my hand. + +"Good-night," she said, abruptly, and rushed swiftly out of the room, +leaving me wondering more than I had ever wondered in my life at the +inscrutable ways of women. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +I am glad I devoted last night and the past hour this morning to +bringing up to date this trivial record, for I have a premonition that +the time is rapidly approaching when I shall no longer have the +strength of will or body to continue it. The little pain has increased +in intensity and frequency the last few days, and though I try to +delude myself into the belief that otherwise I am as strong as ever, I +know in my heart that I am daily growing weaker, daily losing +vitality. I shall soon have to call in a doctor to give me some +temporary relief, and doubtless he will put me to bed, feed me on +slops, cut off alcohol, forbid noise and excitement, and keep me in a +drugged, stupefied condition until I fall asleep, to wake up in the +Garden of Prosperpine. Death is nothing; it is the dying that is such +a nuisance. It is going through so much for so little. It is as bad as +the campaign before a parliamentary election. It offends one's sense +of proportion. In a well-regulated universe there would be no tedious +process of decay, either before or after death. You would go about +your daily avocation unconcerned and unwarned, and then at the moment +appointed by an inscrutable Providence for your dissolution--phew!-- +and your clothes would remain standing for a surprised second, and +then fall down in a heap without a particle of you inside them. If we +have to die, why doesn't Providence employ this simple and sensible +method? It would save such a lot of trouble. It would be so clean, so +painless, so picturesque. It would add to the interest of our walks +abroad. Fancy a stout, important policeman vanishing from his uniform +--the helmet falling over the collar, the tunic doubling in at the +belt, the knees giving way, and the unheard, merry laughter of the +disenuniformed spirit winging its way truncheonless into the Empyrean. + +But if you think you are going to get any fun out of dying in the +present inconvenient manner, you are mistaken. Believe one who is +trying. + +I will remain on my feet, however, as long as my will holds out. In +this way I may continue to be of service to my fellow creatures, and +procure for myself a happy lot or portion. Even this morning I have +been able to feel the throb of eumoiriety. A piteous letter came from +Latimer, and a substantial cheque lies on my table ready to be posted. +I wonder how much I have left? So long as it is enough to pay my +doctor's bills and funeral expenses, what does it matter? + + + +The last line of the above was written on December 21st. It is now +January 30th, and I am still alive and able to write. I wish I +weren't. But I will set down as plainly as I can what has happened in +the interval. + +I had just written the last word, seated at my hotel window in the +sunshine, and enjoying, in spite of my uncheerful thoughts, the scents +that rose from the garden, when I heard a knock at my door. At my +invitation to enter, Anastasius Papadopoulos trotted into the room in +a great state of excitement carrying the familiar bunch of papers. He +put his hat on the floor, pitched the papers into the hat, and ran up +to me. + +"My dear sir, don't get up, I implore you. And I won't sit down. I +have just seen the ever beautiful and beloved lady." + +I turned my chair away from the table, and faced him as he stood +blowing kisses with one little hand, while the other lay on his heart. +In a flash he struck a new gesture; he folded his arms and scowled. + +"I was with her. She was opening her inmost heart to me. She knows I +am her champion. A servant came up announcing Monsieur Vauvenarde. She +dismissed me. I have come to my patron and friend, the English +statesman. Her husband is with her now." + +I smiled. "Madame Brandt told me that she had asked for an interview." + +"And you allow it? You allow her to contaminate her beautiful presence +with the sight of that traitor, that cheat at cards, that murderer, +that devil? Ah, but I will not have it! I am her champion. I will save +her. I will save you. I will take you both away to Egypt, and surround +you with my beautiful cats, and fan you with peacock's feathers." + +This was sheer crackedness of brain. For the first time I feared for +the little man. When people begin to talk that way they are not +allowed to go about loose. He went on talking and the three languages +he used in his jargon got clotted to the point of unintelligibility. +He spoke very fast and, as far as I could understand, poured abuse on +the head of Captain Vauvenarde, and continued to declare himself +Lola's champion and my devoted friend. He stamped up and down the room +in his tightly buttoned frock-coat from the breastpocket of which +peeped the fingers of his yellow dogskin gloves. At last he stopped, +and drawing a chair near the window perched on it with a little hop +like a child. He held out his hand. + +"Do you believe I am your friend?" + +"I am sure of it, my dear Professor." + +"Then I'll betray a sacred confidence. The /carissima signora/ loves +you. You didn't know it. But she loves you." + +I stared for a moment at the dwarf as if he had been a reasonable +being. Something seemed to click inside my head, like a clogged cog- +wheel that had suddenly freed itself, and my mind went whirling away +straight through the past few weeks. I tried to smile, and I said: + +"You are quite mistaken." + +"Oh, no," he replied, wagging his Napoleonic head. "Anastasius +Papadopoulos is never mistaken. She told me so herself. She wept. She +put her beautiful arms round my neck and sobbed on my shoulder." + +I found myself reproving him gently. "You should not have told me +this, my dear Professor. Such confidences are locked up in the heart +of /un galant homme/, and are not revealed even to his dearest +friend." + +But my voice sounded hollow in my own ears, and what he said for the +next few minutes I do not remember. The little man had told the truth +to me, and Lola had told the truth to him. The realisation of it +paralysed me. Why had I been such a fool as not to see it for myself? +Memories of a hundred indications came tumbling one after another into +my head--the forgotten glove, the glances, the changes of mood, the +tears when she learned of my illness, the mysterious words, the abrupt +little "You?" of yesterday. The woman was in love, deeply in love, in +love with all the fervour of her big nature. And I had stood by and +wondered what she meant by this and by that--things that would have +been obvious to a coalheaver. I thought of Dale and I felt miserably +guilty, horribly ashamed. How could I expect him to believe me when I +told him that I had not wittingly stolen her affections from him. And +her affections? /Bon Dieu/! What on earth could I do with them? What +is the use of a woman's love to a dead man? And did I want it even for +the tiny remainder of life? + +Anastasius, perceiving that I paid but scant attention to his +conversation, wriggled off his chair and stood before me with folded +arms. + +"You adore each other with a great passion," he said. "She is my +Madonna, and you are my friend and benefactor. I will be your +protection and defence. I will never let her go away with that +infamous, gambling and murdering scoundrel. My gigantic combinations +have matured. I bless your union." + +He lifted his little arms in benediction. The situation was cruelly +comical. For a moment I hated the mournful-visaged, posturing monkey, +and had a wild desire to throw him out of the window and have done +with him. I rose and, towering over him, was about to lecture him +severely on his impertinent interference, when the sight of his scared +face made me turn away with a laugh. What would be the use of +reproaching him? He would only sit down on the floor and weep. So I +paced the room, while he followed me with his eyes like an uncertain +spaniel. + +"Look here, Professor," said I at last. "Now that you've found Captain +Vauvenarde, brought Madame Brandt and him together, and told me that +she is in love with me, don't you think you've done enough? Don't you +think your cats need your attention? Something terrible may be +happening to them. I dreamed last night," I added with desperate +mendacity, "that they were turned into woolly lambs." + +"Monsieur," said the dwarf loftily, "my duty is here. And I care not +whether my cats are turned into the angels of Paradise." + +I groaned. "You are wasting a great deal of money over this affair," I +urged. + +"What is money to my gigantic combinations?" + +"Tell me," I cried with considerable impatience. "What are your +confounded combinations?" + +He began to tremble violently. "I would rather die," said he, "than +betray my secret." + +"It's all some silly nonsense about that wretched horse!" I exclaimed. + +He covered his ears with his hands. "Blasphemy! Blasphemy! Don't utter +it!" + +In another moment he was cowering on his knees before me. + +"You, of all men, mustn't blaspheme. You whom I love like my master. +You whom the divine lady loves. I can't bear it!" He continued to +gibber unintelligibly. + +He was stark mad. There was no question of it. For a moment I stood +irresolute. Then I lifted him to his feet and patted his head +soothingly. + +"Never mind," said I. "I was wrong. It was a beautiful horse. There +never was such a horse in the world. If I had a picture of him I would +hang it up on the wall over my bed." + +"Would you?" he cried joyfully. "Then I will give you one." + +He trotted over to the bundle of papers that reposed in his hat on the +floor, searched through them, and to my dismay handed me a faded, +unmounted, and rather torn and crumpled photograph of the wonderful +horse. + +"There!" said he. + +"I could not rob you of it," I protested. + +"It will be my joy to know that you have it--that it is hanging over +your bed. See--have you a pin? I myself will fix it for you." + +While he was searching my table for pins the chasseur of the hotel +came with a message from Madame Brandt. Would Monsieur come at once to +Madame in her private room? + +"I'll come now," I said. "Professor, you must excuse me." + +"Don't mention it. I shall occupy myself in hanging the picture in the +most artistic way possible." + +So I left him, his mind apparently concentrated on the childish task +of pinning the photograph of the ridiculous horse on my bedroom wall, +and went with the most complicated feelings downstairs and through the +corridors to Lola's apartments. + +She rose to meet me as I entered. + +"It's very kind of you to come," she said in her fluent but Britannic +French. "May I present my husband, Monsieur Vauvenarde." + +Monsieur Vauvenarde and I exchanged bows. I noticed at once that he +wore the Frenchman's costume when he pays a /visite de ceremonie/, +frock-coat and gloves, and that a silk hat lay on the table. I was +glad that he paid her this mark of respect. + +"I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, Monsieur," said he, +"in circumstances somewhat different." + +"I remember perfectly," said I. + +"And your charming but inexperienced little friend--is he well?" + +"He is at present decorating my room with photographs of Madame's late +horse, Sultan," said I. + +He was startled, and gave me a quick, sharp look. I did not notice it +at the time, but I remembered it later. Then he broke into an +indulgent laugh. + +"The poor animal!" He turned to Lola. "How jealous I used to be of +him! And how quickly the time flies. But give yourself the trouble of +seating yourself, Monsieur." + +He motioned me to a chair and sat down. He was a man of polished +manner and had a pleasant voice. I guessed that in the days when he +paid court to Lola, he had been handsome in his dark Norman way, and +possessed considerable fascination. Evil living and sordid passions +had coarsened his features, produced bagginess under the eyes and a +shiftiness of glance. Idleness and an inverted habit of life were +responsible for the nascent paunch and the rolls of fat at the back of +his neck. He suggested the revivified corpse of a fine gentleman that +had been unnaturally swollen. I had disliked him at the Cercle +Africain; now I detested him heartily. The idea of Lola entering the +vitiated atmosphere of his life was inexpressibly repugnant to me. + +Contrary to her habit, Lola sat bolt upright on the stamped-velvet +suite, the palms of her hands pressing the seat on either side of her. +She caught the shade of disgust that swept over my face, and gave me a +quick glance that pleaded for toleration. Her eyes, though bright, +were sunken, like those of a woman who has not slept. + +"Monsieur," said Vauvenarde, "my wife informs me that to your +disinterested friendship is due this most charming reconciliation." + +"Reconciliation?" I echoed. "It was quickly effected." + +"/Mon Dieu/," he said. "I have always longed for the comforts of a +home. My wife has grown tired of a migratory existence. She comes to +find me. I hasten to meet her. There is nothing to keep us apart. The +reconciliation was a matter of a few seconds. I wish to express my +gratitude to you, and, therefore, I ask you to accept my most cordial +thanks." + +"It has always been a pleasure to me," said I very frigidly, "to place +my services at the disposal of Madame Brandt." + +"Vauvenarde, Monsieur," he corrected with a smile. + +"And is Madame Vauvenarde equally satisfied with the--reconciliation?" +I asked. + +"I think Monsieur Vauvenarde is somewhat premature," said Lola, with a +trembling lip. "There were conditions--" + +"A mere question of protocol." He waved an airy hand. + +"I don't know what that is," said Lola. "There are conditions I must +fix, and I thought the advice of my friend, Monsieur de Gex--" + +"Precisely, my dear Lola," he interrupted. "The principle is affirmed. +We are reconciled. I proceed logically. The first thing I do is to +thank Monsieur de Gex--you have a French name, Monsieur, and you +pronounce it English fashion, which is somewhat embarrassing-- But no +matter. The next thing is the protocol. We have no possibility of +calling a family council, and therefore, I acceded with pleasure to +the intervention of Monsieur. It is kind of him to burden himself with +our unimportant affairs." + +The irony of his tone belied the suave correctitude of his words. I +detested him more and more. More and more did I realise that the dying +eumoirist is capable of petty human passions. My vanity was being +sacrified. Here was a woman passionately in love with me proposing to +throw herself into another man's arms--it made not a scrap of +difference, in the circumstances, that the man was her husband--and +into the arms of such a man! Having known me to decline--etcetera, +etcetera! How could she face it? And why was she doing it? To save +herself from me, or me from herself? She knew perfectly well that the +little pain inside would precious soon settle that question. Why was +she doing it? I should have thought that the first glance at the puffy +reprobate would have been enough to show her the folly of her idea. +However, it was comforting to learn that she had not surrendered at +once. + +"If I am to have the privilege, Monsieur," said I, "of acting as a +family council, perhaps you may forgive my hinting at some of the +conditions that doubtless are in Madame's mind." + +"Proceed, Monsieur," said he. + +"I want to know where I am," said Lola in English. "He took everything +for granted from the first." + +"Are you willing to go back to him?" I asked also in English. + +She met my gaze steadily, and I saw a woman's needless pain at the +back of her eyes. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and said: + +"Under conditions." + +"Monsieur," said I in French, turning to Vauvenarde, "forgive us for +speaking our language." + +"Perfectly," said he, and he smiled meaningly and banteringly at us +both. + +"In the first place, Monsieur, you are aware that Madame has a little +fortune, which does not detract from the charm you have always found +in her. It was left her by her father, who, as you know, tamed lions +and directed a menagerie. I would propose that Madame appointed +trustees to administer this little fortune." + +"There is no necessity, Monsieur," he said. "By the law of France it +is hers to do what she likes with." + +"Precisely," I rejoined. "Trustees would prevent her from doing what +she liked with it. Madame has indeed a head for affairs, but she also +has a woman's heart, which sometimes interferes with a woman's head in +the most disastrous manner." + +"Article No. 1 of the protocol. /Allez toujours/, Monsieur." + +I went on, feeling happier. "The next article treats of a little +matter which I understand has been the cause of differences in the +past between Madame and yourself. Madame, although she has not entered +the arena for some time, has not finally abandoned it." I smiled at +the look of surprise on Lola's face. "An artist is always an artist, +Monsieur. She is willing, however, to renounce it for ever, if you, on +your side, will make quite a small sacrifice." + +"Name it, Monsieur." + +"You have a little passion for baccarat----" + +"Surely, Monsieur," said he blandly, "my wife would not expect me to +give up what is the mere recreation of every clubman." + +"As a recreation pure and simple--she would not insist too much, +but----" I shrugged my shoulders. I flatter myself on being able to do +it with perfect French expressiveness. I caught, to my satisfaction, +an angry gleam in his eye. + +"Do you mean to say, Monsieur, that I play for more than recreation?" + +"How dare I say anything, Monsieur. But Madame is prejudiced against +the Cercle Africain. For a bachelor there is little to be said against +it--but for a married man--you seize the point?" said I. + +"/Bien/, Monsieur," he said, swallowing his wrath. "And Article 3?" + +"Since you have left the army--would it not be better to engage in +some profession--unless your private fortune dispenses you from the +necessity." + +He said nothing but: "Article 4?" + +"It would give Madame comfort to live out of Algiers." + +"/Moi aussi/," he replied rather unexpectedly. "We have the whole of +France to choose from." + +"Would not Madame be happier if she lived out of France, also? She has +always longed for a social position." + +"/Eh, bien/? I can give her one in France." + +"Are you quite sure?" I asked, looking him in the eyes. + +"Monsieur," said he, rising and giving his moustache a swashbuckler +twist upward, "what are you daring to insinuate?" + +I leaned back in my chair and fingered the waxed ends of mine. + +"Nothing, Monsieur; I ask a simple question, which you surely can have +no difficulty in answering." + +"Your questions are the height of indiscretion," he cried angrily. + +"In that case, before we carry this interview further, the Family +Council and Madame would do well to have a private consultation." + +"Monsieur," he cried, completely losing his temper. "I forbid you to +use that tone to me. You are making a mock of me. You are insulting +me. I bore with you long enough to see how much further your insolence +would dare to go. I'm not to have a hand in the administration of my +wife's money? I'm to forsake a plentiful means of livelihood? I'm to +become a commercial traveller? I'm to expatriate myself? I'm to +explain, too, the reasons why I left the army? I would not condescend. +Least of all to you." + +"May I ask why, Monsieur?" + +"/Tonnerre de Dieu/!" He stamped his foot. "Do you take me for a fool? +Here I am--I came at my wife's request, ready to take her back as my +wife, ready to condone everything--yes, Monsieur, as a man of the +world--you think I have no eyes, no understanding--ready to take her +off your hands--" + +I leaped to my feet. + +"Monsieur!" I thundered. + +Lola gave a cry and rushed forward. I pushed her aside, and glared at +him. I was in a furious rage. We glared at each other eye to eye. I +pointed to the door. + +"/Monsieur, sortez/!" + +I went to it and flung it wide. Anastasius Papadopoulos trotted into +the room. + +His entrance was so queer, so unexpected, so anti-climatic, that for +the moment the three of us were thrown off our emotional balance. + +"I have heard all, I have heard all," shrieked the little man. "I know +you for what you are. I am the champion of the /carissima signora/ and +the protector of the English statesman. You are a traitor and +murderer--" + +Vauvenarde lifted his hand in a threatening gesture. + +"Hold your tongue, you little abortion!" he shouted. + +But Anastasius went on screaming and flourishing his bundle of papers. + +"Ask him if he remembers the horse Sultan; ask him if he remembers the +horse Sultan!" + +Lola took him by the shoulders. + +"Anastasius, you must go away from here--to please me. It's my +orders." + +But he shook himself free, and the silk hat which he had not removed +fell off in the quick struggle. + +"Ask him if he remembers Saupiquet," he screamed, and then banged the +door. + +A malevolent devil put a sudden idea into my head and prompted speech. + +"/Do/ you remember Saupiquet?" I asked ironically. + +"Monsieur, meddle with your own affairs and let me pass. You shall +hear from me." + +The dwarf planted himself before the door. + +"You shall not pass till you have answered me. Do you remember +Saupiquet? Do you remember the five francs you gave to Saupiquet to +let you into Sultan's stable? Ah! Ha! Ha! You wince. You grow pale. Do +you remember the ball of poison you put down Sultan's throat?" + +Lola started forward with flaming eyes and anguished face. + +"You--you?" she gasped. "You were so ignoble as to do that?" + +"The accursed brute!" shouted Vauvenarde. "Yes, I did it. I wish I had +burned out his entrails." + +Anastasius sprang at him like a tiger cat. I had a quick vision of the +dwarf clinging in the air against the other's bulky form, one hand at +his throat, and then of an incredibly swift flash of steel. The dwarf +dropped off and rolled backwards, revealing something black sticking +out of Vauvenarde's frock-coat--for the second I could not realise +what it was. Then Vauvenarde, with a ghastly face, reeled sideways and +collapsed in a heap on the ground. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Of what happened immediately afterwards I have but a confused memory. +I remember that Lola and I both fell on our knees beside the stabbed +man, and I remember his horrible staring eyes and open mouth. I +remember that, though she was white and shaky, she neither shrieked, +went into hysterics, nor fainted. I remember rushing down to the +manager; I remember running with him breathlessly through obscure +passages of the hotel in search of a doctor who was attending a sick +member of the staff. I remember the rush back, the doctor bending over +the body, which Lola had partially unclothed, and saying: + +"He is dead. The blade has gone straight through his heart." + +And I have in my mind the unforgettable and awful picture of +Anastasius Papadopoulos disregarded in a corner of the room, with his +absurd silk hat on--some reflex impulse had caused him to pick it up +and put it on his head--sitting on the floor amid a welter of +documents relating to the death of the horse Sultan, one of which he +was eagerly perusing. + +After this my memory is clear. It was only the first awful shock and +horror of the thing that dazed me. + +The man was dead, said the doctor. He must lie until the police +arrived and drew up the /proces-verbal/. The manager went to telephone +to the police, and while he was gone I told the doctor what had +occurred. Anastasius took no notice of us. Lola, holding her nerves +under iron control, stood bolt upright looking alternately at the +doctor and myself as we spoke. But she did not utter a word. Presently +the manager returned. The alarm had not been given in the hotel. No +one knew anything about the occurrence. Lola went into her bedroom and +came back with a sheet. The manager took it from her and threw it over +the dead man. The doctor stood by Anastasius. The end of a strip of +sunlight by the window just caught the dwarf in his corner. + +"Get up," said the doctor. + +Anastasius, without raising his eyes from his papers, waved him away. + +"I am busy. I am engaged on important papers of identification. He had +a white star on his forehead, and his tail was over a metre long." + +Lola approached him. + +"Anastasius," she said gently. He looked up with a radiant smile. "Put +away those papers." Like a child he obeyed and scrambled to his feet. +Then, seeing the unfamiliar face of the doctor for the first time, he +executed one of his politest and most elaborate bows. The doctor after +looking at him intently for a while, turned to me. + +"Mad. Utterly mad. Apparently he has no consciousness of what he has +done." + +He lured him to the sofa and sat beside him and began to talk in a low +tone of the contents of the papers. Anastasius replied cheerfully, +proud at being noticed by the stranger. The papers referred to a +precious secret, a gigantic combination, which he had spent years in +maturing. I shivered at the sound of his voice, and turned to Lola. + +"This is no place for you. Go into your bedroom till you are wanted." + +I held the door open for her. She put her hands up to her face and +reeled, and I thought she would have fallen; but she roused herself. + +"I don't want to break down--not yet. I shall if I'm left alone--come +and sit with me, for God's sake." + +"Very well," said I. + +She passed me and I followed; but at the door I turned and glanced +round the cheerful, sunny room. There, against the background of blue +sky and tree tops framed by the window, sat Anastasius Papadopoulos, +swinging his little legs and talking bombastically to the tanned and +grizzled doctor, and opposite stood the correctly attired hotel +manager in the attitude in which he habitually surveyed the lay-out of +the table d'hote, keeping watch beside the white-covered shape on the +floor. I was glad to shut the sight from my eyes. We waited silently +in the bedroom, Lola sitting on the bed and hiding her face in the +pillows, and I standing by the window and looking out at the smiling +mockery of the fair earth. An agonising spasm of pain--a /momento +mori/--shot through me and passed away. I thanked God that a few weeks +would see the end of me. I had always enjoyed the comedy of life. It +had been to me a thing of infinite jest. But this stupid, meaningless +tragedy was carrying the joke too far. My fastidiousness revolted at +its vulgarity. I no longer wished to inhabit a world where such jests +were possible. . . . I had never seen a man die before. I was +surprised at the swiftness and the ugliness of it. . . . I suddenly +realised that I was smoking a cigarette, which I was quite unconscious +of having lit. I threw it away. A minute afterwards I felt that if I +did not smoke I should go crazy. So I lit another. . . . The ghastly +silliness of the murder! . . . Colonel Bunnion's loud laugh rose from +the terrace below, jarring horribly on my ears. A long green praying +mantis that had apparently mounted on the bougainvillea against the +hotel wall appeared in meditative stateliness on the window-sill. I +picked the insect up absent-mindedly, and began to play with it. +Lola's voice from the bed startled me and caused me to drop the +mantis. She spoke hoarsely. + +"Tell me--what are they going to do with him?" + +I turned round. She had raised a crushed face from the pillows, and +looked at me haggardly. I noticed a carafe of brandy and a siphon by +the bedside. I mixed her a strong dose, and, before replying, made her +drink it. + +"They'll place him under restraint, that's all. He's not responsible +for his actions." + +"He did that once before--I told you--but without the knife--I wish I +could cry--I can't--You don't think it heartless of me--but my brain +is on fire--I shall always see it--I wish to God I had never asked him +to come--Why did I? My God, why did I?--It was my fault--I wanted to +see him--to judge for myself how much of the old Andre was left--there +was good in him once--I thought I might possibly help him--There was +nothing for me to do in the world--Without you any kind of old hell +was good enough--That's why I sent for him--When he came, after a bit, +I was afraid, and sent for you----" + +"Afraid of what?" I asked. + +"He asked me at once what money I had--Then there seemed to be no +doubt in his mind that I would join him--We spoke of you--the friend +who could advise me--He never said--what he said afterwards--I thought +it kind of him to consent to see you--I rang the bell and sent the +chasseur for you. I supposed Anastasius had gone home--I never thought +of him. The poor little man was sweet to me, just like a dog--a +silent, sympathetic dog--I spoke to him as I would to something that +wouldn't understand--all sorts of foolish things--Now and then a woman +has to empty her heart"--she shivered--her hands before her face. + +"It's my fault, it's my fault." + +"These things are no one's fault," I said gently. But just as I was +beginning to console her with what thumb-marked scraps of platitude I +could collect--the only philosophy after all, such is the futility of +systems, adequate to the deep issues of life--the door opened and the +manager announced that the police had arrived. + +We went through the ordeal of the /proces-verbal/. Anastasius, +confronted with his victim, had no memory of what had occurred. He +shrieked and shrank and hid his face in Lola's dress. When he was +forced to speak he declared that the dead man was not Captain +Vauvenarde. Captain Vauvenarde was at the Cercle Africain. He, +himself, was seeking him. He would take the gendarmes there, and they +could arrest the Captain for the murder of Sultan of which his papers +contained indubitable proofs. Eventually the poor little wretch was +led away in custody, proud and smiling, entirely convinced that he was +leading his captors to the arrest of Captain Vauvenarde. On the +threshold he turned and bowed to us so low that the brim of his silk +hat touched the floor. Then Lola's nerve gave way and she broke into a +passion of awful weeping. + +The /commissaire de police/ secured the long thin knife (how the dwarf +had managed to conceal it on his small person was a mystery) and the +bundle of documents, and accompanied me to my room to see whether he +had left anything there to serve as a /piece de conviction/. We found +only the crumpled picture of the horse Sultan neatly pinned against my +bedroom wall, and on the floor a ribbon tied like a garter with a +little bell opposite the bow. On it was written "Santa Bianca," and I +knew it was the collar of the beloved cat which he must have been +carrying about him for a talisman. The /commissaire/ took this also. + + + +If you desire to know the details of the judicial proceedings +connected with the murder of Andre Marie-Joseph Vauvenarde, ex-Captain +in the Chasseurs d'Afrique, and the trial of Anastasius Papadopoulos, +I must refer you to the Algerian, Parisian, and London Press. There +you will find an eagerly picturesque account of the whole miserable +affair. Now, not only am I unable to compete with descriptive verbatim +reporters on their own ground, but also a consecutive statement, +either bald or graphic, of the tedious horrors Lola Brandt and I had +to undergo, would be foreign to the purpose of these notes, however +far from their original purpose an ironical destiny has caused them to +wander. You know nearly all that is necessary for you to know, so that +when I am dead you may not judge me too harshly. The remainder I can +summarise in a few words. At any rate, I have told the truth, often +more naively than one would have thought possible for a man who prided +himself as much as I did on his epicurean sophistication. + +These have been days, as I say, of tedious horror. There have been +endless examinations, reconstructions of the crime, exposures in +daring publicity of the private lives of the protagonists of the +lunatic drama. The French judges and advocates have accepted the +account given by Lola and myself of our mutual relations with a +certain mocking credulity. The Press hasn't accepted it at all. It +took as a matter of course the view held by the none too noble victim. +At first, seeing Lola shrug her shoulders with supreme indifference as +to her own reputation, I cared but little for these insinuations. I +wrote such letters to my sisters and to Dale as I felt sure would be +believed, and let the long-eared, gaping world go hang. Besides, I had +other things to think of. Physical pain is insistent, and I have +suffered damnable torture. The pettiness of the legal inquiry has been +also a maddening irritation. Nothing has been too minute for the +attention of the French judiciary. It seemed as though the whole of +the evil gang of the Cercle Africain were called as witnesses. They +testified as to Captain Vauvenarde's part proprietorship of the hell-- +as to wrong practices that occurred there--as to the crazy conduct of +both Anastasius and myself on the occasion of my insane visit. +Officers of the Chasseurs d'Afrique were compelled further to blacken +the character of the dead man--he had been a notorious plucker of +pigeons during most of his military career, and when at last he was +caught red-handed palming the king at /ecarte/, he was forced to +resign his commission. Arabs came from the slums with appalling +stories. Even the stolid Saupiquet, dragged from Toulon, gave evidence +as to the five-franc bribe and the debt of fifteen sous, and +identified the horse Sultan by the crumpled photograph. Lola and I +have been racked day after day with questions--some, indeed, prompted +by the suspicion that Vauvenarde might have met his death directly by +our hand instead of that of Anastasius. It was the Procureur-general +who said: "It can be argued that you would benefit by the decease of +the defunct." I replied that we could not benefit in any way. My sole +object was to effect a reconciliation between husband and wife. "Will +you explain why you gave yourself that trouble?" I never have smiled +so grimly as I did then. How could I explain my precious pursuit of +the eumoirous to a French Procureur-general? How could I put before +him the point of view of a semi-disembodied spirit? I replied with +lame lack of originality that my actions proceeded from disinterested +friendship. "You are a pure altruist then?" said he. "Very pure," said +I. . . . It was only the facts of the scabbard of the knife having +been found attached to the dwarf's person beneath his clothes, and of +certain rambling menaces occurring in his Sultan papers that saved us +from the indignity of being arrested and put into the dock. . . . + +During all this time I remained at the hotel at Mustapha Superieur. +Lola moved to a suite of rooms in another hotel a little way down the +hill. I saw her daily. At first she shrank from publicity and refused +to go out, save in a closed carriage to the town when her presence was +necessary at the inquiries. But after a time I persuaded her to brave +the stare of the curious and stroll with me among the eucalyptus woods +above. We cut ourselves off from other human companionship and felt +like two lost souls wandering alone through mist. She conducted +herself with grave and simple dignity. . . . Once or twice she visited +Anastasius in prison. She found him humanely treated and not +despondent. He thought they had arrested him for the poisoning of the +horse, and laughed at their foolishness. As they refused to return him +his dossier, he occupied himself in reconstructing it, and wrote pages +and pages of incoherence to prove the guilt of Captain Vauvenarde. He +was hopelessly mad. . . . The bond of pain bound me very close to +Lola. + +"What are you going to do with your life?" I asked her one day. + +"So long as I have you as a friend, it doesn't greatly matter." + +"You forget," I said, "that you can't have me much longer." + +"Are you going to leave me? It's not because I have dragged you +through all this dirt and horror. Another woman might say that of +another man--but not I of you. Why are you going to leave me? I want +so little--only to see you now and then--to keep the heart in me." + +"Can't you realise, that what I said in London is true?" + +"No. I can't. It's unbelievable. You can't believe it yourself. If you +did, how could you go on behaving like anybody else--like me for +instance?" + +"What would you do if you were condemned to die?" + +She shuddered. "I should go mad with fear--I----" She broke off and +remained for some moments reflective, with knitted brow. Then she +lifted her head proudly. "No, I shouldn't. I should face it like you. +Only cowards are afraid. It's best to show things that you don't care +a hang for them." + +"Keep that sublime /je m'en fich'isme/ up when I'm dead and buried," +said I, "and you'll pull through your life all right. The only thing +you must avoid is the pursuit of eumoiriety." + +"What on earth is that?" she asked. + +"The last devastating vanity," said I. + +And so it is. + +"When you are gone," she said bravely, "I shall remember how strong +and true you were. It will make me strong too." + +I acquiesced silently in her proposition. In this age of flippancy and +scepticism, if a human soul proclaims sincerely its faith in the +divinity of a rabbit, in God's name don't disturb it. It is +/something/ whereto to refer his aspirations, his resolves; it is a +court of arbitration, at the lowest, for his spiritual disputes; and +the rabbit will be as effective an oracle as any other. For are not +all religions but the strivings of the spirit towards crystallisation +at some point outside the environment of passions and appetites which +is the flesh, so that it can work untrammelled: and are not all gods +but the accidental forms, conditioned by circumstance, which this +crystallisation takes? All gods in their anthropo-, helio-, thero-, or +what-not-morphic forms are false; but, on the other hand, all gods in +their spiritual essence are true. So I do not deprecate my prospective +unique position in Lola Brandt's hagiology. It was better for her soul +that I should occupy it. Even if I were about to live my normal life +out, like any other hearty human, marry and beget children, I doubt +whether I should attempt to shake my wife's faith in my heroical +qualities. + +This was but a fragment of one among countless talks. Some were +lighter in tone, others darker, the mood of man being much like a +child's balloon which rises or falls as the strata of air are more +rarefied or more dense. Perhaps during the time of strain, the +atmosphere was more often rarefied, and our conversation had the day's +depressing incidents for its topics. We rarely spoke of the dead man. +He was scarcely a subject for panegyric, and it was useless to dwell +on the memory of his degradation. I think we only once talked of him +deeply and at any length, and that was on the day of the funeral. His +brother, a manufacturer at Clermont-Ferrand, and a widowed aunt, +apparently his only two surviving relatives, arrived in Algiers just +in time to attend the ceremony. They had seen the report of the murder +in the newspapers and had started forthwith. The brother, during an +interview with Lola, said bitter things to her, reproaching her with +the man's downfall, and cast on her the responsibility of his death. + +"He spoke," she said, "as if I had suggested the murder and +practically put the knife into the poor crazy little fellow's hand." + +The Vauvenardes must have been an amiable family. + +"Before I came," she said a little while later, "I still had some +tenderness for him--a woman has for the only man that has been--really +--in her life. I wish I could feel it now. I wish I could feel some +respect even. But I can't. If I could, it would lessen the horror that +has got hold of me to my bones." + +It was a torture to her generous soul that she could not grieve for +him. She could only shudder at the tragedy. In her heart she grieved +more for Anastasius Papadopoulos, and in so doing she was, in her +feminine way, self-accusative of callous lack of human feeling. It was +my attempt to bring her to a more rational state of mind that caused +us to review the dead man's career, and recapitulate the unpleasing +incidents of the last interview. + +Of Captain Vauvenarde, no more. He has gone whither I am going. That +his soul may rest in peace is my earnest prayer. But I do not wish to +meet him. + +Lola went tearless and strong through the horrible ordeal of the +judicial proceedings. She said I gave her courage. Perhaps, +unconsciously, I did. It was only when the end came that she broke +down, although she knew exactly what the end would be. And I, too, +felt a lump in my throat when they sentenced Anastasius Papadopoulos +to the asylum, and I saw him for the last time, the living parody of +Napoleon III, frock-coated and yellow-gloved, the precious, newly +written dossier in his hand, as he disappeared with a mournful smile +from the court, after bowing low to the judge and to us, without +having understood the significance of anything that had happened. + +In the carriage that took us home she wept and sobbed bitterly. + +"I loved him so. He was the only creature on earth that loved me. He +loved me as only a dog can love--or an angel." + +I let her cry. What could I say or do? + + + +These have been weeks of tedious horror and pain. With the exception +of Colonel Bunnion, I have kept myself aloof from my fellow creatures +in the hotel, even taking my meals in my own rooms, not wishing to be +stared at as the hero of the scandal that convulsed the place. And +with regard to Colonel Bunnion shall I be accused of cynicism if I say +that I admitted him--not to my confidence--but to my company, because +I know that it delighted the honest but boring fellow to prove to +himself that he could rise above British prejudice and exhibit tact in +dealing with a man in a delicate position? For, mark you, all the +world--even those nearest and dearest to me as I soon discovered-- +believed that the wife of the man who was murdered before my eyes was +my mistress. Colonel Bunnion was kind, and he meant to be kind. He was +a gentleman for all his wearisomeness, and his kindness was such as I +could accept. But I know what I say about him is true. Ye gods! +Haven't I felt myself the same swelling pride in my broadmindedness? +When a man is going on my journey he does not palter with truth. + +Though I held myself aloof, as I say, from practically all my fellow +creatures here, I have not been cut off from the outside world. My +sisters, like this French court in Algiers, have accepted my statement +with polite incredulity. Their letters have been full of love, half- +veiled reproach, anxiety as to their social position, and an insane +desire to come and take care of me. This I have forbidden them to do. +The pain they would have inflicted on themselves, dear souls, would +have far outweighed the comfort I might have gained from their +ministrations. Then I have had piteous letters from Dale. + +". . . Your telegram reassured me, though I was puzzled. Now I get a +letter from Lola, telling me it's all off--that she never loved me-- +that she valued my youth and my friendship, but that it is best for us +not to meet again. What is the meaning of it, Simon? For Heaven's sake +tell me. I can't think of anything else. I can't sleep. I am going off +my head. . . ." + +Again. ". . . This awful newspaper report and your letter of +explanation--I have them side by side. Forgive me, Simon. I don't know +what to believe, where to turn. . . . I have looked up to you as the +best and straightest man I know. You must be. Yet why have you done +this? Why didn't you tell me she was married? Why didn't she tell me? +I can't write properly, my head is all on a buzz. The beastly papers +say you were living with her in Algiers--but you weren't, were you? It +would be too horrible. In fact, you say you weren't. But, all the +same, you have stolen her from me. It wasn't like you. . . . And this +awful murder. My God! you don't know what it all means to me. It's +breaking my heart. . . ." + +And Lady Kynnersley wrote--with what object I scarcely know. The +situation was far beyond the poor lady's by-laws and regulations for +the upbringing of families and the conduct of life. The elemental +mother in her battled on the side of her only son--foolishly, +irrationally, unkindly. Her exordium was as correct as could be. The +tragedy shocked her, the scandal grieved her, the innuendoes of the +Press she refused to believe; she sympathised with me deeply. But then +she turned from me to Dale, and feminine unreason took possession of +her pen. She bitterly reproached herself for having spoken to me of +Madame Brandt. Had she known how passionate and real was this +attachment, she would never have interfered. The boy was broken- +hearted. He accused me of having stolen her from him--his own words. +He took little interest in his electioneering campaign, spoke badly, +unconvincingly; spent hours in alternate fits of listlessness and +anger. She feared for her darling's health and reason. She made an +appeal to me who professed to love him--if it were honourably +possible, would I bring Madame Brandt back to him? She was willing now +to accept Dale's estimate of her worth. Could I, at the least, prevail +on Madame Brandt to give him some hope--of what she did not know--but +some hope that would save him from ruining his career and "doing +something desperate"? + +And another letter from Dale: + +". . . I can't work at this election. For God's sake, give her back to +me. Then I won't care. What is Parliament to me without her? And the +election is as good as lost already. The other side has made as much +as possible of the scandal. . . ." + +The only letters that have not been misery to read have come from +Eleanor Faversham. There was one passage which made me thank God that +He had created such women as Eleanor-- + +"Don't fret over the newspaper lies, dear. Those who love you--and why +shouldn't I love you still?--know the honourable gentleman that you +are. Write to me if it would ease your heart and tell me just what you +feel you can. Now and always you have my utter sympathy and +understanding." + +And this is the woman of whose thousand virtues I dared to speak in +flippant jest. + +Heaven forgive me. + +After receiving Lady Kynnersley's appeal, I went to Lola. It was just +before the case came on at the Cour d'Assises. She had finished +luncheon in her private room and was sitting over her coffee. I joined +her. She wore the black blouse and skirt with which I have not yet +been able to grow familiar, as it robbed her of the peculiar +fascinating quality which I have tried to suggest by the word +pantherine. Coffee over, we moved to the window which opened on a +little back garden--the room was on the ground floor--in which grew +prickly pear and mimosa, and newly flowering heliotrope. I don't know +why I should mention this, except that some scenes impress themselves, +for no particular reason, on the memory, while others associated with +more important incidents fade into vagueness. I picked a bunch of +heliotrope which she pinned at her bosom. + +"Lola," I said, "I want to speak to you seriously." + +She smiled wanly: "Do we ever speak otherwise these dreadful days?" + +"It's about Dale. Read this," said I, and I handed her Lady +Kynnersley's letter. She read it through and returned it to me. + +"Well?" + +"I asked you a week or two ago what you were going to do with your +life," I said. "Does that letter offer you any suggestion?" + +"I'm to give him some hope--what hope can I give him?" + +"You're a free woman--free to marry. For the boy's sake the mother +will consent. When she knows you as well as we know you she will--" + +"She will--what? Love me?" + +"She's a woman not given to loving--except, in unexpected bursts, her +offspring. But she will respect you." + +She stood for a few moments silent, her arm resting against the window +jamb and her head on her arm. She remained there so long that at last +I rose and, looking at her face, saw that her eyes were full of tears. +She dashed them away with the back of her hand, gave me a swift look, +and went and sat in the shadow of the room. An action of this kind on +the part of a woman signifies a desire for solitude. I lit a cigarette +and went into the garden. + +It was a sorry business. I saw as clearly as Lola that Lady Kynnersley +desired to purchase Dale's immediate happiness at any price, and that +the future might bring bitter repentance. But I offered no advice. I +have finished playing at Deputy Providence. A madman letting off +fireworks in a gunpowder factory plays a less dangerous game. + +Presently she joined me and ran her arm through mine. + +"I'll write to Dale this afternoon," she said. "Don't let us talk of +it any more now. You are tired out. It's time for you to go and lie +down. I'll walk with you up the hill." + +It has come to this, that I must lie down for some hours during the +day lest I should fall to pieces. + +"I suppose I'll have to," I laughed. "What a thing it is to have the +wits of a man and the strength of a baby." + +She pressed my arm and said in her low caressing voice which I had not +heard for many weeks: "I shouldn't be so proud of those man's wits, if +I were you." + +I knew she said it playfully with reference to masculine non- +perception of the feminine; but I chose to take it broadly. + +"My dear Lola," said I, "it has been borne in upon me that I am the +most witless fool that the unwisdom of generations of English country +squires has ever succeeded in producing." + +"Don't talk rot," she said, with foolishness in her eyes. + +She accompanied me bareheaded in the sunshine to the gate of my hotel. + +"Come and dine with me, if you're well enough," she said as we parted. + +I assented, and when the evening came I went. Did I not say that we +were like two lost souls wandering alone in the mist? + +It was only when I rose to bid her good-night that she referred to +Dale. + +"I wrote to him this afternoon," she announced curtly. + +"You said you would do so." + +"Would you like to know what I told him?" + +She put her hands behind her back and stood facing me, somewhat +defiantly, in all her magnificence. I smiled. Women, much as they +scoff at the blindness of our sex, are often transparent. + +"It's your firm determination to tell me," said I. "Well?" + +She advanced a step nearer to me, and looked me straight in the eyes +defiantly. + +"I told him that I loved you with all my heart and all my soul. I told +him that you didn't know it; that you didn't care a brass curse for +me; that you had acted as you thought best for the happiness of +himself and me. I told him that while you lived I could not think of +another man. I told him that if you could face Death with a smile on +your face, he might very well show the same courage and not chuck +things right and left just because a common woman wouldn't marry him +or live with him and spoil his career. There! That's what I told him. +What do you think?" + +"Heaven knows what effect it will have," said I, wearily, for I was +very, very tired. "But why, my poor Lola, have you wasted your love on +a shadow like me?" + +She answered after the foolish way of women. + + + +I have not heard from either Dale or Lady Kynnersley. A day or two +ago, in reply to a telegram to Raggles, I learned that Dale had lost +the election. + +This, then, is the end of my /apologia pro vita mea/, which I began +with so resonant a flourish of vainglory. I have said all that there +is to be said. Nothing more has happened or is likely to happen until +they put me under the earth. Oh, yes, I was forgetting. In spite of my +Monte Cristo munificence, poor Latimer has been hammered on the Stock +Exchange. Poor Lucy and the kids! + +I shall have, I think, just enough strength left to reach Mentone-- +this place is intolerable now--and there I shall put myself under the +care of a capable physician who, with his abominable drugs, will +doubtless begin the cheerful work of inducing the mental decay which I +suppose must precede physical dissolution. + +I must confess that I am disappointed with the manner of my exit. I +had imagined it quite different. I had beheld myself turning with a +smile and a jest for one last view of the faces over which I, in my +eumoirous career, had cast the largesse of happiness, and the +vanishing with a gallant carelessness through the dusky portals. +Instead of that, here am I sneaking out of life by the back door, +covering my eyes for very shame. And glad? Oh, God, how glad I am to +slink out of it! + +I have indeed accomplished the thing which I set out to do. I have +severed a boy from the object of his passion. What an achievement for +the crowning glory of a lifetime! And at what a cost: one fellow- +creature's life and another's reason. On me lies the responsibility. +Vauvenarde, it is true, did not adorn this grey world, but he drew the +breath of life, and, through my jesting agency, it was cut off. +Anastasius Papadopoulos, had he not come under my malign influence +would have lived out his industrious, happy and dream-filled days. +Lesser, but still great price, too, has been paid. Jealous hatred, +misery and failure for the being I care most for in the world, the +shame of a sordid scandal to those that hold me dear, the hopeless +love and speedy mourning of a woman not without greatness. + +I have tried to make a Tom Fool of Destiny--and Destiny has proved +itself to be the superior jester of the two, and has made a grim and +bedraggled Tom Fool of me. + + . . . I must end this. I have just fallen in a faint on the floor, +and Rogers has revived me with some drops Hunnington had given me in +view of such a contingency. + +These are the last words I shall write. Life is too transcendentally +humorous for a man not to take it seriously. Compared with it, Death +is but a shallow jest. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +It is many weeks since I wrote those words which I thought were to be +my last. I read them over now, and laugh aloud. Life is more +devilishly humorous than I in my most nightmare dreams ever imagined. +Instead of dying at Mentone as I proposed, I am here, at Mustapha +Superieur, still living. And let me tell you the master joke of the +Arch-Jester. + +I am going to live. + +I am not going to die. I am going to live. I am quite well. + +Think of it. Is it farcical, comical, tragical, or what? + +This is how it has befallen. The last thing I remember of the old +conditions was Rogers packing my things, and a sudden, awful, +excruciating agony. I lost consciousness, remained for days in a +bemused, stupefied state, which I felt convinced was death, and found +particularly pleasant. At last I woke to a sense of bodily +constriction and discomfort, and to the queer realisation that what I +had taken for the Garden of Prosperpine was my own bedroom, and that +the pale lady whom I had so confidently assumed was she who, crowned +with calm leaves, "gathers all things mortal with cold, immortal +hands" was no other than a blue-and-white-vested hospital nurse. + +"What the----" I began. + +"Chut!" she said, flitting noiselessly to my side. "You mustn't talk." +And then she poured something down my throat. I lay back, wondering +what it all meant. Presently a grizzled and tanned man, wearing a +narrow black tie, came into the room. His face seemed oddly familiar. +The nurse whispered to him. He came up to the bed, and asked me in +French how I felt. + +"I don't know at all," said I. + +He laughed. "That's a good sign. Let me see how you are getting on." +He stuck a thermometer in my mouth and held my pulse. These +formalities completed, he turned up the bedclothes and did something +with my body. Only then did I realise that I was tightly bandaged. My +impressions grew clearer, and when he raised his face I recognised the +doctor who had sat on the sofa with Anastasius Papadopoulos. + +"Nothing could be better," said he. "Keep quiet, and all will be +well." + +"Will you kindly explain?" I asked. + +"You've had an operation. Also a narrow escape." + +I smiled at him pityingly. "What is the good of taking all this +trouble? Why are you wasting your time?" + +He looked at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then he laughed as +the light came to him. + +"Oh, I understand! Yes. Your English doctors had told you you were +going to die. That an operation would be fatal--so your good friend +Madame Brandt informed us--but we--/nous autres Francais/--are more +enterprising. Kill or cure. We performed the operation--we didn't kill +you--and here you are--cured." + +My heart sickened with a horrible foreboding. A clamminess, such as +others feel at the approach of death, spread over my brow and neck. + +"Good God!" I cried, "you are not trying to tell me that I'm going to +live?" + +"Why, of course I am!" he exclaimed, brutally delighted. "If nothing +else kills you, you'll live to be a hundred." + +"Oh, damn!" said I. "Oh, damn! Oh, damn!" and the tears of physical +weakness poured down my cheeks. + +"/Ce sont des droles de gens, les Anglais/!" I heard him whisper to +the nurse before he left the room. + +Belonging to a queer folk or not, I found the prospect more and more +dismally appalling according as my mind regained its clarity. It was +the most overwhelming, piteous disappointment I have ever experienced +in my life. I cursed in my whimpering, invalid fashion. + +"But don't you want to get well?" asked the wide-eyed nurse. + +"Certainly not! I thought I was dead, and I was very happy. I've been +tricked and cheated and fooled," and I dashed my fist against the +counterpane. + +"If you go on in this way," said the nurse, "you will commit suicide." + +"I don't care!" I cried--and then, they tell me, fainted. My +temperature also ran up, and I became lightheaded again. It was not +until the next day that I recovered my sanity. This time Lola was in +the room with the nurse, and after a while the latter left us +together. Even Lola could not understand my paralysing dismay. + +"But think of it, my dear friend," she argued, "just think of it. You +are saved--saved by a miracle. The doctor says you will be stronger +than you have ever been before." + +"All the more dreadful will it be," said I. "I had finished with life. +I had got through with it. I don't want a second lifetime. One is +quite enough for any sane human being. Why on earth couldn't they have +let me die?" + +Lola passed her cool hand over my forehead. + +"You mustn't talk like that--Simon," she said, in her deepest and most +caressing voice, using my name somewhat hesitatingly, for the first +time. "You mustn't. A miracle really has been performed. You've been +raised from the dead--like the man in the Gospel----" + +"Yes," said I petulantly, "Lazarus. And does the Gospel tell us what +Lazarus really thought of the unwarrantable interference with his +plans? Of course he had to be polite--" + +"Oh, don't!" cried, Lola, shocked. In a queer unenlightened way, she +was a religious woman. + +"I'm sorry," said I, feeling ashamed of myself. + +"If you knew how I have prayed God to make you well," she said. "If I +could have died for you, I would--gladly--gladly----" + +"But I wanted to die, my dear Lola," I insisted, with the egotism of +the sick. "I object to this resuscitation. I say it is monstrous that +I should have to start a second lifetime at my age. It's all very well +when you begin at the age of half a minute--but when you begin at +eight-and-thirty years----" + +"You have all the wisdom of eight-and-thirty years to start with." + +"There is only one thing more disastrous to a man than the wisdom of +thirty-eight years," I declared with mulish inconvincibility, "and +that is the wisdom he may accumulate after that age." + +She sighed and abandoned the argument. "We are going to make you well +in spite of yourself," she said. + +They, namely, the doctor, the nurse, and Lola, have done their best, +and they have succeeded. But their task has been a hard one. The +patient's will to live is always a great factor in his recovery. My +disgust at having to live has impeded my convalescence, and I fully +believe that it is only Lola's tears and the doctor's frenzied appeals +to me not to destroy the one chance of his life of establishing a +brilliant professional reputation that have made me consent to face +existence again. + +As for the doctor, he was pathetically insistent. + +"But you must get well!" he gesticulated. "I am going to publish it, +your operation. It will make my fortune. I shall at last be able to +leave this hole of an Algiers and go to Paris! You don't know what +I've done for you! I've performed an operation on you that has never +been performed successfully before. I thought it had been done, but I +found out afterwards my English /confreres/ were right. It hasn't. +I've worked a miracle in surgery, and by my publication will make you +as the subject of it famous for ever. And here you are trying to die +and ruin everything. I ask you--have you no human feelings left?" + +At the conclusion of these lectures I would sigh and laugh, and +stretch out a thin hand. He shook it always with a humorous grumpiness +which did me more good than the prospect of acquiring fame in the +annals of the /Ecole de Medicine/. + +Here am I, however, cured. I have thrown away the stick with which I +first began to limp about the garden, and I discourage Lola and Rogers +in their efforts to treat me as an invalid. Like the doctor, I have +been longing to escape from "this hole of an Algiers" and its painful +associations, and, when I was able to leave my room, it occurred to me +that the sooner I regained my strength the sooner should I be able to +do so. Since then my recovery has been rapid. The doctor is delighted, +and slaps me on the back, and points me out to Lola and the manager +and the concierge and the hoary old sinner of an Arab who displays his +daggers, and trays, and embroideries on the terrace, as a living +wonder. I believe he would like to put me in a cage and carry me about +with him in Paris on exhibition. But he is reluctantly prepared to +part with me, and has consented to my return in a few days' time, to +England, by the North German Lloyd steamer. He has ordered the sea +voyage as a finishing touch to my cure. Good, deluded man, he thinks +that it is his fortuitous science that has dragged me out of the +Valley of the Shadow and set me in the Garden of Life. Good, deluded +man! He does not realise that he has been merely the tool of the Arch- +Jester. He has no notion of the sardonic joke his knife was chosen to +perpetrate. That naked we should come into the world, and naked we +should go out is a time-honoured pleasantry which, as far as the +latter part of it is concerned, I did my conscientious best to +further; but that we should come into it again naked at the age of +eight-and-thirty is a piece of irony too grim for contemplation. Yet +am I bound to contemplate it. It grins me in the face. Figuratively, I +am naked. + +Partly by my own act, and partly with the help of Destiny (the greater +jester than I) I have stripped myself of all these garments of life +which not only enabled me to strut peacock-fashion in the pleasant +places of the world, but also sheltered me from its inclemencies. + +I had wealth--not a Rothschild or Vanderbilt fortune but enough to +assure me ease and luxury. I have stripped myself of it. I have but a +beggarly sum remaining at my bankers. Practically I am a pauper. + +I had political position. I surrendered it as airily as I had achieved +it; so airily, indeed, that I doubt whether I could regain it even had +I the ambition. For it was a game that I played, sometimes +fascinating, sometimes repugnant to my fastidious sense of honourable +dealing, for which I shall never recapture the mood. Mood depends on +conditions, and conditions, as I am trying to show, are changed. + +I had social position. I did not deceive myself as to its value in the +cosmic scheme, but it was one of the pleasant things to which I was +born, just as I was born to good food and wines and unpatched boots +and the morning hot water brought into my bedroom. I liked it. I +suspect that it has fled into eternity with the spirit of Captain +Vauvenarde. The penniless hero of an amazing scandal is not usually +made an idol of by the exclusive aristocracy of Great Britain. + +I had a sweet and loyal woman about to marry me. I put Eleanor +Faversham for ever out of my life. + +I had the devotion and hero-worship of a lad whom I thought to train +in the paths of honour, love and happiness. In his eyes I suppose I am +an unconscionable villain. + +I have stripped myself of everything; and all because the medical +faculty of my country sentenced me to death. I really think the Royal +Colleges of Surgeons and Physicians ought to pay me an indemnity. + +And not only have I stripped myself of everything, but I have incurred +an incalculable debt. I owe a woman the infinite debt of her love +which I cannot repay. She sheds it on me hourly with a lavishness +which scares me. But for her tireless devotion, the doctor tells me, I +should not have lived. But for her selfish forbearance, sympathy, and +compassion I should have gone as crazy as Anastasius Papadopoulos. Yet +the burden of my debt lies iceberg cold on my heart. Now that we are +as intimate as man and woman who are still only friends can be, she +has lost the magnetic attraction, that subtle mystery of the woman-- +half goddess, half panther--which fascinated me in spite of myself, +and made me jealous of poor young Dale. Now that I can see things in +some perspective, I confess that, had I not been under sentence of +death, and, therefore, profoundly convinced that I was immune from all +such weaknesses of the flesh, I should have realised the temptation of +languorous voice and sinuous limbs, of the frank radiation of the +animal enchanted as it was by elusive gleams of the spiritual, of the +Laisdom--in a word, of all the sexual damnability of a woman which, as +Francois Villon points out, set Sardanapalus to spin among the women, +David to forget the fear of God, Herod to slay the Baptist, and made +Samson lose his sight. Whether I should have yielded to or resisted +the temptation is another matter. Honestly speaking, I think I should +have resisted. + +You see, I should still have been engaged to Eleanor Faversham. . . . +But now this somewhat unholy influence is gone from her. She has +lifted me in her strong arms as a mother would lift a brat of ten. She +has patiently suffered my whimsies as if I had been a sick girl. She +has become to me the mere great mothering creature on whom I have +depended for custard and the removal of crumbs and creases from under +my body, and for support to my tottering footsteps. The glamour has +gone from before my eyes. I no longer see her invested in her queer +splendour. . . . + +My invalid peevishness, too, has accentuated my sensitiveness to +shades of refinement. There is about Lola a bluffness, a hardihood of +speech, a contempt for the polite word and the pretty conventional +turning of a phrase, a lack of reticence in the expression of ideas +and feelings, which jar, in spite of my gratitude, on my unstrung +nerves. Her ignorance, too, of a thousand things, a knowledge of which +is the birthright of such women as Eleanor Faversham, causes +conversational excursions to end in innumerable blind alleys. I know +that she would give her soul to learn. This she has told me in so many +words, and when, in a delicate way, I try to teach her, she listens +humbly, pathetically, fixing me with her great, gold-flecked eyes, +behind which a deep sadness burns wistfully. Sometimes when I glance +up from my book, I see that her eyes, instead of being bent on hers +have been resting long on my face, and they say as clearly as +articulate speech: "Teach me, love me, use me, do what you will with +me. I am yours, your chattel, your thing, till the end of time." + +I lie awake at night and wonder what I shall do with my naked life +sheltered only by the garment of this woman's love, which I have +accepted and cannot repay. I groan aloud when I reflect on the +irremediable mess, hash, bungle I have made of things. Did ever sick +man wake up to such a hopeless welter? Can you be surprised that I +regarded it with dismay? Of course, there is a simple way out of it, +and into the shadowy world which I contemplated so long, at first with +mocking indifference and then with eager longing. A gentleman called +Cato once took it, with considerable aplomb. The means are to my hand. +In my drawer lies the revolver with which the excellent Colonel +Bunnion (long since departed from Mustapha Superieur) armed me against +the banditti of Algiers, and which I forgot to return to him. I could +empty one or more of the six chambers into my person and that would be +the end. But I don't think history records the suicide of any +humorist, however dismal. He knows too well the tricks of the Arch- +Jester's game. Very likely I should merely blow away half my head, and +Destiny would give my good doctor another chance of achieving immortal +fame by glueing it on again. No, I cannot think seriously of suicide +by violent means. Of course, I might follow the example of one +Antonios Polemon, a later Greek sophist, who suffered so dreadfully +from gout that he buried himself alive in the tomb of his ancestors +and starved to death. We have a family vault in Highgate Cemetery, of +which I possess the key. . . . No, I should be bored and cold, and the +coffins would get on my nerves; and besides, there is something +suggestive of smug villadom in the idea of going to die at Highgate. + +Lola came up as I was scribbling this on my knees in the garden. + +"What are you writing there?" + +"I am recasting Hamlet's soliloquy," I replied, "and I feel all the +better for it." + +"Here is your egg and brandy." + +I swallowed it and handed her back the glass. + +"I feel all the better for that, too." + +As I sat in the shade of the little stone summer-house within the +Greek portico, she lingered in the blazing sunshine, a figure all +glorious health and supple curves, and the stray brown hairs above the +brown mass gleamed with the gold of a Giotto aureole. She stood, a +duskily glowing, radiant emblem of life against the background of +spring greenery and rioting convolvulus. I drew a full breath and +looked at her as if magnetised. I had the very oddest sensation. She +seemed, in Shakespearean phrase, to rain influence upon me. As if she +read the stirrings of my blood, she smiled and said: + +"After all, confess, isn't it good to be alive?" + +A thrill of physical well-being swept through me. I leaped to my feet. + +"You witch!" I cried. "What are you doing to me?" + +"I?" She retreated a step, with a laugh. + +"Yes, you. You are casting a spell on me, so that I may eat my words." + +"I don't know what you are talking about, but you haven't answered my +question. It /is/ good to be alive." + +"Well, it is," I assented, losing all sense of consistency. + +She flourished the egg-and-brandy glass. "I'm so glad. Now I know you +are really well, and will face life as you faced death, like the brave +man that you are." + +I cried to her to hold. I had not intended to go as far as that. I +confronted death with a smile; I meet life with the wriest of wry +faces. She would have none of my arguments. + +"No matter how damnable it is--it's splendid to be alive, just to feel +that you can fight, just to feel that you don't care a damn for any +old thing that can happen, because you're strong and brave. I do want +you to get back all that you've lost, all that you've lost through me, +and you'll do it. I know that you'll do it. You'll just go out and +smash up the silly old world and bring it to your feet. You will, +Simon, won't you? I know you will." + +She quivered like an optimistic Cassandra. + +"My dear Lola," said I. + +I was touched. I took her hand and raised it to my lips, whereat she +flushed like a girl. + +"Did you come here to tell me all this?" + +"No," she replied simply. "It came all of a sudden, as I was standing +here. I've often wanted to say it. I'm glad I have." + +She threw back her head and regarded me a moment with a strange, proud +smile; then turned and walked slowly away, her head brushing the long +scarlet clusters of the pepper trees. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The other day, while looking through a limbo of a drawer wherein have +been cast from time to time a medley of maimed, half-soiled, abortive +things, too unfitted for the paradise of publication, and too good (so +my vanity will have it) for the damnation of the waste-paper basket, I +came across, at the very bottom, the manuscript of the preceding +autobiographical narrative, the last words of which I wrote at +Mustapha Superieur three years ago. At first I carried it about with +me, not caring to destroy it and not knowing what in the world to do +with it until, with the malice of inanimate things, the dirty dog's- +eared bundle took to haunting me, turning up continually in +inconvenient places and ever insistently demanding a new depository. +At last I began to look on it with loathing; and one day in a fit of +inspiration, creating the limbo aforesaid, I hurled the manuscript, as +I thought, into everlasting oblivion. I had no desire to carry on the +record of my life any further, and there, in limbo, it has remained +for three years. But the other day I took it out for reference; and +now as I am holiday-making in a certain little backwater of the world, +where it is raining in a most unholiday fashion, it occurs to me that, +as everything has happened to me which is likely to happen (Heaven +knows I want no more excursions and alarums in my life's drama), I may +as well bring the narrative up to date. I therefore take up the +thread, so far as I can, from where I left off. + +Lola, having nothing to do in Algiers, which had grown hateful to us +both, accompanied me to London. As, however, the weather was rough, +and she was a very bad sailor, I saw little of her on the voyage. For +my own part, I enjoyed the stormy days, the howling winds and the +infuriated waves dashing impotently over the steamer. They filled me +with a sense of conflict and of amusement. It is always good to see +man triumphing over the murderous forces of nature. It puts one in +conceit with one's kind. + +At Waterloo I handed Lola over to her maid, who had come to meet her, +and, leaving Rogers in charge of my luggage, I drove homeward in a +cab. + +It was only as I was crossing Waterloo Bridge and saw the dark mass of +the Houses of Parliament looming on the other side of the river, and +the light in the tower which showed that the House was sitting, that I +began to realise my situation. As exiles in desert lands yearn for +green fields, so yearned I for those green benches. In vain I +represented to myself how often I had yawned on them, how often I had +cursed my folly in sitting on them and listening to empty babble when +I might have been dining cosily, or talking to a pretty woman or +listening to a comic opera, or performing some other useful and soul- +satisfying action of the kind; in vain I told myself what a monument +of futility was that building; I longed to be in it and of it once +again. And when I realised that I yearned for the impossible, my heart +was like a stone. For, indeed, I, Simon de Gex, with London once a toy +to my hand, was coming into it now a penniless adventurer to seek my +fortune. + +The cab turned into the Strand, which greeted me as affably as a +pandemonium. Motor omnibuses whizzed at me, cabs rattled and jeered at +me, private motors and carriages passed me by in sleek contempt; +policemen regarded me scornfully as, with uplifted hand regulating the +traffic, they held me up; pavements full of people surged along +ostentatiously showing that they did not care a brass farthing for me; +the thousands of lights with their million reflections, from shop +fronts, restaurants, theatres, and illuminated signs glared pitilessly +at me. A harsh roar of derision filled the air, like the bass to the +treble of the newsboys who yelled in my face. I was wearing a fur- +lined coat--just the thing a penniless adventurer would wear. I had a +valet attending to my luggage--just the sort of thing a penniless +adventurer would have. I was driving to the Albany--just the sort of +place where a penniless adventurer would live. And London knew all +this--and scoffed at me in stony heartlessness. The only object that +gave me the slightest sympathy was Nelson on top of his column. He +seemed to say, "After all, you /can't/ feel such a fool and so much +out in the cold as I do up here." + +At Piccadilly Circus I found the same atmosphere of hostility. My cab +was blocked in the theatre-going tide, and in neighbouring vehicles I +had glimpses of fair faces above soft wraps and the profiles of +moustached young men in white ties. They assumed an aggravating air of +ownership of the blazing thoroughfare, the only gay and joyous spot in +London. I, too, had owned it once, but now I felt an alien; and the +whole spirit of Piccadilly Circus rammed the sentiment home--I was an +alien and an undesirable alien. I felt even more lost and friendless +as I entered the long, cold arcade (known as the Ropewalk) of the +Albany. + +I found my sister Agatha waiting for me in the library. I had +telegraphed to her from Southampton. She was expensively dressed in +grey silk, and wore the family diamonds. We exchanged the family kiss +and the usual incoherent greetings of our race. She expressed her +delight at my restoration to health and gave me satisfactory tidings +of Tom Durrell, her husband, of the children, and of our sister Jane. +Then she shook her head at me, and made me feel like a naughty little +boy. This I resented. Being the head of the family, I had always +encouraged the deferential attitude which my sisters, dear right- +minded things, had naturally assumed from babyhood. + +"Oh, Simon, what a time you've given us!" + +She had never spoken to me like this in her life. + +"That's nothing, my dear Agatha," said I just a bit tartly, "to the +time I've given myself. I'm sorry for you, but I think you ought to be +a little sorry for me." + +"I am. More sorry than I can say. Oh, Simon, how could you?" + +"How could I what?" I cried, unwontedly regardless of the refinements +of language. + +"Mix yourself up in this dreadful affair?" + +"My dear girl," said I, "if you had got mixed up in a railway +collision, I shouldn't ask you how you managed to do it. I should be +sorry for you and feel your arms and legs and inquire whether you had +sustained any internal injuries." + +She is a pretty, spare woman with a bird-like face and soft brown hair +just turning grey; and as good-hearted a little creature as ever +adored five healthy children and an elderly baronet with disastrous +views on scientific farming. + +"Dear old boy," she said in milder accents, "I didn't mean to be +unkind. I want to be good to you and help you, so much so that I asked +Bingley"--Bingley is my housekeeper--"whether I could stay to dinner." + +"That's good of you--but this magnificence----?" + +"I'm going on later to the Foreign Office reception." + +"Then you do still mingle with the great and gorgeous?" I said. + +"What do you mean? Why shouldn't I?" + +I laughed, suspecting rightly that my sisters' social position had not +been greatly imperilled by the profligacy of their scandal-bespattered +brother. + +"What are people saying about me?" I asked suddenly. + +She made a helpless gesture. "Can't you guess? You have told us the +facts, and, of course, we believe you; we have done our best to spread +abroad the correct version--but you know what people are. If they're +told they oughtn't to believe the worst, they're disappointed and +still go on believing it so as to comfort themselves." + +"You cynical little wretch!" said I. + +"But it's true," she urged. "And, after all, even if they were well +disposed, the correct version makes considerable demands on their +faith. Even Letty Farfax--" + +"I know! I know!" said I. "Letty Farfax is typical. She would love to +be on the side of the angels, but as she wouldn't meet the best people +there, she ranges herself with the other party." + +Presently we dined, and during the meal, when the servants happened to +be out of the room, we continued, snippet-wise, the inconclusive +conversation. Like a good sister Agatha had come to cheer a lonely and +much abused man; like a daughter of Eve she had also come to find out +as much as she possibly could. + +"I think I must tell you something which you ought to know," she said. +"It's all over the town that you stole the lady from Dale Kynnersley." + +"If I did," said I, "it was at his mother's earnest entreaty. You can +tell folks that. You can also tell them Madame Brandt is not the kind +of woman to be stolen by one man from another. She is a thoroughly +virtuous, good, and noble woman, and there's not a creature living who +wouldn't be honoured by her friendship." + +As I made this announcement with an impetuosity which reminded me +(with a twinge of remorse) of poor Dale's dithyrambics, Agatha shot at +me a quick glance of apprehension. + +"But, my dear Simon, she used to act in a circus with a horse!" + +"I fail to see," said I, growing angry, "how the horse could have +imbued her with depravity, and I'm given to understand that the tone +of the circus is not quite what it used to be in the days of the +Empress Theodora." + +A ripple passed over Agatha's bare shoulders, which I knew to be a +suppressed shrug. + +"I suppose men and women look at these things differently," she +remarked, and from the stiffness of her tone I divined that the idea +of moral qualities lurking in the nature of Lola Brandt occasioned her +considerable displeasure. + +"I hope----" She paused. There was another ripple. "No. I had better +not say it. It's none of my business, after all." + +"I don't think it is, my dear," said I. + +Rogers bringing in the cutlets ended the snippet of talk. + +It was not the cheeriest of dinners. I took advantage of the next +interval of quiet to inquire after Dale. I learned that the poor boy +had almost collapsed after the election and was now yachting with +young Lord Essendale somewhere about the Hebrides. Agatha had not seen +him, but Lady Kynnersley had called on her one day in a distracted +frame of mind, bitterly reproaching me for the unhappiness of her son. +I should never have suspected that such fierce maternal love could +burn beneath Lady Kynnersley's granite exterior. She accused me of +treachery towards Dale and, most illogically, of dishonourable conduct +towards herself. + +"She said things about you," said Agatha, "for which, even if they +were true, I couldn't forgive her. So that's an end of that +friendship. Indeed, it has been very difficult, Simon," she continued, +"to keep up with our common friends. It has placed us in the most +painful and delicate position. And now you're back, I'm afraid it will +be worse." + +Thus under all Agatha's affection there ran the general hostility of +London. Guilty or not, I had offended her in her most deeply rooted +susceptibilities, and as yet she only knew half the imbroglio in which +I was enmeshed. Over coffee, however, she began to take a more +optimistic view of affairs. + +"After all, you'll be able to live it down," she said with a cheerful +air of patronage. "People soon forget. Before the year is out you'll +be going about just as usual, and at the General Election you'll find +a seat somewhere." + +I informed her that I had given up politics. What then, she asked, +would I do for an occupation? + +"Work for my living," I replied. + +"Work?" She arched her eyebrows, as if it were the most extraordinary +thing a man could do. "What kind of work?" + +"Road-sweeping or tax-collecting or envelope-addressing." + +She selected a cigarette from the silver box in front of her, and did +not reply until she had lit it and inhaled a puff or two. + +"I wish you wouldn't be so flippant, Simon." + +From this remark I inferred that I still was in the criminal dock +before this lady Chief Justice. I smiled at the airs the little woman +gave herself now that I was no longer the impeccable and +irreproachable dictator of the family. Mine was the experience of +every fallen tyrant since the world began. + +"My dear Agatha, I've had enough shocks during the last few weeks to +knock the flippancy out of a Congregational minister. In November I +was condemned to die within six months. The sentence was final and +absolute. I thought I would do the kind of good one can't do with a +lifetime in front of one, and I wasted all my substance in riotous +giving. In the elegant phraseology of high society I am stone-broke. +As my training has not fitted me to earn my living in high-falutin +ways, I must earn it in some humble capacity. Therefore, if you see me +call at your house for the water rate, you'll understand that I am +driven to that expedient by necessity and not by degradation." + +Naturally I had to elaborate this succinct statement before my sister +could understand its full significance. Then dismay overwhelmed her. +Surely something could be done. The fortunes of Jane and herself were +at my disposal to set me on my feet again. We were brother and +sisters; what was theirs was mine; they couldn't see me starve. I +thanked her for her affection--the dear creatures would unhesitatingly +have let me play ducks and drakes with their money, but I explained +that though poor, I was still proud and prized the independence of the +tax-collector above the position of the pensioner of Love's bounty. + +"Tom must get you something to do," she declared. + +"Tom must do nothing of the kind. Let me say that once and for all," I +returned peremptorily. "I've made my position clear to you, because +you're my sister and you ought to be spared any further +misinterpretation of my actions. But to have you dear people +intriguing after billets for me would be intolerable." + +"But what are you going to /do/?" she cried, wringing her hands. + +"I'm going for my first omnibus ride to-morrow," said I heroically. + +Upon which assertion Rogers entered announcing that her ladyship's +carriage had arrived. A while later I accompanied her downstairs and +along the arcade. + +"I shall be so miserable, thinking of you, poor old boy," she said +affectionately, as she bade me good-bye. + +"Don't, I am going to enjoy myself for the first time in my life." + +These were "prave 'orts," but I felt doleful enough when I re-entered +the chambers where I had lived in uncomplaining luxury for fourteen +years. + +"There's no help for it," I murmured. "I must get rid of the remainder +of my lease, sell my books and pictures and other more or less +expensive household goods, dismiss Rogers and Bingley, and go and live +on thirty shillings a week in a Bloomsbury boarding-house. I think," I +continued, regarding myself in the Queen Anne mirror over the +mantelpiece, "I think that it will better harmonise with my fallen +fortunes if I refrain from waxing the ends of my moustache. There +ought to be a modest droop about the moustache of a tax-collector." + +The next morning I gave my servants a months' notice. Rogers, who had +been with me for many years, behaved in the correctest manner. He +neither offered to lend me his modest savings nor to work for me for +no wages. He expressed his deep regret at leaving my service and his +confidence that I would give him a good character. Bingley wept after +the way of women. There was also a shadowy housemaidy young person in +a cap who used to make meteoric appearances and whom I left to the +diplomacy of Bingley. These dismal rites performed, I put my chambers +into the hands of a house agent and interviewed a firm of auctioneers +with reference to the sale. It was all exceedingly unpleasant. The +agent was so anxious to let my chambers, the auctioneer so delighted +at the chance of selling my effects, that I felt myself forthwith +turned neck and crop out of doors. It was a bright morning in early +spring, with a satirical touch of hope in the air. London, no longer +to be my London, maintained its hostile attitude to me. If any one had +prophesied that I should be a stranger in Piccadilly, I should have +laughed aloud. Yet I was. + +Walking moodily up Saint James's street I met the omniscient and +expansive Renniker. He gave me a curt nod and a "How d'ye do?" and +passed on. I felt savagely disposed to slash his jaunty silk hat off +with my walking-stick. A few months before he would have rushed +effusively into my arms and bedaubed me with miscellaneous +inaccuracies of information. At first I was furiously indignant. Then +I laughed, and swinging my stick, nearly wreaked my vengeance on a +harmless elderly gentleman. + +It was my first experience of social ostracism. Although I curled a +contumelious lip, I smarted under the indignity. It was all very well +to say proudly "/io son' io/"; but /io/ used to be a person of some +importance who was not cavalierly "how d'ye do'd" by creatures like +Renniker. This and the chance encounters of the next few weeks gave me +furiously to think. I knew that in one respect my sister Agatha was +right. These good folks who shied now at the stains of murder with +which my reputation was soiled would in time get used to them and +eventually forget them altogether. But I reflected that I should not +forget, and I determined that I should not be admitted on sufferance, +as at first I should have to be admitted, into any man's club or any +woman's drawing-room. + +One day Colonel Ellerton, Maisie Ellerton's father, called on me. He +used to be my very good friend; we sat on the same side of the House +and voted together on innumerable occasions in perfect sympathy and +common lack of conviction. He was cordial enough, congratulated me on +my marvellous restoration to health, deplored my absence from +Parliamentary life, and then began to talk confusedly of Russia. It +took a little perspicacity to see that something was weighing on the +good man's mind; something he had come to say and for his honest life +could not get out. His plight became more pitiable as the interview +proceeded, and when he rose to go, he grew as red as a turkey-cock and +began to sputter. I went to his rescue. + +"It's very kind of you to have come to see me, Ellerton," I said, "but +if I don't call yet awhile to pay my respects to your wife, I hope +you'll understand, and not attribute it to discourtesy." + +I have never seen relief so clearly depicted on a human countenance. +He drew a long breath and instinctively passed his handkerchief over +his forehead. Then he grasped my hand. + +"My dear fellow," he cried, "of course we'll understand. It was a +shocking affair--terrible for you. My wife and I were quite bowled +over by it." + +I did not attempt to clear myself. What was the use? Every man denies +these things as a matter of course, and as a matter of course nobody +believes him. + +Once I ran across Elphin Montgomery, a mysterious personage behind +many musical comedy enterprises. He is jewelled all over like a first- +class Hindoo idol, and is treated as a god in fashionable restaurants, +where he entertains riff-raff at sumptuous banquets. I had some slight +acquaintance with the fellow, but he greeted me as though I were a +long lost intimate--his heavy sensual face swagged in smiles--and +invited me to a supper party. I declined with courtesy and walked away +in fury. He would not have presumed to ask me to meet his riff-raff +before I became disgustingly and I suppose to some minds, +fascinatingly, notorious. But now I was hail-fellow-well-met with him, +a bird of his own feather, a rogue of his own kidney, to whom he threw +open the gates of his bediamonded and befrilled Alsatia. A +pestilential fellow! As if I would mortgage my birthright for such a +mess of pottage. + +So I stiffened and bade Society high and low go packing. I would +neither seek mine own people, nor allow myself to be sought by Elphin +Montgomery's. I enwrapped myself in a fine garment of defiance. My +sister Jane, who was harder and more worldly-minded than Agatha, would +have had me don a helmet of brass and a breastplate of rhinoceros hide +and force my way through reluctant portals; but Agatha agreed with me, +clinging, however, to the hope that time would not only reconcile +Society to me, but would also reconcile me to Society. + +"If the hope comforts you, my dear Agatha," said I, "by all means +cherish it. In the meantime, allow me to observe that the character of +Ishmael is eminently suited to the profession of tax-collecting." + +During these early days of my return the one person with whom I had no +argument was Lola. She soothed where others scratched, and stimulated +where others goaded. The intimacy of my convalescence continued. At +first I acquainted her, as far as was reasonably necessary, with my +change of fortune, and accepted her offer to find me less expensive +quarters. The devoted woman personally inspected every flat in London, +with that insistence of which masculine patience is incapable, and +eventually decided on a tiny bachelor suite somewhere in the clouds +over a block of flats in Victoria Street where the service is included +in the rent. Into this I moved with such of my furniture as I withdrew +from the auctioneer's hammer, and there I prepared to stay until +necessity should drive me to the Bloomsbury boarding-house. I thought +I would graduate my descent. Before I moved, however, she came to the +Albany for the first and only time to see the splendour I was about to +quit. In a modest way it was splendour. My chambers were really a +large double flat to the tasteful furnishing of which I had devoted +the thought and interest of many years. She went with me through the +rooms. The dining-room was all Chippendale, each piece a long-coveted +and hunted treasure; the library old oak; the drawing-room a +comfortable and cunning medley. There were bits of old china, pieces +of tapestry, some rare prints, my choice collection of mezzotints, a +picture or two of value--one a Lancret, a very dear possession. And +there were my books--once I had a passion for rare bindings. Every +thing had to me a personal significance, and I hated the idea of +surrender more than I dared to confess even to myself. But I said to +Lola: + +"Vanity of vanities! All things expensive are vanity!" + +Her eyes glistened and she slipped her arm through mine and patted the +back of my hand. + +"If you talk like that I shall cry and make a fool of myself," she +said in a broken manner. + +It is not so much the thing that is done or the thing that is said +that matters, but the way of doing or saying it. In the commonplace +pat on the hand, in the break in the commonplace words there was +something that went straight to my heart. I squeezed her arm and +whispered: + +"Thank you, dear." + +This sympathy so sure and yet so delicately conveyed was mine for the +trouble of mounting the stairs that led to her drawing-room in Cadogan +Gardens. She seemed to be watching my heart the whole time, so that +without my asking, without my knowledge even, she could touch each +sore spot as it appeared, with the healing finger. For herself she +made no claims, and because she did not in any way declare herself to +be unhappy, I, after the manner of men, took her happiness for +granted. For lives there a man who does not believe that an +uncomplaining woman has nothing to complain of? It is his masculine +prerogative of density. Besides, does not he himself when hurt bellow +like a bull? Why, he argues, should not wounded woman do the same? So, +when I wanted companionship, I used to sit in the familiar room and +make Adolphus, the Chow dog, shoulder arms with the poker, and gossip +restfully with Lola, who sprawled in her old languorous, loose-limbed +way among the cushions of her easy chair. Gradually my habitual +reserve melted from me, and at last I gave her my whole confidence, +telling her of my disastrous pursuit of eumoiriety, of Eleanor +Faversham, of the attitude of Society, in fact, of most of what I have +set down in the preceding pages. She was greatly interested in +everything, especially in Eleanor Faversham. She wanted to know the +colour of her eyes and hair and how she dressed. Women are odd +creatures. + +The weeks passed. + +Besides ministering to my dilapidated spirit, Lola found occupation in +looking after the cattery of Anastasius Papadopoulos, which the little +man had left in the charge of his pupil and assistant, Quast. This +Quast apparently was a faithful, stolid, but unintelligent and +incapable German who had remained loyally at his post until Lola found +him there in a state of semi-starvation. The sum of money with which +Anastasius had provided him had been eked out to the last farthing. +The cats were in a pitiable condition. Quast, in despair, was trying +to make up his dull mind whether to sell them or eat them. Lola with +superb feminine disregard of legal rights, annexed the whole cattery, +maintained Quast in his position of pupil and assistant and informed +the landlord that she would be responsible for the rent. Then she set +to work to bring the cats into their proper condition of sleekness, +and, that done, to put them through a systematic course of training. +They had been thoroughly demoralised, she declared, under Quast's +maladministration, and had almost degenerated into the unhistrionic +pussies of domestic life. As for Hephaestus, the great ferocious tom, +he was more like an insane tiger than a cat. He flew at the gate over +which he used to jump, and clawed and bit it to matchwood, and after +spitting in fury at the blazing hoop, sprang at the unhappy Quast as +if he had been the contriver of the indignities to which he was being +subjected. These tales of feline backsliding I used to hear from Lola, +and when I asked her why she devoted her energies to the unproductive +education of the uninspiring animals, she would shrug her shoulders +and regard me with a Giaconda smile. + +"In the first place it amuses me. You seem to forget I'm a +/dompteuse/, a tamer of beasts; it's my profession, I was trained to +it. It's the only thing I can do, and it's good to feel that I haven't +lost my power. It's odd, but I feel a different woman when I'm +impressing my will on these wretched cats. You must come one of these +days and see a performance, when I've got them ship-shape. They'll +astonish you. And then," she would add, "I can write to Anastasius and +tell him how his beloved cats are getting on." + +Well, it was an interest in her life which, Heaven knows, was not +crowded with exciting incidents. Now that I can look back on these +things with a philosophic eye, I can imagine no drearier existence +than that of a friendless, unoccupied woman in a flat in Cadogan +Gardens. At that time, I did not realise this as completely as I might +have done. Because her old surgeon friend, Sir Joshua Oldfield, now +and then took her out to dinner, I considered she was leading a +cheerful if not a merry life. I smiled indulgently at Lola's devotion +to the cats and congratulated her on having found another means +whereby to beguile the /tedium vitae/ which is the arch-enemy of +content. + +"I wish I could find such a means myself," said I. + +I not only had the wish, but the imperative need to so do. To stand +like Ajax defying the lightning is magnificent, but as a continuous +avocation it is wearisome and unprofitable, especially if carried on +in a tiny bachelor suite, an eyrie of a place, at the top of a block +of flats in Victoria Street. Indeed, if I did not add soon to the +meagre remains of my fortune, I should not be able to afford the +luxury of the bachelor suite. Conscious of this, I left the lightning +alone, after a last denunciatory shake of the fist, and descended into +the busy ways of men to look for work. + +Thus I entered on the second stage of my career--that of a soldier of +Fortune. At first I was doubtful as to what path to glory and bread- +and-butter I could carve out for myself. Hitherto I had been Fortune's +darling instead of her mercenary, and she had most politely carved out +my paths for me, until she had played her jade's trick and left me in +the ditch. Now things were different. I stood alone, ironical, +ambitionless, still questioning the utility of human effort, yet +determined to play the game of life to its bitter end. What could I +do? + +It is true that I had been called to the Bar in my tentative youth, +while I drafted documents for my betters to pull to pieces and rewrite +at the Foreign Office; but I had never seen a brief, and my memories +of Gaius, Justinian, Williams's "Real Property," and Austin's +"Jurisprudence," were as nebulous as those of the Differential +Calculus over whose facetiae I had pondered during my schooldays. The +law was as closed to me as medicine. I had no profession. I therefore +drifted into the one pursuit for which my training had qualified me, +namely, political journalism. I had written much, in my amateur way, +during my ten years' membership of Parliament; why, I hardly know--not +because I needed money, not because I had thoughts which I burned to +express, and certainly not through vain desire of notoriety. Perhaps +the motive was twofold, an ingrained Puckish delight in the +incongruous--it seemed incongruous for an airy epicurean like myself +to spend stodgy hours writing stodgier articles on Pauper Lunacy and +Poor Law Administration--and the same inherited sense of gentlemanly +obligation to do something for one's king and country as made my +ancestors, whether they liked it or not, clothe themselves in +uncomfortable iron garments and go about fighting other gentlemen +similarly clad, to their own great personal danger. At any rate, it +complemented my work at St. Stephen's, and doubtless contributed to a +reputation in the House which I did not gain through my oratory. I +could therefore bring to editors the stock-in-trade of a fairly +accurate knowledge of current political issues, an appreciation of +personalities, and a philosophical subrident estimate of the bubbles +that are for ever rising on the political surface. I found Finch of +/The Universal Review/, James of /The Weekly/, and one or two others +more than willing to give me employment. I put my pen also at the +disposal of Raggles. It was as uplifting and about as mechanical as +tax-collecting; but it involved less physical exertion and less +unpleasant contact with my fellow creatures. I could also keep the +ends of my moustache waxed, which was a great consolation. + +My sister Agatha commended my courage and energy, and Lola read my +articles with a glowing enthusiasm, which compensated for lack of +exact understanding; but I was not proud of my position. It is one +thing to stand at the top of a marble staircase and in a debonair, +jesting fashion to fling insincere convictions to a recipient world. +It is another to sell the same worthless commodity for money. I began, +to my curious discomfort, to suspect that life had a meaning after +all. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +One day I had walked from Cadogan Gardens with a gadfly phrase of +Lola's tormenting my ears: + +"You're not quite alive even yet." + +I had spent most of the day over a weekly article for James's high- +toned periodical, using the same old shibboleths, proclaiming Gilead +to be the one place for balm, juggling with the same old sophistries, +and proving that Pope must have been out of his mind when he declared +that an honest man was the noblest work of God, seeing that nobler +than the most honest man was the disingenuous government held up to +eulogy; and I had gone tired, dispirited, out of conceit with myself +to Lola for tea and consolation. I had not been the merriest company. +I had spoken gloomily of the cosmos, and when Adolphus the Chow dog +had walked down the room in his hind legs, I had railed at the +futility of canine effort. To Lola, who had put forth all her +artillery of artless and harmless coquetry in voice and gesture, in +order to lure my thoughts into pleasanter ways, I exhibited the +querulous grumpiness of a spoiled village octogenarian. We discussed +the weather, which was worth discussing, for the spring, after long +tarrying, had come. It was early May. Lola laughed. + +"The spring has got into my blood." + +"It hasn't got into mine," I declared. "It never will. I wonder what +the deuce is the matter with me." + +Then Lola had said, "My dear Simon, I know. You're not quite alive +even yet." + +I walked homewards pestered by the phrase. What did she mean by it? I +stopped at the island round the clock-tower by Victoria Station and +bought a couple of newspapers. There, in the centre of the whirlpool +where swam dizzily omnibuses, luggage-laden cabs, whirling motors, +feverish, train-seeking humans, dirty newsboys, I stood absently +saying to myself, "You're not quite alive even yet." + +A hand gripped my arm and a cheery voice said "Hallo!" I started and +recognised Rex Campion. I also said "Hallo!" and shook hands with him. +We had not met since the days when, having heard of my Monte Cristo +lavishness, he had called at the Albany and had beguiled me into +giving a thousand pounds to his beloved "Barbara's Building," the +prodigious philanthropic institution which he had founded in the slums +of South Lambeth. In spite of my dead and dazed state of being I was +pleased to see his saturnine black-bearded face, and to hear his big +voice. He was one of those men who always talked like a megaphone. The +porticoes of Victoria Station re-echoed with his salutations. I +greeted him less vociferously, but with equal cordiality. + +"You're looking very fit. I head that you had gone through a +miraculous operation. How are you?" + +"Perfectly well," said I, "but I've been told that I'm not quite alive +even yet." + +He looked anxious. "Remains of trouble?" + +"Not a vestige," I laughed. + +"That's all right," he said breezily. "Now come along and hear +Milligan speak." + +It did not occur to him that I might have work, worries, or +engagements, or that the evening's entertainment which he offered me +might be the last thing I should appreciate. His head, for the moment, +was full of Milligan, and it seemed to him only natural that the head +of all humanity should be full of Milligan too. I made a wry face. + +"That son of thunder?" + +Milligan was a demagogue who had twice unsuccessfully attempted to get +into Parliament in the Labour interest. + +"Have you ever heard him?" + +"Heaven forbid!" said I in my pride. + +"Then come. He's speaking in the Hall of the Lambeth Biblical +Society." + +I was tempted, as I wanted company. In spite of my high resolve to +out-Ishmael Ishmael, I could not kill a highly developed gregarious +instinct. I also wanted a text for an article. But I wanted my dinner +still more. Campion condemned the idea of dinner. + +"You can have a cold supper," he roared, "like the rest of us." + +I yielded. Campion dragged me helpless to a tram at the top of +Vauxhall Bridge Road. + +"It will do Your Mightiness good to mingle with the proletariat," he +grinned. + +I did not tell him that I had been mingling with it in this manner for +some time past or that I repudiated the suggestion of its benign +influence. I entered the tram meekly. As soon as we were seated, he +began: + +"I bet you won't guess what I've done with your thousand pounds. I'll +give you a million guesses." + +As I am a poor conjecturer, I put on a blank expression and shook my +head. He waited for an instant, and then shouted with an air of +triumph: + +"I've founded a prize, my boy--a stroke of genius. I've called it by +your name. 'The de Gex Prize for Housewives.' I didn't bother you +about it as I knew you were in a world of worry. But just think of it. +An annual prize of thirty pounds--practically the interest--for +housewives!" + +His eyes flashed in his enthusiasm; he brought his heavy hand down on +my knee. + +"Well?" I asked, not electrified by this announcement. + +"Don't you see?" he exclaimed. "I throw the competition open to the +women in the district, with certain qualifications, you know--I look +after all that. They enter their names by a given date and then they +start fair. The woman who keeps her home tidiest and her children +cleanest collars the prize. Isn't it splendid?" + +I agreed. "How many competitors?" + +"Forty-three. And there they are working away, sweeping their floors +and putting up clean curtains and scrubbing their children's noses +till they shine like rubies and making their homes like little Dutch +pictures. You see, thirty pounds is a devil of a lot of money for poor +people. As one mother of a large family said to me, 'With that one +could bury them all quite beautiful.'" + +"You're a wonderful fellow," said I, somewhat enviously. + +He gave an awkward laugh and tugged at his beard. + +"I've only happened to find my job, and am doing it as well as I can," +he said. "'Tisn't very much, after all. Sometimes one gets +discouraged; people are such ungrateful pigs, but now and again one +does help a lame dog over a stile which bucks one up, you know. Why +don't you come down and have a look at us one of these days? You've +been promising to do so for years." + +"I will," said I with sudden interest. + +"You can have a peep at one or two of the competing homes. We pop into +them unexpectedly at all hours. That's a part of the game. We've a +complicated system of marks which I'll show you. Of course, no woman +knows how she's getting on, otherwise many would lose heart." + +"How do the men like this disconcerting ubiquity of soap and water?" + +"They love it!" he cried. "They're keen on the prize too. Some think +they'll grab the lot and have the devil's own drunk when the year's +up. But I'll look after that. Besides, when a chap has been living in +the pride of cleanliness for a year he'll get into the way of it and +be less likely to make a beast of himself. Anyway, I hope for the +best. My God, de Gex, if I didn't hope and hope and hope," he cried +earnestly, "I don't know how I should get through anything without +hope and a faith in the ultimate good of things." + +"The same inconvincible optimist?" said I. + +"Yes. Thank heaven. And you?" + +I paused. There came a self-revelatory flash. "At the present moment," +I said, "I'm a perfectly convincible vacuist." + +We left the tram and the main thoroughfare, and turned into frowsy +streets, peopled with frowsy men and women and raucous with the +bickering play of frowsy children. It was still daylight. Over London +the spring had fluttered its golden pinions, and I knew that in more +blessed quarters--in the great parks, in Piccadilly, in Old Palace +Yard, half a mile away--its fragrance lingered, quickening blood +already quickened by hope, and making happier hearts already happy. +But here the ray of spring had never penetrated either that day or the +days of former springs; so there was no lingering fragrance. Here no +one heeded the aspects of the changing year save when suffocated by +sweltering heat, or frozen in the bitter cold, or drenched by the +pouring rain. Otherwise in these gray, frowsy streets spring, summer, +autumn, winter were all the same to the grey, frowsy people. It is +true that youth laughed--pale, animal boys, and pale, flat-chested +girls. But it laughed chiefly at inane obscenity. + +One of these days, when phonography is as practicable as photography, +some one will make accurate records in these frowsy streets, and then, +after the manner of the elegant writers of Bucolics and Pastorals, +publish such a series of Urbanics and Pavimentals, phonographic +dialogues between the Colins and Dulcibellas of the pavement and the +gutter as will freeze up Hell with horror. + +An anemic, flirtatious group passed us, the girls in front, the boys +behind. + +"Good God, Campion, what /can/ you do?" I asked. + +"Pay them, old chap," he returned quickly. + +"What's the good of that?" + +"Good? Oh, I see!" He laughed, with a touch of scorn. "It's a question +of definition. When you see a fellow creature suffering and it shocks +your refined susceptibilities and you say 'poor devil' and pass on, +you think you have pitied him. But you haven't. You think pity's a +passive virtue. It isn't. If you really pity anybody, you go mad to +help him--you don't stand by with tears of sensibility running down +your cheeks. You stretch out your hand, because you've damn well got +to. If he won't take it, or wipes you over the head, that's his look- +out. You can't work miracles. But once in a way he does take it, and +then--well, you work like hell to pull him through. And if you do, +what bigger thing is there in the world than the salvation of a human +soul?" + +"It's worth living for," said I. + +"It's worth doing any confounded old thing for," he declared. + +I envied Campion as I had envied no man before. He was alive in heart +and soul and brain; I was not quite alive even yet. But I felt better +for meeting him. I told him so. He tugged his beard again and laughed. + +"I am a happy old crank. Perhaps that's the reason." + +At the door of the hall of the Lambeth Ethical Society he stopped +short and turned on me; his jaw dropped and he regarded me in dismay. + +"I'm the flightiest and feather-headedest ass that ever brayed," he +informed me. "I just remember I sent Miss Faversham a ticket for this +meeting about a fortnight ago. I had clean forgotten it, though +something uncomfortable has been tickling the back of my head all the +time. I'm miserably sorry." + +I hastened to reassure him. "Miss Faversham and I are still good +friends. I don't think she'll mind my nodding to her from the other +side of the room." Indeed, she had written me one or two letters since +my recovery perfect in tact and sympathy, and had put her loyal +friendship at my service. + +"Even if we meet," I smiled, "nothing tragic will happen." + +He expressed his relief. + +"But what," I asked, "is Miss Faversham doing in this galley?" + +"I suppose she is displaying an intelligent interest in modern +thought," he said, with boyish delight at the chance I had offered +him. + +"/Touche/," said I, with a bow, and we entered the hall. + +It was crowded. The audience consisted of the better class of +artisans, tradesmen, and foremen in factories: there was a sprinkling +of black-coated clerks and unskilled labouring men. A few women's hats +sprouted here and there among the men's heads like weeds in a desert. +There were women, too, in proportionately greater numbers, on the +platform at the end of the hall, and among them I was quick to notice +Eleanor Faversham. As Campion disliked platforms and high places in +synagogues, we sat on one of the benches near the door. He explained +it was also out of consideration for me. + +"If Milligan is too strong for your proud, aristocratic stomach," he +whispered, "you can cut and run without attracting attention." + +Milligan had evidently just began his discourse. I had not listened to +him for five minutes when I found myself caught in the grip which he +was famous for fastening on his audience. With his subject-- +Nationalisation of the Land--and his arguments I had been perfectly +familiar for years. As a boy I had read Henry George's "Progress and +Poverty" with the superciliousness of the young believer in the divine +right of Britain's landed gentry, and before the Eton Debating Society +I had demolished the whole theory to my own and every one else's +satisfaction. Later, as a practical politician, I had kept myself +abreast of the Socialist movement. I did not need Mr. John Milligan, +whom my lingering flippancy had called a son of thunder, to teach me +the elements of the matter. But at this peculiar crisis of my life I +felt that, in a queer, unknown way, Milligan had a message for me. It +was uncanny. I sat and listened to the exposition of Utopia with the +rapt intensity of any cheesemonger's assistant there before whose +captured spirit floated the vision of days to come when the land +should so flow with milk and money that golden cheeses would be like +buttercups for the plucking. It was not the man's gospel that +fascinated me nor his illuminated prophecy of the millennium that +produced the vibrations in my soul, but the surging passion of his +faith, the tempest of his enthusiasm. I had enough experience of +public speaking to distinguish between the theatrical and the genuine +in oratory. Here was no tub-thumping soothsayer, but an inspired +zealot. He lived his impassioned creed in every fibre of his frame and +faculties. He was Titanic, this rough miner, in his unconquerable +hope, divine in his yearning love of humanity. + +When he ended there was a dead silence for a second, and then a roar +of applause from the pale, earnest, city-stamped faces. A lump rose in +my throat. Campion clutched my knee. A light burned in his eyes. + +"Well? What about Boanerges?" + +"Only one thing," said I, "I wish I were as alive as that man." + +A negligible person proposed a vote of thanks to Milligan, after which +the hall began to empty. Campion, caught by a group of his proletariat +friends, signalled to me to wait for him. And as I waited I saw +Eleanor Faversham come slowly from the platform down the central +gangway. Her eyes fixed themselves on me at once--for standing there +alone I must have been a conspicuous figure, an intruder from the +gorgeous West--and with a little start of pleasure she hurried her +pace. I made my way past the chattering loiterers in my row, and met +her. We shook hands. + +"Well? Saul among the prophets? Who would have thought of seeing you +here!" + +I waved my hand towards Campion. "We have the same sponsor." She +glanced at him for a swift instant and then at me. + +"Did you like it?" + +"Have you seen Niagara?" + +"Yes." + +"Did you like it?" + +"I'm so glad," she cried. "I thought perhaps----" she broke off. "Why +haven't you tried to see me?" + +"There are certain conventions." + +"I know," she said. "They're idiotic." + +"There's also Mrs. Faversham," said I. + +"Mother is the dearest thing in life," she replied, "but Mrs. +Faversham is a convention." She came nearer to me, in order to allow a +freer passage down the gangway and also in order to be out of earshot +of an elderly woman who was obviously accompanying her. "Simon, I've +been a good friend to you. I believe in you. Nothing will shake my +convictions. You couldn't look into my eyes like that if--well--you +know." + +"I couldn't," said I. + +"Then why can't two honourable, loyal people meet? We only need meet +once. But I want to tell you things I can't write--things I can't say +here. I also want to hear of things. I think I've got a kind of claim +--haven't I?" + +"I've told you, Eleanor. My letters--" + +"Letters are rubbish!" she declared with a laugh. "Where can we meet?" + +"Agatha is a good soul," said I. + +"Well, fix it up by telephone to-morrow." + +"Alas!" said I; "I don't run to telephones in my eagle's nest on +Himalaya Mansions." + +She knitted her brows. "That's not the last address you wrote from." + +"No," I replied, smiling at this glimpse of the matter-of-fact +Eleanor. "It was a joke." + +"You're incorrigible!" she said rebukingly. + +"I don't joke so well in rags as in silken motley," I returned with a +smile, "but I do my best." + +She disdained a retort. "We'll arrange, anyhow, with Agatha." + +Campion, escaping from his friends, came up and chatted for a minute. +Then he saw Eleanor and her companion to their carriage. + +"Now," said he a moment later, "come to Barbara and have some supper. +You won't mind if Jenkins joins us?" + +"Who's Jenkins?" I asked. + +"Jenkins is an intelligent gas-fitter of Sociological tastes. He +classes Herbert Spencer, Benjamin Kidd, and Lombroso as light +literature. He also helps us with our young criminals. I should like +you to meet him." + +"I should be delighted," I said. + +So Jenkins was summoned from a little knot a few yards off and duly +presented. Whereupon we proceeded to Campion's plain but comfortably +furnished quarters in Barbara's Building, where he entertained us till +nearly midnight with cold beef and cheese and strenuous conversation. + +As I walked across Westminster Bridge on my homeward way it seemed as +if London had grown less hostile. Big Ben chimed twelve and there was +a distinct Dick Whittington touch about the music. The light on the +tower no longer mocked me. As I passed by the gates of Palace Yard, a +policeman on duty recognised me and saluted. I strode on with a +springier tread and noticed that the next policeman who did not know +me, still regarded me with an air of benevolence. A pale moon shone in +the heavens and gave me shyly to understand that she was as much my +moon as any one else's. As I turned into Victoria Street, omnibuses +passed me with a lurch of friendliness. The ban was lifted. I danced +(figuratively) along the pavement. + +What it portended I did not realise. I was conscious of nothing but a +spiritual exhilaration comparable only with the physical exhilaration +I experienced in the garden at Algiers when my bodily health had been +finally established. As the body then felt the need of expressing +itself in violent action--in leaping and running (an impulse which I +firmly subdued), so now did my spirit crave some sort of expression in +violent emotion. I was in a mood for enraptured converse with an +archangel. + +Looking back, I see that Campion's friendly "Hallo" had awakened me +from a world of shadows and set me among realities; the impact of +Milligan's vehement personality had changed the conditions of my life +from static to dynamic; and that a Providence which is not always as +ironical as it pleases us to assert had sent Eleanor Faversham's +graciousness to mitigate the severity of the shock. I see how just was +Lola's diagnosis. "You're not quite alive even yet." I had been going +about in a state of suspended spiritual animation. + +My recovery dated from that evening. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +Agatha proved herself the good soul I had represented her to be. + +"Certainly, dear," she said when I came the following morning with my +request. "You can have my boudoir all to yourselves." + +"I am grateful," said I, "and for the first time I forgive you for +calling it by that abominable name." + +It was an old quarrel between us. Every lover of language picks out +certain words in common use that he hates with an unreasoning +ferocity. + +"I'll change it's title if you like," she said meekly. + +"If you do, my dear Agatha, my gratitude will be eternal." + +"I remember a certain superior person, when Tom and I were engaged, +calling mother's boudoir--the only quiet place in the house--the +osculatorium." + +She laughed with the air of a small bird who after long waiting had at +last got even with a hawk. But I did not even smile. For the only time +in our lives I considered that Agatha had committed a breach of good +taste. I said rather stiffly: + +"It is not going to be a lovers' meeting, my dear." + +She flushed. "It was silly of me. But why shouldn't it be a lovers' +meeting?" she added audaciously. "If nothing had happened, you two +would have been married by this time--" + +"Not till June." + +"Oh, yes, you would. I should have seen about that--a ridiculously +long engagement. Anyhow, it was only your illness that broke it off. +You were told you were going to die. You did the only honourable and +sensible thing--both of you. Now you're in splendid health again--" + +"Stop, stop!" I interrupted. "You seem to be entirely oblivious of the +circumstances--" + +"I'm oblivious of no circumstances. Neither is Eleanor. And if she +still cares for you she won't care twopence for the circumstances. I +know I wouldn't." + +And to cut off my reply she clapped the receiver of the telephone to +her ear and called up Eleanor, with whom she proceeded to arrange a +date for the interview. Presently she screwed her head round. + +"She says she can come at four this afternoon. Will that suit you?" + +"Perfectly," said I. + +When she replaced the receiver I stepped behind her and put my hands +on her shoulders. + +"'The mother of mischief,'" I quoted, "'is no bigger than a midge's +wing,' and the grandmother is the match-making microbe that lurks in +every woman's system." + +She caught one of my hands and looked up into my face. + +"You're not cross with me, Simon?" + +Her tone was that of the old Agatha. I laughed, remembering the +policeman's salute of the previous night, and noted this recovery of +my ascendancy as another indication of the general improvement in the +attitude of London. + +"Of course not, Tom Tit," said I, calling her by her nursery name. +"But I absolutely forbid your thinking of playing Fairy Godmother." + +"You can forbid my playing," she laughed, "and I can obey you. But you +can't prevent my thinking. Thought is free." + +"Sometimes, my dear," I retorted, "it is better chained up." + +With this rebuke I left her. No doubt, she considered a renewal of my +engagement with Eleanor Faversham a romantic solution of difficulties. +I could only regard it as preposterous, and as I walked back to +Victoria Street I convinced myself that Eleanor's frank offer of +friendship proved that such an idea never entered her head. I took +vehement pains to convince myself Spring had come; like the year, I +had awakened from my lethargy. I viewed life through new eyes; I felt +it with a new heart. Such vehement pains I was not capable of taking +yesterday. + +"It has never entered her head!" I declared conclusively. + +And yet, as we sat together a few hours later in Agatha's little room +a doubt began to creep into the corners of my mind. In her strong way +she had brushed away the scandal that hung around my name. She did not +believe a word of it. I told her of my loss of fortune. My lunacy +rather raised than lowered me in her esteem. How then was I personally +different from the man she had engaged herself to marry six months +before? I remembered our parting. I remembered her letters. Her +presence here was proof of her unchanging regard. But was it something +more? Was there a hope throbbing beneath that calm sweet surface to +which I did not respond? For it often happens that the more direct a +woman is, the more in her feminine heart is she elusive. + +Clean-built, clean-hearted, clean-eyed, of that clean complexion which +suggests the open air, Eleanor impressed you with a sense of bodily +and mental wholesomeness. Her taste in dress ran in the direction of +plain tailor-made gowns (I am told, by the way, that these can be +fairly expensive), and shrank instinctively from the frills and +fripperies to which daughters of Eve are notoriously addicted. She +spoke in a clear voice which some called hard, though I never found it +so; she carried herself proudly. Chaste in thought, frank in deed, she +was a perfect specimen of the highly bred, purely English type of +woman who, looking at facts squarely in the face, accepts them as +facts and does not allow her imagination to dally in any atmosphere +wherein they may be invested. To this type a vow is irrefragable. +Loyalty is inherent in her like her blood. She never changes. What +feminine inconsistencies she had at fifteen she retains at five-and- +twenty, and preserves to add to the charms of her old age. She is the +exemplary wife, the great-hearted mother of children. She has sent her +sons in thousands to fight her country's battles overseas. Those +things which lie in the outer temper of her soul she gives lavishly. +That which is hidden in her inner shrine has to be wrested from her by +the one hand she loves. Was mine that hand? + +It will be perceived that I was beginning to take life seriously. + +Eleanor must have also perceived something of the sort; for during our +talk she said irrelevantly: + +"You've changed!" + +"In what way?" I asked. + +"I don't know. You're not the same as you were. I seem to know you +better in some ways, and yet I seem to know you less. Why is it?" + +I said, "No one can go through the Valley of the Grotesque as I have +done without suffering some change." + +"I don't see why you should call it 'the Valley of the Grotesque.'" + +I smiled at her instinctive rejection of the fanciful. + +"Don't you? Call it the Valley of the Shadow, if you like. But don't +you think the attendant circumstances were rather mediaeval, +gargoyley, Orcagnesque? Don't you think the whole passage lacked the +dignity which one associates with the Valley of the Shadow of Death?" + +"You mean the murder?" she said with a faint shiver. + +"That," said I, "might be termed the central feature. Just look at +things as they happened. I am condemned to death. I try to face it +like a man and a gentleman. I make my arrangements. I give up what I +can call mine no longer. I think I will devote the rest of my days to +performing such acts of helpfulness and charity as would be impossible +for a sound man with a long life before him to undertake. I do it in a +half-jesting spirit, refusing to take death seriously. I pledge myself +to an act of helpfulness which I regard at first as merely an incident +in my career of beneficence. I am gradually caught in the tangle of a +drama which at times develops into sheer burlesque, and before I can +realise what is going to happen, it turns into ghastly tragedy. I am +overwhelmed in grotesque disaster--it is the only word. Instead of +creating happiness all around me, I have played havoc with human +lives. I stand on the brink and look back and see that it is all one +gigantic devil-jest at my expense. I thank God I am going to die. I do +die--for practical purposes. I come back to life and--here I am. Can I +be quite the same person I was a year ago?" + +She reflected for a few moments. Then she said: + +"No. You can't be--quite the same. A man of your nature would either +have his satirical view of life hardened into bitter cynicism or he +would be softened by suffering and face things with new and nobler +ideals. He would either still regard life as a jest--but instead of +its being an odd, merry jest it would be a grim, meaningless, hideous +one; or he would see that it wasn't a jest at all, but a full, +wonderful, big reality. I've expressed myself badly, but you see what +I mean." + +"And what do you think has happened?" I asked. + +"I think you have changed for the better." + +I smiled inwardly. It sounded rather dull. I said with a smile: + +"You never liked my cap and bells, Eleanor." + +"No!" she replied emphatically. "What's the use of mockery? See where +it led you." + +I rose, half-laughing at her earnestness, half-ashamed of myself, and +took a couple of turns across the room. + +"You're right," I cried. "It led me to perdition. You might make an +allegory out of my career and entitle it 'The Mocker's Progress.'" I +paused for a second or two, and then said suddenly, "Why did you from +the first refuse to believe what everybody else does--before I had the +chance of looking you in the eyes?" + +She averted her face. "You forget that I had had the chance of +searching deep beneath the mocker." + +I cannot, in reverence to her, set down what she said she found there. +I stood humbled and rebuked, as a man must do when the best in him is +laid out before his sight by a good woman. + +A maidservant brought in tea, set the table, and departed, Eleanor +drew off her gloves and my glance fell on her right hand. + +"It's good of you to wear my ring to-day," I said. + +"To-day?" she echoed, with the tiniest touch of injury in her voice. +"Do you think I put it on to just please you to-day?" + +"It would have been gracious of you to do so," said I. + +"It wouldn't," she declared. "It would have been mawkish and +sentimental. When we parted I told you to do what you liked with the +ring. Do you remember? You put it on this finger"--she waved her right +hand--"and there it has stayed ever since." + +I caught the hand and touched it lightly with my lips. She coloured +faintly. + +"Two lumps of sugar and no milk, I think that's right?" She handed me +the tea-cup. + +"It's like you not to have forgotten." + +"I'm a practical person," she replied with a laugh. + +Presently she said, "Tell me more about your illness--or rather your +recovery. I know nothing except that you had a successful operation +which all the London surgeons said was impossible. Who nursed you?" + +"I had a trained nurse," said I. + +"Wasn't Madame Brandt with you?" + +"Yes," said I. "She was very good to me. In fact, I think I owe her my +life." + +Hitherto the delicacy of the situation had caused me to refer to Lola +no more than was necessary, and in my narrative I had purposely left +her vague. + +"That's a great debt," said Eleanor. + +"It is, indeed." + +"You're not the man to leave such a debt unpaid?" + +"I try to repay it by giving Madame Brandt my devoted friendship." + +Her eyes never wavered as they held mine. + +"That's one of the things I wanted to know. Tell me something about +her." + +I felt some surprise, as Eleanor was of a nature too proud for +curiosity. + +"Why do you want to know?" + +"Because she interests me intensely. Is she young?" + +"About thirty-two." + +"Good-looking?" + +"She is a woman of remarkable personality." + +"Describe her." + +I tried, stumbled, and halted. The effort evoked in my mind a picture +of Lola lithe, seductive, exotic, with gold flecks in her dusky, +melting eyes, with strong shapely arms that had as yet only held me +motherwise, with her pantherine suggestion of tremendous strength in +languorous repose, with her lazy gestures and parted lips showing the +wonderful white even teeth, with all her fascination and charm--a +picture of Lola such as I had not seen since my emergence from the +Valley--a picture of Lola, generous, tender, wistful, strong, +yielding, fragrant, lovable, desirable, amorous--a picture of Lola +which I could not put before this other woman equally brave and +straight, who looked at me composedly out of her calm, blue eyes. + +My description resolved itself into a loutish catalogue. + +"It is not painful to you to talk of her, Simon?" + +"Not at all. There are not many great-hearted women going about. It is +my privilege to know two." + +"Am I the other?" + +"Who else?" + +"I'm glad you have the courage to class Madame Brandt and myself +together." + +"Why?" I asked. + +"It proves beyond a doubt that you are honest with me. Now tell me +about a few externals--things that don't matter--but help one to form +an impression. Is she educated?" + +"From books, no; from observation, yes." + +"Her manners?" + +"Observation had educated them." + +"Accent?" + +"She is sufficiently polyglot to have none." + +"She dresses and talks and behaves generally like a lady?" + +"She does," said I. + +"In what way then does she differ from the women of our class?" + +"She is less schooled, less reticent, franker, more natural. What is +on her tongue to say, she says." + +"Temper?" + +"I have never heard her say an angry word to or of a human creature. +She has queer delicacies of feeling. For instance----" + +I told her of Anastasius Papadopoulos's tawdry, gimcrack presents +which Lola has suffered to remain in her drawing-room so as not to +hurt the poor little wretch. + +"That's very touching. Where does she live?" + +"She has a flat in Cadogan Gardens." + +"Is she in London now?" + +"Yes." + +"I should like very much to know her," she said calmly. + +I vow and declare again that the more straightforward and open-eyed, +the less subtle, temperamental, and neurotic are women, the more are +they baffling. I had wondered for some time whither the catechism +tended, and now, with a sudden jerk, it stopped short at this most +unexpected terminus. It was startling. I rose and mechanically placed +my empty tea-cup on the tray by her side. + +"The wish, my dear Eleanor," said I, quite formally, "does great +credit to your heart." + +There was a short pause, marking an automatic close of the subject. +Deeply as I admired both women, I shrank from the idea of their +meeting. It seemed curiously indelicate, in view both of my former +engagement to Eleanor and of Lola's frank avowal of her feelings +towards me before what I shall always regard as my death. It is true +that we had never alluded to it since my resurrection; but what of +that? Lola's feelings, I was sure, remained unaltered. It also flashed +on me that, with all the goodwill in the world, Eleanor would not +understand Lola. An interview would develop into a duel. I pictured it +for a second, and my sudden fierce partisanship for Lola staggered me. +Decidedly an acquaintance between these two was preposterous. + +The silence was definite enough to mark a period, but not long enough +to cause embarrassment. Eleanor commented on my present employment. I +must find it good to get back to politics. + +"I find it to the contrary," said I, with a laugh. "My convictions, +always lukewarm, are now stone-cold. I don't say that the principles +of the party are wrong. But they're wrong for me, which is all- +important. If they are not right for me, what care I how right they +be? And as I don't believe in those of the other side, I'm going to +give up politics altogether." + +"What will you do?" + +"I don't know. I honestly don't. But I have an insistent premonition +that I shall soon find myself doing something utterly idiotic, which +to me will be the most real thing in life." + +I had indeed awakened that morning with an exhilarating thrill of +anticipation, comparable to that of the mountain climber who knows not +what panorama of glory may be disclosed to his eyes when he reaches +the summit. I had whistled in my bath--a most unusual thing. + +"Are you going to turn Socialist?" + +"/Qui lo sa/? I'm willing to turn anything alive and honest. It +doesn't matter what a man professes so long as he professes it with +all the faith of all his soul." + +I broke into a laugh, for the echo of my words rang comic in my ears. + +"Why do you laugh?" she asked. + +"Don't you think it funny to hear me talk like a two-penny Carlyle?" + +"Not a bit," she said seriously. + +"I can't undertake to talk like that always," I said warningly. + +"I thought you said you were going to be serious." + +"So I am--but platitudinous--Heaven forbid!" + +The little clock on the mantelpiece struck six. Eleanor rose in alarm. + +"How the time has flown! I must be getting back. Well?" + +Our eyes met. "Well?" said I. + +"Are we ever to meet again?" + +"It's for you to say." + +"No," she said. And then very distinctly, very deliberately, "It's for +you." + +I understood. She made the offer simply, nobly, unreservedly. My heart +was filled with great gratitude. She was so true, so loyal, so +thorough. Why could I not take her at her word? I murmured: + +"I'll remember what you say." + +She put out her hand. "Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye and God bless you!" I said. + +I accompanied her to the front door, hailed a passing cab, and waited +till she had driven off. Was there ever a sweeter, grander, more loyal +woman? The three little words had changed the current of my being. + +I returned to take leave of Agatha. I found her in the drawing-room +reading a novel. She twisted her head sideways and regarded me with a +bird-like air of curiosity. + +"Eleanor gone?" + +Her tone jarred on me. I nodded and dropped into a chair. + +"Interview passed off satisfactorily?" + +"We were quite comfortable, thank you. The only drawback was the tea. +Why a woman in your position can't give people China tea instead of +that Ceylon syrup will be a mystery to me to my dying day." + +She rose in her wrath and shook me. + +"You're the most aggravating wretch on earth!" + +"My dear Tom-Tit," said I gravely. "Remember the moral tale of +Bluebeard." + +"Look here, Simon"--she planted herself in front of me--"I'm not a bit +inquisitive. I don't in the least want to know what passed between you +and Eleanor. But what I would give my ears to understand is how you +can go through a two hours' conversation with the girl you were +engaged to--a conversation which must have affected the lives of both +of you--and then come up to me and talk drivel about China tea and +Bluebeard." + +"Once on a time, my dear," said I, "I flattered myself on being an +artist in life. I am humbler now and acknowledge myself a wretched +bungling amateur. But I still recognise the value of chiaroscuro." + +"You're hopeless," said Agatha, somewhat crossly. "You get more +flippant and cynical every day." + + + +CHAPTER XX + +I went home to my solitary dinner, and afterwards took down a volume +of Emerson and tried to read. I thought the cool and spacious +philosopher might allay a certain fever in my blood. But he did +nothing of the kind. He wrote for cool and spacious people like +himself; not for corpses like me revivified suddenly with an +overcharge of vital force. I pitched him--how much more truly +companionable is a book than its author!--I pitched him across the +room, and thrusting my hands in my pockets and stretching out my legs, +stared in a certain wonder at myself. + +I, Simon de Gex, was in love; and, /horribile dictu!/ in love with two +women at once. It was Oriental, Mormonic, New Century, what you will; +but there it was. I am ashamed to avow that if, at that moment, both +women had appeared before me and said "Marry us," I should have--well, +reflected seriously on the proposal. I had passed through curious +enough experiences, Heaven knows, already; but none so baffling as +this. The two women came alternately and knocked at my heart, and +whispered in my ear their irrefutable claims to my love. I listened +throbbingly to each, and to each I said, "I love you." + +I was in an extraordinary psychological predicament. Lola had +remarked, "You are not quite alive even yet." I had come to complete +life too suddenly. This was the result. I got up and paced the bird- +cage, which the house-agents termed a reception-room, and wondered +whether I were going mad. It was not as if one woman represented the +flesh and the other the spirit. Then I might have seen the way to a +decision. But both had the large nature that comprises all. I could +not exalt one in any way to the abasement of the other. All my +inherited traditions, prejudices, predilections, all my training +ranged me on the side of Eleanor. I was clamouring for the real. Was +she not the incarnation of the real? Her very directness piqued me to +a perverse and delicious obliquity. And I knew, as I knew when I +parted from her months before, that it was only for me to awaken +things that lay virginally dormant. On the other hand stood Lola, with +her magnetic seduction, her rich atmosphere, her great wide simplicity +of heart, holding out arms into which I longed to throw myself. + +It was monstrous, abnormal. I hated the abominable indelicacy of +weighing one against the other, as I had hated the idea of their +meeting. + +I paced my bird-cage until it shrank to the size of a rat-trap. Then I +clapped on my hat and fled down into the streets. I jumped into the +first cab I saw and bade the driver take me to Barbara's Building. +Campion suddenly occurred to me as the best antidote to the poison +that had entered my blood. + +I found him alone, clearing from the table the remains of supper. In +spite of his soul's hospitable instincts, he stared at me. + +"Why, what the----?" + +"Yes, I know. You're surprised to see me bursting in on you like a +wild animal. I'm not going to do it every night, but this evening I +claim a bit of our old friendship." + +"Claim it all, my dear de Gex!" he said cordially. "What can I do for +you?" + +It was characteristic of Campion to put his question in that form. +Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have asked what was the matter +with me. But Campion, who all his life had given, wanted to know what +he could co. + +"Tell me fairy tales of Lambeth and idylls of the Waterloo Bridge +Road. Or light your pipe and talk to me of Barbara." + +He folded up the tablecloth and put it in the sideboard drawer. + +"If it's elegant distraction you want," said he, "I can do better than +that." He planted himself in front of me. "Would you like to do a +night's real work?" + +"Certainly," said I. + +"A gentleman of my acquaintance named Judd is in the ramping stage of +/delirium tremens/. He requires a couple of men to hold him down so as +to prevent him from getting out of bed and smashing his furniture and +his wife and things. I was going to relieve one of the fellows there +now, so that he can get a few hours' sleep, and if you like to come +and relieve the other, you'll be doing a good action. But I warn you +it won't be funny." + +"I'm in the mood for anything," I said. + +"You'll come?" + +"Of course." + +"That's splendid!" he shouted. "I hardly thought you were in earnest. +Wait till I telephone for some medicine to be sent up from the +dispensary. I promised to take it round with me." + +He telephoned instructions, and presently a porter brought in the +medicine. Campion explained that it had been prescribed by the doctor +attached to the institution who was attending the case. + +"You must come and see the working of our surgery and dispensary!" he +cried enthusiastically. "We charge those who can afford a sixpence for +visit and medicine. Those who can't are provided, after inquiry, with +coupons. We don't want to encourage the well-to-do to get their +medical advice gratis, or we wouldn't be able to cope with the really +poor. We pay the doctor a fixed salary, and the fees go to the general +fund of the Building, so it doesn't matter a hang to him whether a +patient pays or not." + +"You must be proud of all this, Campion?" I said. + +"In a way," he replied, lighting his pipe; "but it's mainly a question +of money--my poor old father's money which he worked for, not I." + +I reminded him that other sons had been known to put their poor old +father's money to baser uses. + +"I suppose Barbara is more useful to the community that steam yachts +or racing stables; but there, you see, I hate yachting because I'm +always sea-sick, and I scarcely know which end of a horse you put the +bridle on. Every man to his job. This is mine. I like it." + +"I wonder whether holding down people suffering from /delirium +tremens/ is my job," said I. "If so, I'm afraid I shan't like it." + +"If it's really your job," replied Campion, "you will. You must. You +can't help it. God made man so." + +It was only an hour or two later when, for the first time in my life, +I came into practical touch with human misery, that I recognised the +truth of Campion's perfervid optimism. No one could like our task that +night in its outer essence. For a time it revolted me. The atmosphere +of the close, dirty room, bedroom, kitchen, dining-room, sitting-room, +bathroom, laundry--all in one, the home of man, wife and two children, +caught me by the throat. It was sour. The physical contact with the +flesh of the unclean, gibbering, shivering, maniacal brute on the foul +bed was unutterably repugnant to me. Now and again, during intervals +of comparative calm, I was forced to put my head out of the window to +breathe the air of the street. Even that was tainted, for a fried-fish +shop across the way and a public-house next door billowed forth their +nauseating odours. After a while access to the window was denied me. A +mattress and some rude coverings were stretched beneath it--the +children's bed--on which we persuaded the helpless, dreary wife to lie +down and try to rest. A neighbour had taken in the children for the +night. The wife was a skinny, grey-faced, lined woman of six-and- +twenty. In her attitude of hopeless incompetence she shed around her +an atmosphere of unspeakable depression. Although I could not get to +the window, I was glad when she lay down and spared me the sight of +her moving fecklessly about the room or weeping huddled up on a +broken-backed wooden chair and looking more like a half-animated dish- +clout than a woman. + +The poor wretch on the bed was a journeyman tailor who, when sober, +could earn fair wages. The cry of the wife, before Campion awed her +into comparative silence, was a monotonous upbraiding of her husband +for bringing them down to this poverty. It seemed impossible to touch +her intelligence and make her understand that no words from her or any +one could reach his consciousness. His violence, his screams, his +threats, the horrors of his fear left her unmoved. We were there to +guard her from physical danger, and that to her was all that mattered. + +In the course of an hour or so the nausea left me. I felt braced by +the grimness of the thing, and during the paroxysms I had no time to +think of anything but the mechanical work in hand. It was all that +Campion and I, both fairly able-bodied men, could do to keep the puny +little tailor in his bed. Horrible shapes menaced him from which he +fought madly to escape. He writhed and shrieked with terror. Once he +caught my hand in his teeth and bit it, and Campion had some +difficulty in relaxing the wretch's jaw. Between the paroxysms Campion +and I sat on the bed watching him, scarcely exchanging a word. The +wife, poor creature, whimpered on her mattress. It was not a pleasant +vigil. It lasted till the grey dawn crept in, pitilessly intensifying +the squalor of the room, and until the dawn was broadening into +daylight. Then two of Campion's men from Barbara's Building arrived to +relieve us. Before we went, however, the neighbour who had taken +charge of the children came in to help the slatternly wife light a +fire and make some tea. I have enjoyed few things more than the warm, +bitter stuff which I drank out of the broken mug in that strange and +depressing company. + +I went out into the street with racked head and nerves and muscles. +Campion kept his cloth cap in his hand, allowing the morning wind to +ruffle his shaggy black hair, and drew a long breath. + +"I think the worst is over now. As soon as he can be moved, I'll get +him down to the annexe at Broadstairs. The sea air will pull him +round." + +"Isn't it rather hopeless?" I asked. + +He turned on me. "Nothing's hopeless. If you once start the hopeless +game down here you'd better distribute cyanide of potassium instead of +coals and groceries. I've made up my mind to get that man decent +again, and, by George, I'm going to do it! Fancy those two weaklings +producing healthy offspring. But they have. Two of the most +intelligent kids in the district. If you hold up your hands and say +it's awful to contemplate their upbringing you're speaking the blatant +truth. It's the contemplation that's awful. But why contemplate when +you can do something?" + +I admitted the justice of the remark. He went on. + +"Look at yourself now. If you had gone in with me last night and just +stared at the poor devil howling with D.T. in that filthy place, you'd +have come out sick and said it was awful. Instead of that, you buckled +to and worked and threw off everything save our common humanity, and +have got interested in the Judds in spite of yourself. You'll go and +see them again and do what you can for them, won't you?" + +I was not in a merry mood, but I laughed. Campion had read the +intention that had vaguely formulated itself in the back of my mind. + +"Of course I will," I said. + +We walked on a few steps down the still silent, disheartening street +without speaking. Then he tugged his beard, half-halted, and glanced +at me quickly. + +"See here," said he, "the more sensible people I can get in to help us +the better. Would you like me to hand you over the Judd family /en +bloc/?" + +This was startling to the amateur philanthropist. But it is the way of +all professionals to regard their own business as of absorbing +interest to the outside world. The stockbroking mind cannot conceive a +sane man indifferent to the fluctuations of the money market, and to +the professional cricketer the wide earth revolves around a wicket. +How in the world could I be fairy godfather to the Judd family? +Campion took my competence for granted. + +"You may not understand exactly what I mean, my dear Campion," said I; +"but I attribute the most unholy disasters of my life to a ghastly +attempt of mine to play Deputy Providence." + +"But who's asking you to play Deputy Providence?" he shouted. "It's +the very last idiot thing I want done. I want you to do certain +definite practical work for that family under the experienced +direction of the authorities at Barbara's Building. There, do you +understand now?" + +"Very well, I'll do anything you like." + +Thus it befell that I undertook to look after the moral, material, and +spiritual welfare of the family of an alcoholic tailor by the name of +Judd who dwelt in a vile slum in South Lambeth. My head was full of +the prospect when I awoke at noon, for I had gone exhausted to sleep +as soon as I reached home. If goodwill, backed by the experience of +Barbara's Building, could do aught towards the alleviation of human +misery, I determined that it should be done. And there was much misery +to be alleviated in the Judd family. I had no clear notion of the +means whereby I was to accomplish this; but I knew that it would be a +philanthropic pursuit far different from my previous eumoirous +wanderings abut London when, with a mind conscious of well-doing, I +distributed embarrassing five-pound notes to the poor and needy. + +I had known--what comfortable, well-fed gentleman does not?--that +within easy walking distance of his London home thousands of human +beings live like the beasts that perish; but never before had I spent +an intimate night in one of the foul dens where the living and +perishing take place. The awful pity of it entered my soul. + +So deeply was I impressed with the responsibility of what I had +undertaken, so grimly was I haunted by the sight of the pallid, +howling travesty of a man and the squeezed-out, whimpering woman, that +the memory of the conflicting emotions that had driven me to Campion +the night before returned to me with a shock. + +"It strikes me," I murmured, as I shaved, "that I am living very +intensely indeed. Here am I in love with two women at once, and almost +hysterically enthusiastic over a delirious tailor." Then I cut my +cheek and murmured no more, until the operation was concluded. + +I had arranged to accompany Lola that afternoon to the Zoological +Gardens. This was a favourite resort of hers. She was on intimate +terms with keepers and animals, and her curious magnetism allowed her +to play such tricks with lions and tigers and other ferocious beasts +as made my blood run cold. As for the bears, they greeted her approach +with shrieking demonstrations of affection. On such occasions I felt +the same curious physical antipathy as I did when she had dominated +Anastasius's ill-conditioned cat. She seemed to enter another sphere +of being in which neither I nor anything human had a place. + +With some such dim thoughts in my head, I reached her door in Cadogan +Gardens. The sight of her electric brougham that stood waiting +switched my thoughts into another groove, but one running oddly +parallel. Electric broughams also carried her out of my sphere. I had +humbly performed the journey thither in an omnibus. + +She received me in her big, expansive way. + +"Lord! How good it is to see you. I was getting the--I was going to +say 'the blind hump'--but you don't like it. I was going to turn crazy +and bite the furniture." + +"Why?" I asked with masculine directness. + +"I've been trying to educate myself--to read poetry. Look here"--she +caught a small brown-covered octavo volume from the table. "I can't +make head or tail of it. It proved to me that it was no use. If I +couldn't understand poetry, I couldn't understand anything. It was no +good trying to educate myself. I gave it up. And then I got what you +don't like me to call the hump." + +"You dear Lola!" I cried, laughing. "I don't believe any one has ever +made head or tail out of 'Sordello.' There once was a man who said +there were only two intelligible lines in the poem--the first and the +last--and that both were lies. 'Who will, may hear Sordello's story +told,' and 'Who would, has heard Sordello's story told.' Don't worry +about not understanding it." + +"Don't you?" + +"Not a bit," said I. + +"That's a comfort," she said, with a generous sigh of relief. "How +well you're looking!" she cried suddenly. "You're a different man. +What have you been doing to yourself?" + +"I've grown quite alive." + +"Good! Delightful! So am I. Quite alive now, thank you." + +She looked it, in spite of the black outdoor costume. But there was a +dash of white at her throat and some white lilies of the valley in her +bosom, and a white feather in her great black hat poised with a +Gainsborough swagger on the mass of her bronze hair. + +"It's the spring," she added. + +"Yes," said I, "it's the spring." + +She approached me and brushed a few specks of dust from my shoulder. + +"You want a new suit of clothes, Simon." + +"Dear me!" said I, glancing hastily over the blue serge suit in which +I had lounged at Mustapha Superieur. "I suppose I do." + +It occurred to me that my wardrobe generally needed replenishing. I +had been unaccustomed to think of these things, the excellent Rogers +and his predecessors having done most of the thinking for me. + +"I'll go to Poole's at once," said I. + +And then it struck me, to my whimsical dismay, that in the present +precarious state of my finances, especially in view of my decision to +abandon political journalism in favour of I knew not what occupation, +I could not afford to order clothes largely from a fashionable tailor. + +"I shouldn't have mentioned it," said Lola apologetically, "but you're +always so spick and span." + +"And now I'm getting shabby!" + +I threw back my head and laughed at the new and comical conception of +Simon de Gex down at heel. + +"Oh, not shabby!" echoed Lola. + +"Yes, my dear. The days of purple and fine linen are /vorbei/. You'll +have to put up with me in a threadbare coat and frayed cuffs and +ragged hems to my trousers." + +Lola declared that I was talking rubbish. + +"Not quite such rubbish as you may think, my dear. Shall you mind?" + +"It would break my heart. But why do you talk so? You can't be--as +poor--as that?" + +Her face manifested such tragic concern that I laughed. Besides, the +idea of personal poverty amused me. When I gave up my political work I +should only have what I had saved from my wreck--some two hundred a +year--to support me until I should find some other means of +livelihood. It was enough to keep me from starvation, and the little +economies I had begun to practise afforded me enjoyment. On the other +hand, how folks regulated their balance-sheets so as to live on two +hundred a year I had but a dim notion. In the course of our walk from +Barbara's Building to the Judds the night before I had asked Campion. +He had laughed somewhat grimly. + +"I don't know. I don't run an asylum for spendthrift plutocrats; but +if you want to see how people live and bring up large families on +fifteen shillings a week, I can show you heaps of examples." + +This I felt would, in itself, be knowledge of the deepest interest; +but it would in no way aid me to solve my own economic difficulty. I +was always being brought up suddenly against the problem in some form +or another, and, as I say, it caused me considerable amusement. + +"I shall go on happily enough," said I, reassuringly. "In the meantime +let us go and see the lions and tigers." + +We started. The electric brougham glided along comfortably through the +sunlit streets. A feeling of physical and spiritual content stole over +me. Our hands met and lingered a long time in a sympathetic clasp. +Whatever fortune held in store for me here at least I had an +inalienable possession. For some time we said nothing, and when our +eyes met she smiled. I think she had never felt my heart so near to +hers. At last we broke the silence and talked of ordinary things. I +told her of my vigil overnight and my undertaking to look after the +Judds. She listened with great interest. When I had finished my tale, +she said almost passionately: + +"Oh, I wish I could do something like that!" + +"You?" + +"Why not? I came from those people. My grandfather swept the cages in +Jamrach's down by the docks. He died of drink. He used to live in one +horrible, squalid room near by. I remember my father taking me to see +him when I was a little girl--we ourselves weren't very much better +off at that time. I've been through it," she shivered. "I know what +that awful poverty is. Sometimes it seems immoral of me to live +luxuriously as I do now without doing a hand's turn to help." + +"/Chacun a son metier/, my dear," said I. "There's no need to reproach +yourself." + +"But I think it might be my /metier/," she replied earnestly, "if only +I could learn it." + +"Why haven't you tried, then?" + +"I've been lazy and the opportunity hasn't come my way." + +"I'll introduce you to Campion," I said, "and doubtless he'll be able +to find something for you to do. He has made a science of the matter. +I'll take you down to see him." + +"Will you?" + +"Certainly," said I. There was a pause. Then an idea struck me. "I +wonder, my dear Lola, whether you could apply that curious power you +have over savage animals to the taming of the more brutal of humans." + +"I wonder," she said thoughtfully. + +"I should like to see you seize a drunken costermonger in the act of +jumping on his wife by the scruff of the neck, and reduce him to such +pulp that he sat up on his tail and begged." + +"Oh, Simon!" she exclaimed reproachfully. "I quite thought you were +serious." + +"So I am, my dear," I returned quickly, "as serious as I can be." + +She laughed. "Do you remember the first day you came to see me? You +said that I could train any human bear to dance to whatever tune I +pleased. I wonder if the same thought was at the back of your head." + +"It wasn't. It was a bad and villainous thought. I came under the +impression that you were a dangerous seductress." + +"And I'm not?" + +Oh, that spring day, that delicious tingle in the air, that laughing +impertinence of the budding trees in the park through which we were +then driving, that enveloping sense of fragrance and the nearness and +the dearness of her! Oh, that overcharge of vitality! I leaned my head +to hers so that my lips nearly touched her ear. My voice shook. + +"You're a seductress and a witch and a sorcerer and an enchantress." + +The blood rose to her dark face. She half closed her eyes. + +"What else am I?" she murmured. + +But, alas! I had not time to answer, for the brougham stopped at the +gates of the Zoological Gardens. We both awakened from our +foolishness. My hand was on the door-handle when she checked me. + +"What's the good of a mind if you can't change it? I don't feel in a +mood for wild beasts to-day, and I know you don't care to see me +fooling about with them. I would much rather sit quiet and talk to +you." + +With a woman who wants to sacrifice herself there is no disputing. +Besides, I had no desire to dispute. I acquiesced. We agreed to +continue our drive. + +"We'll go round by Hampstead Heath," she said to the chauffeur. As +soon as we were in motion again, she drew ever so little nearer and +said, in her lowest, richest notes, and with a coquetry that was +bewildering on account of its frankness: + +"What were we talking of before we pulled up?" + +"I don't know what we were talking of," I said, "but we seem to have +trodden on the fringe of a fairy-tale." + +"Can't we tread on it again?" She laughed happily. + +"You have only to cast the spell of your witchery over me again." + +She drew yet a little nearer and whispered: "I'm trying to do it as +hard as I can." + +An adorable softness came into her eyes, and her hand instinctively +closed round mine in its boneless clasp. The long pent-up longing of +the woman vibrated from her in waves that shook me to my soul. My +senses swam. Her face quivered glorious before me in a black world. +Her lips were parted. Careless of all the eyes in all the houses in +the Avenue Road, St. John's Wood, and in the head of a telegraph boy +whom I only noticed afterwards, I kissed her on the lips. + +All the fulness and strength of life danced through my veins. + +"I told you I was quite alive!" I said with idiotic exultation. + +She closed her eyes and leaned back. "Why did you do that?" she +murmured. + +"Because I love you," said I. "It has come at last." + +Where we drove I have no recollection. Presumably an impression of +green rolling plain with soft uplands in the distance signified that +we passed along Hampstead Heath; the side thoroughfare with villa +residences on either side may have been Kilburn High Road; the +flourishing, busy, noisy suburb may have been Kilburn: the street +leading thence to the Marble Arch may have been Maida Vale. To me they +were paths in Dreamland. We spoke but little and what we did say was +in the simple, commonplace language which all men use in the big +crises of life. + +There was no doubt now of my choice. I loved her. Love had come to me +at last. That was all I knew at that hour and all I cared to know. + +Lola was the first to awake from Dreamland. She shivered. I asked +whether she felt cold. + +"No. I can't believe that you love me. I can't. I can't." + +I smiled in a masterful way. "I can soon show you that I do." + +She shook her head. "I'm afraid, Simon, I'm afraid." + +"What of?" + +"Myself." + +"Why?" + +"I can't tell you. I can't explain. I don't know how to. I've been +wrong--horribly wrong. I'm ashamed." + +She gripped her hands together and looked down at them. I bent forward +so as to see her face, which was full of pain. + +"But, dearest of all women," I cried, "what in the world have you to +be ashamed of?" + +She paused, moistened her lips with her tongue, and then broke out: + +"I'll tell you. A decent lady like your Eleanor Faversham wouldn't +tell. But I can't keep these things in. Didn't you begin by saying I +was a seductress? No, no, let me talk. Didn't you say I could make a +man do what I wanted? Well, I wanted you to kiss me. And now you've +done it, you think you love me; but you don't, you can't." + +"You're talking the wickedest nonsense that ever proceeded out of the +lips of a loving woman," I said aghast. "I repeat in the most solemn +way that I love you with all my heart." + +"In common decency you couldn't say otherwise." + +Again I saw the futility of disputation. I put my hand on hers. + +"Time will show, dear. At any rate, we have had our hour of +fairyland." + +"I wish we hadn't," she said. "Don't you see it was only my sorcery, +as you call it, that took us there? I meant us to go." + +At last we reached Cadogan Gardens. I descended and handed her out, +and we entered the hall of the mansions. The porter stood with the +lift-door open. + +"I'm coming up to knock all this foolishness out of your head." + +"No, don't, please, for Heaven's sake!" she whispered imploringly. "I +must be alone--to think it all out. It's only because I love you so. +And don't come to see me for a day or two--say two days. This is +Wednesday. Come on Friday. You think it over as well. And if it's +really true--I'll know then--when you come. Good-bye, dear. Make Gray +drive you wherever you want to go." + +She wrung my hand, turned and entered the lift. The gates swung to and +she mounted out of sight. I went slowly back to the brougham, and gave +the chauffeur the address of my eyrie. He touched his hat. I got in +and we drove off. And then, for the first time, it struck me that an +about-to-be-shabby gentleman with a beggarly two hundred a year, ought +not, in spite of his quarterings, to be contemplating marriage with a +wealthy woman who kept an electric brougham. The thought hit me like a +stone in the midriff. + +What on earth was to be done? My pride rose up like the /deux ex +machina/ in the melodrama and forbade the banns. To live on Lola's +money--the idea was intolerable. Equally intolerable was the idea of +earning an income by means against the honesty of which my soul +clamoured aloud. + +"Good God!" I cried. "Is life, now I've got to it, nothing but an +infinite series of dilemmas? No sooner am I off one than I'm on +another. No sooner do I find that Lola and not Eleanor Faversham is +the woman sent down by Heaven to be my mate than I realise the same +old dilemma--Lola on one horn and Eleanor replaced on the other by +Pride and Honour and all sorts of capital-lettered considerations. +Life is the very Deuce," said I, with a wry appreciation of the +subtlety of language. + +Why did Lola say: "Your Eleanor Faversham?" + +I had enough to think over for the rest of the evening. But I slept +peacefully. Light loves had come and gone in the days past; but now +for the first time love that was not light had come into my life. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +"The Lord will find a way out of the dilemma," said I confidently to +myself as I neared Cadogan Gardens two days after the revelatory +drive. "Lola is in love with me and I am in love with Lola, and there +is nothing to keep us apart but my pride over a matter of a few ha'- +pence." I felt peculiarly jaunty. I had just posted to Finch the last +of the articles I had agreed to write for his reactionary review, and +only a couple of articles for another journal remained to be written +in order to complete my literary engagements. Soon I should be out of +the House of Bondage in which I had been a slave, at first willingly +and now rebelliously, from my cradle. The great wide world with its +infinite opportunities for development received my liberated spirit. I +had broken the shackles of caste. I had thrown off the perfumed +garments of epicureanism, the vesture of my servitude. My emotions, +once stifled in the enervating atmosphere, now awake fresh and strong +in the free air. I was elemental--the man wanting the woman; and I was +happy because I knew I was going to get her. Such must be the state of +being of a dragonfly on a sunny day. And--shall I confess it?--I had +obeyed the dragon-fly's instinct and attired myself in the most +resplendent raiment in my wardrobe. My morning coat was still +irreproachable, my patent leather boots still gleamed, and having had +some business in Piccadilly I had stepped into my hatter's and emerged +with my silk hat newly ironed. I positively strutted along the +pavement. + +For two days I had not seen her or heard from her or written to her. I +had scrupulously respected her wishes, foolish though they were. Now I +was on my way to convince her that my love was not a moment's surge of +the blood on a spring afternoon. I would take her into my arms at +once, after the way of men, and she, after the way of women, would +yield adorably. I had no doubt of it. I tasted in anticipation the +bliss of that first embrace as if I had never kissed a woman in my +life. And, indeed, what woman had I kissed with the passion that now +ran through my veins? In that embrace all the ghosts of the past women +would be laid for ever and a big and lusty future would make glorious +beginning. "By Heaven," I cried, almost articulately, "with the +splendour of the world at my command why should I not write plays, +novels, poems, rhapsodies, so as to tell the blind, groping, loveless +people what it is like? + +"Take me up to Madame Brandt!" said I to the lift-porter. "Madame +Brandt is not in town, sir," said the man. + +I looked at him open-mouthed. "Not in town?" + +"I think she has gone abroad, sir. She left with a lot of luggage +yesterday, and her maid, and now the flat is shut up." + +"Impossible!" I cried aghast. + +The porter smiled. "I can only tell you what has happened, sir." + +"Where has she gone to?" + +"I couldn't say, sir." + +"Her letters? Has she left no address to which they are to be +forwarded?" + +"Not with me, sir." + +"Did she say when she was coming back?" + +"No, sir. But she dismissed her cook with a month's wages, so it seems +as though she was gone for a good spell." + +"What time yesterday did she leave?" + +"After lunch. The cabman was to drive her to Victoria--London, Chatham +and Dover Railway." + +"That looks like the 2.20 to Paris," said I. + +But the lift-porter knew nothing of this. He had given me all the +information in his power. I thanked him and went out into the sunshine +a blinking, dazed, bewildered and piteously crushed man. + +She had gone, without drum or trumpet, maid and baggage and all, +having dismissed her cook and shut up the flat. It was incredible. I +wandered aimlessly about Chelsea trying to make up my mind what to do. +Should I go to Paris and bring her back by main force? But how did I +know that she had gone to Paris? And if she was there how could I +discover her address? Suddenly an idea struck me. She would not have +left Quast and the cattery in the same unceremonious fashion to get on +as best they might. She would have given Quast money and directions. +At any rate, he would know more than the lift-porter of the mansions. +I decided to go to him forthwith. + +By means of trains and omnibuses I arrived at the house in the little +street off Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, where the maker of gymnastic +appliances had his being. I knocked at the door. A grubby man +appeared. I inquired for Quast. + +Quast had left that morning in a van, taking his cages of cats with +him. He had gone abroad and was never coming back again, not if he +knew it, said the grubby man. The cats were poison and Quast was a +low-down foreigner, and it would cost him a year's rent to put the +place in order again. Whereupon he slammed the door in my face and +left me disconsolate on the doorstep. + +The only other person with whom I knew Lola to be on friendly terms +was Sir Joshua Oldfield. I entered the first public telephone office I +came to and rang him up. He had not seen Lola for a week, and had +heard nothing from her relating to her sudden departure. I went sadly +home to my bird-cage in Victoria Street, feeling that now at last the +abomination of desolation had overspread my life. + +Why had she gone? What was the meaning of it? Why not a line of +explanation? And the simultaneous disappearance of Quast and the cats +--what did that betoken? Had she been summoned, for any reason, to the +Maison de Sante, where Anastasius Papadopoulos was incarcerated? If +so, why this secrecy? Why should Lola of all people side with Destiny +and make a greater Tom Fool of me than ever? This could be no other +than the final jest. + +I do not care to remember what I did and said in the privacy of my +little room. There are things a man locks away even from himself. + +I was in the midst of my misery when the bell of my tiny flat rang. I +opened the door and found my sister Agatha smiling on the threshold. + +"Hallo!" said I, gazing at her stupidly. + +"You're not effusive in your welcome, my dear Simon," she remarked. +"Won't you ask me to come in?" + +"By all means," said I. "Come in!" + +She entered and looked round my little sitting-room. "What a pill-box +in the sky! I had no idea it was as tiny as this. I think I shall call +you Saint Simon Stylites." + +I was in no mood for Agatha. I bowed ironically and inquired to what I +owed the honour of the visit. + +"I want you to do me a favour--a great favour. I'm dying to see the +new dances at the Palace Theatre. They say they dance on everything +except their feet. I've got a box. Tom promised to take me. Now he +finds he can't. I've telephoned all over the place for something +uncompromising in or out of trousers to accompany me and I can't get +hold of anybody. So I've come to you." + +"I'm vastly flattered!" said I. + +She dismissed my sarcasm with bird-like impatience. + +"Don't be silly. If I had thought you would like it, I should have +come to you first. I didn't want to bore you. But I did think you +would pull me out of a hole." + +"What's a hole?" I asked. + +"I've paid for a box and I can't go by myself. How can I? Do take me, +there's a dear." + +"I'm afraid I'm too dull for haunts of merriment," said I. + +She regarded me reproachfully. + +"It isn't often I ask you to put yourself out for me. The last time +was when I asked you to be the baby's godfather. And a pretty +godfather you've been. I bet you anything you don't remember the +name." + +"I do," said I. + +"What's it then?" + +"It's--it's----" I snapped my fingers. The brat's name had for the +moment gone out of my distracted head. She broke into a laugh and ran +her arm through mine. + +"Dorcas." + +"Yes, of course--Dorcas. I was going to say so." + +"Then you were going to say wrong, for it's Dorothy. Now you /must/ +come--for the sake of penance." + +"I'll do anything you please!" I cried in desperation, "so long as +you'll not talk to me of my own affairs and will let me sit as glum as +ever I choose." + +Then for the first time she manifested some interest in my mood. She +put her head to one side and scanned my face narrowly. + +"What's the matter, Simon?" + +"I've absorbed too much life the last few days," said I, "and now I've +got indigestion." + +"I'm sorry, dear old boy, whatever it is," she said affectionately. +"Come round and dine at 7.30, and I promise not to worry you." + +What could I do? I accepted. The alternative to procuring Agatha an +evening's amusement was pacing up and down my bird-cage and beating my +wings (figuratively) and perhaps my head (literally) against the bars. + +"It's awfully sweet of you," said Agatha. "Now I'll rush home and +dress." + +I accompanied her down the lift to the front door, and attended her to +her carriage. + +"I'll do you a good turn some day, dear," she said as she drove off. + +I rather flatter myself that Agatha had no reason to complain of my +dulness at dinner. In my converse with her I was faced by various +alternatives. I might lay bare my heart, tell her of my love for Lola +and my bewildered despair at her desertion; this I knew she would no +more understand than if I had proclaimed a mad passion for a young +lady who had waited on me at a tea-shop, or for a cassowary at the +Zoo; even the best and most affectionate of sisters have their +sympathetic limitations. I might have maintained a mysterious and +Byronic gloom; this would have been sheer bad manners. I might have +attributed my lack of spontaneous gaiety to toothache or stomach-ache; +this would have aroused sisterly and matronly sympathies, and I should +have had the devil's own job to escape from the house unpoisoned by +the nostrums that lurk in the medicine chest of every well-conducted +family. Agatha, I knew, had a peculiarly Borgiaesque equipment. +Lastly, there was the worldly device, which I adopted, of +dissimulating the furnace of my affliction beneath a smiling exterior. +Agatha, therefore, found me an entertaining guest and drove me to the +Palace Theatre in high good humour. + +There, however, I could resign my role of entertainer in favour of the +professionals on the stage. I sat back in my corner of the box and +gave myself up to my harassing concerns. Young ladies warbled, comic +acrobats squirted siphons at each other and kicked each other in the +stomach, jugglers threw plates and brass balls with dizzying skill, +the famous dancers gyrated pyrotechnically, the house applauded with +delight, Agatha laughed and chuckled and clapped her hands and I +remained silent, unnoticed and unnoticing in my reflective corner, +longing for the foolery to end. Where was Lola? Why had she forsaken +me? What remedy, in the fiend's name, was there for this heart torture +within me? The most excruciating agonies of the little pain inside +were child's play to this. I bit my lips so as not to groan aloud and +contorted my features into the semblance of a smile. + +During a momentary interval there came a knock at the box door. I +said, "Come in!" The door opened, and there, to my utter amazement, +stood Dale Kynnersley--Dale, sleek, alert, smiling, attired in the +very latest nicety of evening dress affected by contemporary youth-- +Dale such as I knew and loved but six months ago. + +He came forward to Agatha, who was little less astounded than myself. + +"How d'ye do, Lady Durrell? I'm in the stalls with Harry Essendale. I +tried to catch your eye, but couldn't. So I thought I'd come up." He +turned to me with frank outstretched hand, "How do, Simon?" + +I grasped his hand and murmured something unintelligible. The thing +was so extraordinary, so unexpected that my wits went wandering. Dale +carried off the situation lightly. It was he who was the man of the +world, and I the unresourceful stumbler. + +"He's looking ripping, isn't he, Lady Durrell? I met old Oldfield the +other day, and he was raving about your case. The thing has never been +done before. Says they're going mad over your chap in Paris--they've +given him medals and wreaths and decorations till he goes about like a +prize bull at a fair. By Jove, it's good to see you again." + +"You might have taken an earlier opportunity," Agatha remarked with +some acidity. + +"So I might," retorted Dale blandly; "but when a man's a born ass it +takes him some time to cultivate sense! I've been wanting to see you +for a long time, Simon--and to-night I just couldn't resist it. You +don't want to kick me out?" + +"Heaven forbid," said I, somewhat brokenly, for the welcome sight of +his face and the sound of his voice aroused emotions which even now I +do not care to analyse. "It was generous of you to come up." + +He coloured. "Rot!" said he, in his breezy way. "Hallo! The curtain's +going up. What's the next item? Oh, those fool dogs!" + +"I adore performing dogs!" said Agatha, looking toward the stage. + +He turned to me. "Do you?" + +The last thing on earth I desired to behold at that moment was a +performing animal. My sensitiveness led me to suspect a quizzical look +in Dale's eye. Fortunately, he did not wait for my answer, but went on +in a boyish attempt to appease Agatha. + +"I don't despise them, you know, Lady Durrell, but I've seen them +twice before. They're really rather good. There's a football match at +the end which is quite exciting." + +"Oh, the beauties!" cried Agatha over her shoulder as the dogs trotted +on the stage. I nodded an acknowledgment of the remark, and she +plunged into rapt contemplation of the act. Dale and I stood at the +back of the box. Suddenly he whispered: + +"Come out into the corridor. I've something to say to you." + +"Certainly," said I, and followed him out of the box. + +He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked at me with the defiant +and you-be-damned air of the young Briton who was about to commit a +gracious action. I knew what he was going to say. I could tell by his +manner. I dreaded it, and yet I loved him for it. + +"Why say anything, my dear boy?" I asked. "You want to be friends with +me again, and God knows I want to be friends again with you. Why +talk?" + +"I've got to get if off my chest," said he, in his so familiar +vernacular. "I want to tell you that I've been every end of a silly +ass and I want you to forgive me." + +I vow I have never felt so miserably guilty towards any human being as +I did at that moment. I have never felt such a smug-faced hypocrite. +It was a humiliating position. I had inflicted on him a most grievous +wrong, and here he was pleading for forgiveness. I could not pronounce +the words of pardon. He misinterpreted my silence. + +"I know I've behaved rottenly to you since you've been back, but the +first step's always so difficult. You mustn't bear a grudge against +me." + +"My dear boy!" I cried, my hand on his shoulder, touched to the heart +by his simple generosity, "don't let us talk of grudges and +forgiveness. All I want to know is whether you're contented?" + +"Contented?" he cried. "I should just think I am. I'm the happiest ass +that doesn't eat thistles!" + +"Explain yourself, my dear Dale," said I, relapsing into my old +manner. + +"I'm going to marry Maisie Ellerton." + +I took him by the arm and dragged him inside the box. + +"Agatha," said I, "leave those confounded dogs for a moment and attend +to serious matters. This young man has not come up to see either of +us, but to obtain our congratulations. He's going to marry Maisie +Ellerton." + +"Tell me all about it," said Agatha intensely interested. + +A load of responsibility rolled off my shoulders like Christian's +pack. I looked at the dog football match with the interest of a +Sheffield puddler at a Cup-tie, and clapped my hands. + +An hour or so later after we had seen Agatha home, and Dale had +incidentally chucked Lord Essendale (the phrase is his own), we were +sitting over whisky and soda and cigars in my Victoria Street flat. +The ingenuousness of youth had insisted on this prolongation of our +meeting. He had a thousand things to tell me. They chiefly consisted +in a reiteration of the statement that he had been a rampant and +unimagined silly ass, and that Maisie, who knew the whole lunatic +story, was a brick, and a million times too good for him. When he +entered my humble lodging he looked round in a bewildered manner. + +"Why on earth are you living in this mouse-trap?" + +"Agatha calls it a pill-box. I call it a bird-cage. I live here, my +dear boy, because it is the utmost I can afford." + +"Rot! I've been your private secretary and know what your income is." + +I sighed heavily. I shall have to get a leaflet printed setting out +the causes that led to my change of fortune. Then I can hand it to +such of my friends as manifest surprise. + +Indeed, I had grown so used to the story of my lamentable pursuit of +the eumoirous that I rattled it off mechanically after the manner of +the sturdy beggar telling his mendacious tale of undeserved +misfortune. To Dale, however, it was fresh. He listened to it open- +eyed. When I had concluded, he brought his hand down on the arm of the +chair. + +"By Jove, you're splendid! I always said you were. Just splendid!" + +He gulped down half a tumbler of whisky and soda to hide his feelings. + +"And you've been doing all this while I've been making a howling fool +of myself! Look here, Simon, you were right all along the line--from +the very first when you tackled me about Lola. Do you remember?" + +"Why refer to it?" I asked. + +"I must!" he burst in quickly. "I've been longing to put myself square +with you. By the way, where is Lola?" + +"I don't know," said I with grim truthfulness. + +"Don't know? Has she vanished?" + +"Yes," said I. + +"That's the end of it, I suppose. Poor Lola! She was an awfully good +sort you know!" said Dale, "and I won't deny I was hit. That's when I +came such a cropper. But I realise now how right you were. I was just +caught by the senses, nothing else; and when she wrote to say it was +all off between us my vanity suffered--suffered damnably, old chap. I +lost the election through it. Didn't attend to business. That brought +me to my senses. Then Essendale took me away yachting, and I had a +quiet time to think; and after that I somehow took to seeing more of +Maisie. You know how things happen. And I'm jolly grateful to you, old +chap. You've saved me from God knows what complications! After all, +good sort as Lola is, it's rot for a man to go outside his own class, +isn't it?" + +"It depends upon the man--and also the woman," said I, beginning to +derive peculiar torture from the conversation. + +Dale shook his wise head. "It never comes off," said he. After a pause +he laughed aloud. "Don't you remember the lecture you gave me? My +word, you did talk! You produced a string of ghastly instances where +the experiment had failed. Let me see, who was there, Paget, Merridew, +Bullen. Ha! Ha! No, I'm well out of it, old chap--thanks to you." + +"If any good has come of this sorry business," said I gravely, "I'm +only too grateful to Providence." + +He caught the seriousness of my tone. + +"I didn't want to touch on that side of it," he said awkwardly. "I +know what an infernal time you had! It must have been Gehenna. I +realise now that it was on my account, and so I can never do enough to +show my gratitude." + +He finished his glass of whisky and walked about the tiny room. + +"What has always licked me," he said at length, "is why she never told +me she was married. It's so curious, for she was as straight as they +make them. It's devilish odd!" + +"Yes," I assented wearily, for every word of this talk was a new pain. +"Devilish odd!" + +"I suppose it's a question of class again." + +"Or sex," said I. + +"What has sex to do with being straight?" + +"Everything," said I. + +"Rot!" said Dale. + +I sighed. "I wish your dialectical vocabulary were not so limited." + +He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. + +"Still the same old Simon. It does my heart good to hear you. May I +have another whisky?" + +I took advantage of this break to change the conversation. He had told +me nothing of his own affairs save that he was engaged to Maisie +Ellerton. + +"Heavens!" cried he. "Isn't that enough?" + +"An engagement isn't an occupation." + +"Isn't it, by Jove?" He laughed boyishly. "I manage, however, to +squeeze in a bit of work now and then. The mater has always got plenty +on hand for me, and I do things for Raggles. He has been awfully +decent. The first time I met him or any of the chiefs after the +election I was in a blue funk. But no one seemed to blame me; they all +said they were sorry; and now Raggles is looking out for a +constituency for me to nurse for the next General Election. Then +things /will/ hum, I promise you!" + +He waved his cigar with the air of a young paladin about to conquer +the world. In spite of my own depression, I could not help smiling +with gladness at the sight of him. With his extravagantly cut +waistcoat, his elaborately exquisite white tie, his perfectly fitting +evening clothes, with his supple ease of body, his charming manner, +the preposterous fellow made as gallant a show as any ruffling blade +in powder and red-heeled shoes. He had acquired, too, an extra touch +of manhood since I had seen him last. I felt proud of him, conscious +that to the making of him I had to some small degree contributed. + +"You must come out and lunch with Maisie and me one day this week," +said he. "She would love to see you." + +"Wait till you're married," said I, "and then we'll consider it. At +present Maisie is under the social dominion of her parents." + +"Well--what of it?" + +"Just that," said I. + +Then the truth dawned on him. He grew excited and said it was +damnable. He wasn't going to stand by and see people believe a lot of +scandalous lies about me. He had no idea people had given me the cold +shoulder. He would jolly well (such were his words) take a something +(I forget the adjective) megaphone and trumpet about society what a +splendid fellow I was. + +"I'll tell everybody the whole silly-ass story about myself from +beginning to end," he declared. + +I checked him. "You're very generous, my dear boy," said I, "but +you'll do me a favour by letting folks believe what they like." And +then I explained, as delicately as I could, how his sudden +championship could be of little advantage to me, and might do him +considerable harm. + +In his impetuous manner he cut short my carefully-expressed argument. + +"Rubbish! Heaps of people I know are already convinced that I was +keeping Lola Brandt and that you took her from me in the ordinary +vulgar way--" + +"Yes, yes," I interrupted, shrinking. "That's why I order you, in +God's name, to leave the whole thing alone." + +"But confound it, man! I've come out of it all right, why shouldn't +you? Even supposing Lola was a loose woman--" + +I threw up my hand. "Stop!" + +He looked disconcerted for a moment. + +"We know she isn't, but for the sake of argument--" + +"Don't argue," said I. "Let us drop it." + +"But hang it all!" he shouted in desperation. "Can't I do something! +Can't I go and kick somebody?" + +I lost my self-control. I rose and put both my hands on his shoulders +and looked him in the eyes. + +"You can kick anybody you please whom you hear breathe a word against +the honour and purity of Madame Lola Brandt." + +Then I walked away, knowing I had betrayed myself, and tried to light +a cigar with fingers that shook. There was a pause. Dale stood with +his back to the fireplace, one foot on the fender. The cigar took some +lighting. The pause grew irksome. + +"My regard for Madame Brandt," said I at last, "is such that I don't +wish to discuss her with any one." I looked at Dale and met his keen +eyes fixed on me. The faintest shadow of a smile played about his +mouth. + +"Very well," said he dryly, "we won't discuss her. But all the same, +my dear Simon, I can't help being interested in her; and as you're +obviously the same, it seems rather curious that you don't know where +she is." + +"Do you doubt me?" I asked, somewhat staggered by his tone. + +"Good Heaven's, no! But if she has disappeared, I'm convinced that +something has happened which I know nothing of. Of course, it's none +of my business." + +There was a new and startling note of assurance in his voice. +Certainly he had developed during the past few months. What I had +done, Heaven only knows. Misfortune, which is supposed to be formative +of character, seemed to have turned mine into pie. How can I otherwise +account for my not checking the lunatic impulse that prompted my next +words. + +"Well, something has happened," said I, "and if we're to be friends, +you had better know it. Two days ago, for the first time, I told +Madame Brandt that I loved her. This very afternoon I went to get her +answer to my question--would she marry me?--and I found that she had +disappeared without leaving any address behind her. So whenever you +hear her name mentioned you can just tell everybody that she's the one +woman in the whole wide world I want to marry." + +"Poor old Simon," said Dale. "Poor old chap." + +"That's exactly how things stand." + +"Lord, who would have thought it?" + +"How I've borne with you talking about her all this evening the devil +only knows," I cried. "You've driven me half crazy." + +"You should have told me to shut up." + +"I did." + +"Poor old Simon. I'm so sorry--but I had no idea you had fallen in +love with her." + +"Fallen in love!" said I, losing my head. "She's the only woman on +God's earth I've ever cared for. I want her as I've wanted nothing in +the universe before." + +"And you've come to care for her as much as that?" he said +sympathetically. "Poor old Simon." + +"Why the devil shouldn't I?" I shouted, nettled by his "poor old +Simons." + +"Lola Brandt is hardly of your class," said Dale. + +I broke out furiously. "Damn class! I've had enough of it. I'm going +to take my life into my own hands and do what I like with it. I'm +going to choose my mate without any reference to society. I've cut +myself adrift from society. It can go hang. Lola Brandt is a woman +worth any man's loving. She is a woman in a million. You know nothing +whatever about her." + +The last words were scarcely out of my mouth when an echo from the +distance came and, as it were, banged at my ears. Dale himself had +shrieked them at me in exactly the same tone with reference to the +same woman. I stopped short and looked at him for a moment rather +stupidly. Then the imp of humour, who for some time had deserted me, +flew to my side and tickled my brain. I broke into a chuckle, somewhat +hysterical I must admit, and then, throwing myself into an arm-chair, +gave way to uncontrollable laughter. + +The scare of the unexpected rose in Dale's eyes. + +"Why, what on earth is the matter?" + +"Can't you see?" I cried, as far as the paroxysms of my mirth would +let me. "Can't you see how exquisitely ludicrous the whole thing has +been from beginning to end? Don't you realise that you and I are +playing the same scene as we played months ago in my library, with the +only difference that we have changed roles? I'm the raving, infatuated +youth, and you're the grave and reverend mentor. Don't you see? Don't +you see?" + +"I can't see anything to laugh at," said Dale sturdily. + +And he couldn't. There are thousands of bright, flame-like human +beings constituted like that. Life spreads out before them one of its +most side-splitting, topsy-turvy farces and they see in it nothing to +laugh at. + +To Dale the affair had been as serious and lacking in the fantastic as +the measles. He had got over the disease and now was exceedingly sorry +to perceive that I had caught it in my turn. + +"It isn't funny a bit," he continued. "It's quite natural. I see it +all now. You cut me out from the very first. You didn't mean to--you +never thought of it. But what chance had I against you? I was a young +ass and you were a brilliant man of the world. I bear you no grudge. +You played the game in that way. Then things happened--and at last +you've fallen in love with her--and now just at the critical moment +she has gone off into space. It must be devilish painful for you, if +you ask me." + +"Oh, Dale," said I, shaking my head, "the only fitting end to the +farce would be if you wandered over Europe to find and bring her back +to me." + +"I don't know about that," said he, "because I'm engaged, and that, as +I said, gives me occupation; but if I can do anything practicable, my +dear old Simon, you've only got to send for me." + +He pulled out his watch. + +"My hat!" he exclaimed. "It's past two o'clock." + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +I am a personage apart from humanity. I vary from the kindly ways of +man. A curse is on me. + +Surely no man has fought harder than I have done to convince himself +of the deadly seriousness of existence; and surely before the feet of +no man has Destiny cast such stumbling-blocks to faith. I might be an +ancient dweller in the Thebaid struggling towards dreams of celestial +habitations, and confronted only by grotesque visions of hell. No +matter what I do, I'm baffled. I look upon sorrow and say, "Lo, this +is tragedy!" and hey, presto! a trick of lightning turns it into +farce. I cry aloud, in perfervid zeal, "Life is real, life is earnest, +and the apotheosis of the fantastic is not its goal," and immediately +a grinning irony comes to give the lie to my credo. + +Or is it that, by inscrutable decree of the Almighty Powers, I am +undergoing punishment for an old unregenerate point of view, being +doomed to wear my detested motley for all eternity, to stretch out my +hand for ever to grasp realities and find I can do nought but beat the +air with my bladder; to listen with strained ear perpetually expectant +of the music of the spheres, and catch nothing but the mocking jingle +of the bells on my fool's cap? + +I don't know. I give it up. + +Such were my thoughts on the morning after my interview with Dale, +when I had read a long, long letter from Lola, which she had +despatched from Paris. + +The letter lies before me now, many pages in a curious, half-formed +foreign hand. Many would think it an ill-written letter--for there are +faults of spelling and faults of grammar--but even now, as I look on +those faults, the tears come into my eyes. Oh, how exquisitely, +pathetically, monumentally, sublimely foolish! She had little or +nothing to do with it, poor dear; it was only the Arch-Jester again, +leading her blindly away, so as once more to leave me high and dry on +the Hill of Derision. + +". . . My dear, you must forgive me! My heart is breaking, but I know +I'm doing right. There is nothing for it but to go out of your life +for ever. It terrifies me to think of it, but it's the only way. I +know you think you love me, dear; but you can't, you can't /really/ +love a woman so far beneath you, and I would sooner never see you +again than marry you and wake up one day and find that you hated and +scorned me. . . ." + +Can you wonder that I shook my fist at Heaven and danced with rage? + + + ". . . Miss Eleanor Faversham called on me just a few minutes after + you left me that afternoon. We had a long, long talk. Simon, dear, + you must marry her. You loved her once, for you were engaged, and + only broke it off because you thought you were going to die; and + she loves you, Simon, and she is a lady with all the refinement + and education that I could never have. She is of your class, dear, + and understands you, and can help you on, whereas I could only + drag you down. I am not fit to black her boots. . . ." + + +And so forth, and so forth, in the most heartrending strain of +insensate self-sacrifice and heroic self-abasement. The vainest and +most heartless dog of a man stands abashed and helpless before such +things in a woman. + +She had not seen or written to me because she would not have her +resolution weakened. After the great wrench, succeeding things were +easier. She had taken Anastasius's cats and proposed to work them in +the music-halls abroad and send the proceeds to be administered for +the little man's comfort at the Maison de Sante. As both her name and +the Papadopoulos troupe of cats were well known in the "variety" +world, it would be a simple matter to obtain engagements. She had +already opened negotiations for a short season somewhere abroad. I was +not to be anxious about her. She would have plenty of occupation. + + + ". . . I am not sending you any address, for I don't want you to + know where I am, dear. I shan't write to you again unless I + scribble things and tear them up without posting. This is final. + When a woman makes such a break she must do it once and for all. + Oh, Simon, when you kissed me two days ago you thought you loved + me; but I know what the senses are and how they deceive people, + and I had only just caught your senses on that spring afternoon, + and I made you do it, for I had been aching, aching for months for + a word of love from you, and when it came I was ashamed. But I + should have been weak and shut my eyes to everything if Miss + Faversham had not come to me like God's good angel. . . ." + + +At the fourth reading of the letter I stopped short at these words. +God's good angel, indeed! Could anything have been more calculated to +put a man into a frenzy? I seized my hat and stick and went in search +of the nearest public telephone office. In less than ten minutes I had +arranged an immediate interview with Eleanor Faversham at my sister +Agatha's, and in less than half an hour I was pacing up and down +Agatha's sitting-room waiting for her. God's good angel! The sound of +the words made me choke with wrath. There are times when angelic +interference in human destinies is entirely unwarrantable. I stamped +and I fumed, and I composed a speech in which I told Eleanor exactly +what I thought of angels. + +As I had to wait a considerable time, however, before Eleanor +appeared, the raging violence of my wrath abated, and when she did +enter the room smiling and fresh, with the spring in her clear eyes +and a flush on her cheek, I just said: "How d'ye do, Eleanor?" in the +most commonplace way, and offered her a chair. + +"I've come, you see. You were rather peremptory, so I thought it must +be a matter of great importance." + +"It is," said I. "You went to see Madame Brandt." + +"I did," she replied, looking at me steadily, "and I have tried to +write to you, but it is more difficult than I thought." + +"Well," said I, "it's no use writing now, for you've managed to drive +her out of the country." + +She half rose in her chair and regarded me with wide-blue eyes. + +"I've driven her out of the country?" + +"Yes; with her maid and her belongings and Anastasius Papadopoulos's +troupe of performing cats, and Anastasius Papadopoulos's late pupil +and assistant Quast. She has given up her comfortable home in London +and now proposes to be a wanderer among the music-halls of Europe." + +"But that's not my fault! Indeed, it isn't." + +"She says in a letter I received this morning bearing no address, that +if you hadn't come to her like God's good angel, she would have +remained in London." + +Eleanor looked bewildered. "I thought I had made it perfectly clear to +her." + +"Made what clear?" + +She blushed a furious red. "Can't you guess? You must be as stupid as +she is. And, of course, you're wildly angry with me. Aren't you?" + +"I certainly wish you hadn't gone to see her." + +"Was it merely to tell me this that you ordered me to come here?" she +asked, with a touch of anger in her voice, for however much like God's +good angels young women may be, they generally have a spirit of their +own. + +I felt I had been wanting in tact; also that I had put myself--through +an impetuosity foreign to what I had thought to be my character--in a +foolish position. If I replied affirmatively to her question, she +would have served me perfectly right by tossing her head in the air +and marching indignantly out of the room. I temporised. + +"In order to understand the extraordinary consequences of your +interview, I should like to have some idea of what took place. I know, +my dear Eleanor," I continued as gently as I could, "I know that you +went to see her out of the very great kindness of your heart--" + +"No, I didn't." + +I made a little gesture in lieu of reply. There was a span of silence. +Eleanor played with the silky ears of Agatha's little Yorkshire +terrier which had somehow strayed into the room and taken possession +of her lap. + +"Don't you see, Simon?" she said at last, half tearfully, without +taking her eyes off the dog, "don't you see that by accusing me in +this way you make it almost impossible for me to speak? And I was +going to be so loyal to you." + +A tear fell down her cheek on to the dog's back, and convicted me of +unmitigated brutality. + +"What else could you be but loyal?" I murmured. "Your attitude all +through has shone it." + +She flashed her hand angrily over her eyes, and looked at me. "And I +wanted to be loyal to the end. If you had waited and she had waited, +you would have seen. As soon as I could have conveyed it to you +decently, I should have shown you---- Ah!" She broke off, put the +Yorkshire terrier on the sofa beside her, and rose with an impatient +gesture. "You want to know why I called on Lola Brandt? I felt I had +to know for myself what kind of woman she was. She was the woman +between us--you and me. You don't suppose I ceased to care for you +just because what we thought was a fatal illness broke off our +engagement! I did care for you. I cared for you--in a way; I say 'in a +way'--I'll tell you why later on. When we met here the last time do +you think I was not moved? I knew your altered position would not +allow you to suggest a renewal of the engagement so I offered you the +opportunity. Do you remember? But I could not tell whether you still +cared for me or whether you cared for the other woman. So I had to go +and see her. I couldn't bear to think that you might feel in honour +bound to take me at my word and be caring all the time for some one +else. I went to see her, and then I realised that I didn't count. +Don't ask why. Women know these things. And I found that she loved you +with a warmth and richness I'm incapable of. I felt I had stepped into +something big and splendid, as if I had been a caterpillar walking +into the heart of a red rose. I felt prim and small and petty. Until +then I had never known what love meant, and I didn't feel it; I +couldn't feel it. I couldn't give you a millionth part of what that +woman does. And I knew that having lived in that atmosphere, you +couldn't possibly be content with me. If you had waited, I should have +found some means of telling you so. That's what I meant by saying I +was loyal to you. And I thought I had made it clear to her. It seems I +didn't. It isn't my fault." + +"My dear," said I, when she had come to the end of this astonishing +avowal, and stood looking at me somewhat defiantly and twisting her +fingers nervously in front of her, "I don't know what in the world to +say to you." + +"You can tell me, at least, that my instinct was right." + +"Which one? A woman has so many." + +"That you love Lola Brandt." + +I lifted my arms in a helpless gesture and let them drop to my sides. + +"One is not one's own master in these things." + +"Then you do?" + +"Yes," said I in a low voice. + +Eleanor drew a long breath, turned and sat down again on the sofa. + +"And she knows it?" + +"I have told her so." + +"Then why in the world has she run away?" + +"Because you two wonderful and divinely foolish people have been too +big for each other. While you were impressed by one quality in her she +was equally impressed by another in you. She departed, burning her +ships, so as to go entirely out of my life for the simple reason, as +she herself expresses it, that she was not fit to black your boots. +So," said I, taking her left hand in mine and patting it gently, +"between you two dear, divine angel fools, I fall to the ground." + +A while later, just before we parted, she said in her frank way: + +"I know many people would say I've behaved with shocking impropriety-- +immodestly and all that. You don't, do you? I believe half the +unhappiness in life comes from people being afraid to go straight at +things. Perhaps I've gone too straight this time--but you'll forgive +me?" + +I smiled and squeezed her hand. "My dear," said I, "Lola Brandt was +right. You are God's good angel." + +I went away in a chastened mood, no longer wrathful, for what could +woman do more for mortal man than what Eleanor Faversham had +attempted? She had gone to see whether she should stand against her +rival, and with a superb generosity, unprecedented in her sex, she had +withdrawn. The magnanimity of it overwhelmed me. I walked along the +street exalting her to viewless pinnacles of high-heartedness. And +then, suddenly, the Devil whispered in my ear that execrated word +"eumoiriety." It poisoned the rest of the day. It confirmed my +conviction of the ironical designs of Destiny. Destiny, not content +with making me a victim of the accursed principle in my own person, +had used these two dear women as its instruments in dealing me fresh +humiliation. Where would it end? Where could I turn to escape such an +enemy? If I had been alone in green fields instead of Sloane Square, I +should have clapped my hands to my head and prayed God not to drive me +crazy. I should have cried wild vows to the winds and shaken my fist +at the sky and rolled upon the grass and made a genteel idiot of +myself. Nature would have understood. Men do these things in time of +stress, and I was in great stress. I loved a woman for the first time +in my life--and I was a man nearly forty. I wanted her with every +quivering nerve in me. And she was gone. Lost in the vast expanse of +Europe with a parcel of performing cats. Gone out of my life loving me +as I loved her, all on account of this Hell-invented principle. Ye +gods! If the fierce, pure, deep, abiding love of a man for a woman is +not a reality, what in this world of shadows is anything but vapour? I +grasped it tight, hugged it to my bosom--and now she was gone, and in +my ears rang the derisive laughter of the enemy. + +Where would it end? What would happen next? Nothing was too +outrageously, maniacally impossible. I walked up Sloane Street, a +street for which impeccable respectability, security of life and +person, comfortable, modern, twentieth-century, prosperous smugness +has no superior in all the smug cities of the earth, and I was +prepared to encounter with a smile of recognition anything that the +whirling brains of Bedlam had ever conceived. Why should not this +little lady tripping along with gold chain-bag and anxious, shopping +knit of the brow, throw her arms round my neck and salute me as her +long-lost brother? Why should not the patient horses in that omnibus +suddenly turn into griffins and begin to snort fire from their +nostrils? Why should not that policeman, who, on his beat, was +approaching me with the heavy, measured tread, suddenly arrest me for +complicity in the Pazzi Conspiracy or the Rye House Plot? Why should +not the whole of the decorous street suddenly change into the +inconsequence of an Empire ballet? Why should not the heavens fall +down and universal chaos envelop all? + +The only possible reason I can think of now is that the Almighty +Powers did not consider it worth while to go to quite so much trouble +on my account. + +This, however, gives you some idea of my state of mind. But though it +lasted for a considerable time, I would not have you believe that I +fostered it unduly. Indeed, I repudiated it with some disgust. I took +it out, examined it, and finding it preposterous, set to work to +modify it into harmony with the circumstances of my every-day life. +Even the most sorely tried of men cannot walk abroad shedding his +exasperation around like pestilence. If he does, he is put into a +lunatic asylum. + +If a man cannot immediately assuage the hunger of his heart, he must +meet starvation with a smiling face. In the meantime, he has to eat so +as to satisfy the hunger of his body, to clothe himself with a certain +discrimination, to attend to polite commerce with his fellow man and +to put to some fair use the hours of his day. I did not doubt but that +by means of intelligent inquiry which I determined to pursue in every +possible direction I should sooner or later obtain news of Lola. A +lady with a troupe of performing cats could not for long remain in +obscurity. True, I might have gone in gallant quest of her; but I had +had enough of such fool adventures. I bided my time, consulted with +Dale, who took up the work of a private detective agency with his +usual zeal, writing letters to every crony who languished in the exile +of foreign embassies, and corresponding (unknown to Lady Kynnersley) +with the agencies of the International Aid Society, did what I could +on my own account, and turned my attention seriously to the +regeneration of the Judds. + +As the affairs of one drunken tailor's family could not afford me +complete occupation for my leisure hours, I began to find myself +insensibly drawn by Campion's unreflecting enthusiasm into all kinds +of small duties connected with Barbara's Building. Before I could +realise that I had consented, I discovered myself in charge of an +evening class of villainous-looking and uncleanly youths who assembled +in one of the lecture-rooms to listen to my recollections of the +history of England. I was to continue the course begun by a young +Oxford man, who, for some reason or other, had migrated from Barbara's +Building to Toynbee Hall. + +"I've never done any schoolmastering in my life. Suppose," said I, +with vivid recollections of my school days, "suppose they rag me?" + +"They won't," said Campion, who had come to introduce me to the class. + +And they did not. I found these five and twenty youthful members of +the proletariat the most attentive, respectable, and intelligent +audience that ever listened to a lecture. Gradually I came to perceive +that they were not as villainous-looking and uncleanly as at first +sight I had imagined. A great many of them took notes. When I came to +the end of my dissertation on Henry VIII, I went among them, as I +discovered the custom to be, and chatted, answering questions, +explaining difficulties, and advising as to a course of reading. The +atmosphere of trust and friendliness compensated for the lack of +material sweetness. Here were young men pathetically eager to learn, +grateful for every crumb of information that came from my lips. They +reminded me of nothing more than the ragged class of scholars around a +teacher in a mediaeval university. Some had vague dreams of eventually +presenting themselves for examinations, the Science and Art +Department, the College of Preceptors, the Matriculation of the +University of London. Others longed for education for its own sake, or +rather as a means of raising themselves in the social scale. Others, +bitten by the crude Socialism of their class, had been persuaded to +learn something of past movements of mankind so as to obtain some +basis for their opinions. All were in deadly earnest. The magnetic +attraction between teacher and taught established itself. After one or +two lectures, I looked forward to the next with excited interest. + +Other things Campion off-handedly put into my charge. I went on tours +of inspection round the houses of his competing housewives. I acted as +his deputy at the police court when ladies and gentlemen with a good +record at Barbara's got into trouble with the constabulary. I +investigated cases for the charity of the institution. In quite a +short time I realised with a gasp that I had become part of the +machinery of Barbara's Building, and was remorselessly and helplessly +whirled hither and thither with the rest of the force of the driving +wheel which was Rex Campion. + +The amazing, the astounding, the utterly incredible thing about the +whole matter was that I not only liked it, but plunged into it heart +and soul as I had never plunged into work before. I discovered +sympathies that had hitherto lain undreamed of within me. In my +electioneering days I had, it is true, foregathered with the sons of +toil. I had shaken the horny hands of men and the soap-suddy hands of +women. I had flattered them and cajoled them and shown myself mighty +affable, as a sensible and aspiring Parliamentary candidate should do; +but the way to their hearts I had never found, I had never dreamed of +seeking. And now it seemed as if the great gift had been bestowed on +me--and I examined it with a new and almost tremulous delight. + +Also, for the first time in all my life, I had taken pain to be the +companion of my soul. All my efforts to find Lola were fruitless. I +became acquainted with the heartache, the longing for the +unattainable, the agony of spirit. The only anodyne was a +forgetfulness of self, the only compensation a glimmer of a hope and +the shadow of a smile in the grey and leaden lives around me. + + + +On Whit Monday evening I was walking along the Thames Embankment on my +way home from Waterloo Station, wet through, tired out, disappointed, +and looking forward to the dry, soft raiment, the warm, cosy room, the +excellent dinner that awaited me in my flat. I--with several others-- +had been helping Campion with his annual outing of factory girls and +young hooligans. The weather, which had been perfect on Saturday, +Sunday, and when we had started, a gay and astonishing army, at seven +o'clock, had broken before ten. It had rained, dully miserable, +insistently all day long. The happy day in the New Forest had been a +damp and dismal fiasco. I was returning home, thinking I might walk +off an incipient chill, as depressed as no one but the baffled +philanthropist can be, when I perceived a tattered and dejected man +sitting on a bench, a clothes-basket between his feet, his elbows on +his knees, his head in his hands, and sobbing as if his heart would +break. As the spectacle of a grown-up man crying bitterly in a public +thoroughfare was somewhat remarkable, I paused, and then in order to +see whether his distress was genuine, and also not to arouse his +suspicions, I threw myself in an exhausted manner on the bench beside +him. He continued to sob. At last I said, raising my voice: + +"You seem to be pretty miserable. What's wrong?" + +He turned bleared, yet honest-looking eyes upon me. + +"The whole blasted show!" said he. "There's nothing right in it, +s'welp me Gawd." + +I gave a modified assent to the proposition and drew my coat-collar +over my eyes. "Being wet through doesn't make it any better," said I. + +"Who would ha' thought it would come down as it has to-day? Tell me +that. It's enough to make a man cut his throat!" + +I was somewhat surprised. "You're not in such a great distress just +because it has been a rainy day!" + +"Ain't I just!" he exclaimed. "It's been and gone and ruined me, this +day has. Look 'ere, guv'nor, I'll tell you all about it. I've been out +of work, see? I was in 'orspital for three months and I couldn't get +nothing regular to do when I come out. I'm a packer by trade. I did +odd jobs, see, and the wife she earned a little, too, and we managed +to keep things going and to scrape together five shillings, that's +three months' savings, against Whitsun Bank Holiday. And as the +weather was so fine, I laid it all out in paper windmills to sell to +the kids on 'Amstead 'Eath. And I started out this morning with the +basket full of them all so fine and pretty, and no sooner do I get on +the 'Eath than the rain comes down and wipes out the whole blooming +lot, before I could sell one. Look 'ere!" + +He drew a bedraggled sheet of newspaper from the clothes-basket and +displayed a piteous sodden welter of sticks and gaudy pulp. At the +sight of it he broke down again and sobbed like a child. + +"And there's not a bite in the 'ouse, nor not likely to be for days; +and I daren't go home and face the missus and the kids--and I wish I +was dead." + +I had already seen many pitiful tragedies during my brief experience +with Campion; but the peculiar pitifulness of this one wrung my heart. +It taught me as nothing had done before how desperately humble are the +aspirations of the poor. I thought of the cosy comfort that awaited me +in my own home; the despair that awaited him in his. + +I put my hand in my pocket. + +"You seem to be a good chap," said I. + +He shrugged his shoulders. The consciousness of applauded virtue +offered no consolation. I drew out a couple of half-crowns and threw +them into the basket. + +"For the missus and the kids," said I. + +He picked them out of the welter, and holding them in his hand, looked +at me stupidly. + +"Can you afford it, guv'nor?" + +At first I thought this remark was some kind of ill-conditioned +sarcasm; but suddenly I realised that dripping wet and covered with +mud from head to foot, with a shapeless, old, green, Homburg hat +drooping forlornly about my ears, I did not fulfil his conception of +the benevolent millionaire. I laughed, and rose from the bench. + +"Yes. Quite well. Better luck next time." + +I nodded a good-bye, and walked away. After a minute, he came running +after me. + +"'Ere," said he, "I ain't thanked yer. Gawd knows how I'm going to do +it. I can't! But, 'ere--would you mind if I chucked a lot of the stuff +into the river and told the missus I had sold it, and just got back my +money? She's proud, she is, and has never accepted a penny in charity +in her life. It's only because it would be better for 'er." + +He looked at me with such earnest appeal that I saw that the saving of +his wife's pride was a serious matter. + +"Of course," said I, "and here's a few ha'pence to add to it, so as to +give colour to the story." + +He saw that I understood. "Thank you kindly, sir," said he. + +"Tell me," said I, "do you love your wife?" + +He gaped at me for a moment; obviously the question had never been put +to him either by himself or anybody else. Then, seeing that my +interest was genuine, he spat and scratched his head. + +"We've been together twenty years," he said, in a low voice, emotion +struggling with self-consciousness, "and I've 'ad nothing agin her all +that time. She's a bloomin' wonder, I tell you straight." + +I held out my hand. "At any rate, you've got what I haven't," said I. +"A woman who loves you to welcome you home." + +And I went away, longing, longing for Lola's arms and the deep love in +her voice. + +Now that I come to view my actions in some sort of perspective, it +seems to me that it was the underlying poignancy of this trumpery +incident--a poignancy which, nevertheless, bit deep into my soul, that +finally determined the current of my life. + +A short while afterwards, Campion, who for some time past had found +the organisation of Barbara's Building had far outgrown his individual +power of control, came to me with a proposal that I should undertake +the management of the institution under his general directorship. As +he knew of my financial affairs and of my praiseworthy but futile +efforts to live on two hundred a year, he offered me another two +hundred by way of salary and quarters in the Building. I accepted, +moved the salvage of my belongings from Victoria Street to Lambeth, +and settled down to the work for which a mirth-loving Providence had +destined me from my cradle. + +When I told Agatha, she nearly fainted. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +No sooner had I moved into Barbara's Building and was preparing to +begin my salaried duties than I received news which sent me off post +haste to Berlin. And just as it was not I but Anastasius Papadopoulos +who discovered Captain Vauvenarde, so, in this case, it was Dale who +discovered Lola. + +He burst in upon me one day, flourishing a large visiting-card, which +he flung down on the table before my eyes. + +"Do you recognise that?" + +It was the familiar professional card of the unhappy Anastasius. + +"Yes." + +"Do you see the last line?" + +I read "London Agents: Messrs. Conto and Blag, 172 Maiden Lane, W.C." +I looked up. "Well?" I asked. + +"It has done the trick," said he triumphantly. "What fools we were not +to have thought of it before. I was rooting out a drawer of papers and +came across the card. You remember he handed us one all round the +first day we met him. I put it away--I'm rather a methodical devil +with papers, as you know. When I found it, I danced a hornpipe all +round the room and went straight off to Conto and Blag. I made certain +she would work through them, as they were accustomed to shop the cats, +and I found I was right. They knew all about her. Wouldn't give her +address, but told me that she was appearing this week at the Winter +Garten at Berlin. Why that pudding-headed quagga, Bevan, at the +Embassy, hasn't kept his eyes open for me, as he promised," he went on +a while later, "I don't know! I can understand Eugen Pattenhausen, the +owl-eyed coot who runs the International Aid Society, not doing a +hand's turn to aid anybody--but Bevan! For Heaven's sake, while you're +there call at the Embassy and kick him." + +"You forget, my dear boy," said I, with a laugh, for his news had made +me light-hearted, "you forget that I have entered upon a life of self- +denial, and one of the luxuries I must deny myself is that of kicking +attaches." + +"I've a good mind to go with you and do it myself. But it'll keep. Do +you know, it's rather quaint, isn't it?" he said, after a pause, as if +struck by a luminous idea--"It's rather quaint that it should be I who +am playing the little tin god on wheels for you two, and saying 'Bless +you, my children.'" + +"I thought the humour of the situation couldn't fail to strike you at +last." + +"Yes," said he, knitting his brows into an air of dark reflection "it +is funny. Devilish funny!" + +I dismissed him with grateful words, and in a flutter of excitement +went in search of Campion, whom I was lucky to find in the building. + +"I'm sorry to ask for leave of absence," said I, "before I've actually +taken up my appointment; but I must do so. I am summoned at once to +Berlin on important business. + +Campion gave willing consent. "How long will you be away?" + +"That depends," said I, with a smile which I meant to be enigmatic, +but assuredly must have been fatuous, "upon my powers of persuasion." + +I had bright thoughts of going to Berlin and back in a meteoric flash, +bringing Lola with me on my return journey, to marry her out of hand +as soon as we reached London. Cats and Winter Gartens concerned me but +little, and of trifles like contracts I took no account. + +"If you're there any time," said Campion, tugging thoughtfully at his +black beard, "you might look into what the Germans are doing with +regard to Female Rescue Work. You might pick up a practical tip or two +for use down here." + +What a thing it is to be a man of one idea! I gave him an evasive +answer and rushed away to make the necessary preparations for my +journey. I was absurdly, boyishly happy. No doubt as to my success +crossed my mind. It was to be my final and triumphant adventure. +Unless the High Powers stove a hole in the steamer or sent another +railway train to collide with mine, the non-attainment of my object +seemed impossible. I had but to go, to be seen, to conquer. + +I arrived safely in Berlin at half-past seven in the evening, and +drove to a modest hotel in the Kaiserstrasse, where I had engaged a +room. My first inquiry was for a letter from Lola. To my +disappointment nothing awaited me. I had telegraphed to her at the +Winter Garten the day before, and I had written as well. A horrible +surmise began to dance before me. Suppose Messrs. Conto and Blag had +given Dale erroneous information! I grew sick and faint at the +thought. What laughter there would be in Olympus over my fool journey! +In great agitation I clamoured for a programme of the Winter Garten +entertainment. The hotel clerk put it into my trembling hands. There +was no mention of Madame Lola Brandt, but to my unspeakable comfort I +saw the announcement: + + + "Professorin Anastasius Papadopoulos und ihre wunderbaren Katzen." + + +Lola was working the cats under the little man's name. That was why +she had baffled the inquiries instituted by Dale and myself and had +not received my telegram. I scribbled a hasty note in which I told her +of my arrival, my love, and my impatience; that I proposed to witness +the performance that evening, and to meet her immediately afterwards +at the stage-door. This, addressed to the Professorin Anastasius +Papadopoulos, I despatched by special messenger to the Winter Garten. +After a hasty toilet and a more hurried meal, I went out, and, too +impatient to walk, I hailed a droschky, and drove through the wide, +cheery streets of Berlin. It was a balmy June evening. The pavements +were thronged. Through the vast open fronts of the cafes one saw +agglutinated masses of people just cleft here and there by white- +jacketed waiters darting to and fro with high-poised trays of beer and +coffee. Save these and the folks in theatres all Berlin was in the +streets, taking the air. A sense of gaiety pervaded the place, +organised and recognised, as though it were as much part of a +Berliner's duty to himself, the Fatherland, and the Almighty to be gay +when the labours of the day are over as to be serious during business +hours. He goes through it with a grave face and enjoys himself +prodigiously. Your Latin when he fills the street with jest and +laughter obeys the ebullience of his temperament; your Teuton always +seems to be conscientiously obeying a book of regulations. + +I soon arrived at the Winter Garten and secured a stall near the +stage. The vast building was packed with a smoking and perspiring +multitude. In shape it was like a long tunnel or a long, narrow +railway station, an impression intensified by a monotonous barrel +roof. This was, however, painted blue and decorated with myriads of +golden stars. Along one side ran a gallery where those who liked to +watch the performance and eat a six-course dinner at the same time +could do so in elaborate comfort. In the centre of the opposite side +was the stage, and below it, grouped in a semi-circle, the orchestra. +Beneath the starry roof hung long wisps of smoke clouds. + +The performance had only just begun and Lola's turn was seventh on the +list. I reflected that greater deliberation in my movements would have +suited the maturity of my years, besides enabling me to eat a more +digestible dinner. I had come with the unreasoning impatience of a +boy, fully conscious that I was too early, yet desperately anxious not +to be too late. I laughed at myself indulgently and patted the boy in +me on the head. Meanwhile, I gave myself up with mild interest to the +entertainment provided. It was the same as that at any music-hall, +winter garden, or variety theatre the world over. The same brawny +gentlemen in tights made human pyramids out of themselves and played +football with the little boys and minced with their aggravating steps +down to the footlights; the same red-nosed clown tried to emulate his +dashing companion on the horizontal bars, pulling himself up, to the +eternal delight of the audience, by the seat of his baggy breeches, +and hanging his hat on the smooth steel upright; the same massive lady +with the deep chest sang sentimental ballads; the same China-man +produced warrens of rabbits and flocks of pigeons from impossible +receptacles; the same half-dozen scantily clad damsels sang the same +inane chorus in the same flat baby voices and danced the same old +dance. Mankind in the bulk is very young; it is very easily amused +and, like a child, clamours for the oft-repeated tale. + +The curtain went down on the last turn before Lola's. I felt a curious +suspense, and half wished that I had not come to see the performance. +I shrank from finding her a million miles away from me, a new, remote +creature, impersonal as those who had already appeared on the stage. +Mingled with this was a fear lest she might not please this vast +audience. Failure, I felt, would be as humiliating to me as to her. +Agatha, I remembered, confessed to the same feeling with regard to +myself when I made my first speech in the House of Commons. But then I +had an incontrovertible array of facts and arguments, drawn up by an +infallible secretary and welded into cunning verbiage by myself, which +I learned off by heart. And the House, as I knew it would, had been +half asleep. I couldn't fail. But Lola had to please three thousand +wide-awake Berlin citizens, who had paid their money for +entertainment, with no other equipment than her own personality and +the tricks of a set of wretched irresponsible cats. + +The orchestra struck up the act music. The curtains parted, and +revealed the brightly polished miniature gymnasium I had seen at +Anastasius's cattery; the row of pussies at the back, each on a velvet +stand, some white, some tabby, some long-furred, some short-furred, +all sitting with their forepaws doubled demurely under their chests, +wagging their tails comically, and blinking with feline indifference +at the footlights; a cage in a corner in which I descried the +ferocious wild tomcat; and, busily putting the last touches to the guy +ropes, the pupil and assistant Quast, neatly attired in a close +fitting bottle-green uniform with brass buttons. Almost immediately +Lola appeared, in a shimmering gold evening gown, and with a necklet +of barbaric gold round her neck. I had never seen her so +magnificently, so commandingly beautiful. I was conscious of a ripple +of admiration running through the huge assembly--and it was a queer +sensation, half pride, half angry jealousy. My immediate neighbors +were emphatic in their praise. Applause greeted her. She smiled +acknowledgments and, flicking the little toy whip which she carried in +her hand, she began the act. First of all, the cats jumped from their +stands, right-turned like a military line, and walked in procession +round the stage. At a halt and a signal each pussy put its front paws +on its front neighbour and the march began again. Then Lola did +something with voice and whip, and each cat dropped on its paws, and +as if by magic there appeared a space between every animal. + +At a further word the last cat jumped over the one in front and over +the one in front of that and so on until, having cleared the first +cat, it leaped on to its stand where it began to lick itself placidly. +Meanwhile, the penultimate cat had begun the same evolution, and then +the ante-penultimate cat, until all the cats had cleared the front one +and had taken their positions on their stands. The last cat, left +alone, looked round, yawned in the face of the audience, and, turning +tail, regained its stand with the air of unutterable boredom. The +audience, delighted, applauded vehemently. I raised my hands as I +clapped them, trying vainly and foolishly to catch Lola's eye. + +At a tap of her whip a white angora and a sleek tabby jumped from the +stands and took up their positions one at each end of a miniature +tight-rope. Lola stuck a tiny Japanese umbrella in the collar of each +and sent them forth on their perilous journey. When they met in the +middle, they spat and caterwauled and argued spitefully. The audience +shrieked. Then by a miracle the cats cleared each other and pursued +their sedate and cautious ways to their respective ends of the rope. +The next act was a team of a dozen rats drawing a tiled chariot driven +by a stolid coal-black cat with green, expressionless eyes, down an +aisle formed by the other cats who sat in solemn contemplation on +their tails. There was no doubt of Lola's success. The tricks were as +marvellous in themselves as their execution was flawless. During the +applause I noticed her eagerly scanning the sea of faces. Her eyes +seemed to be turned in my direction. I waved my handkerchief, and +instinct told me that at last she recognised the point of pink and the +flutter of white as me. + +Then the stage was cleared of the gentle cats and the wire cage +containing Hephaestus was pushed forward by Quast. He showed off the +ferocious beast's quality by making it dash itself against the wires, +arch its huge back, and shoot out venomous claws. Lola commanded him +by sign to open the cage. He approached in simulated terror, +Hephaestus uttering blood-curdling howls, and every time he touched +the handle of the door Hephaestus sprang at him like a tiger with the +tomcat's hateful hiss. At last, amid the laughter of the audience (for +this was prearranged business), Quast suddenly refused to obey his +mistress any more, and went and sat on the floor in the corner of the +stage. Then Lola, with a glance of contempt at him for his poltroonery +and a glance of confidence at the audience, opened the cage door and +dragged the gigantic and malevolent brute out by the scruff of its +neck and held it up like a rabbit, as she had done in Anastasius's +cattery. + +Suddenly her iron grip seemed to relax; she made one or two +ineffectual efforts to retain it and the brute dropped to the ground. +She looked at it for a second disconcerted as if she had lost her +nerve, and then, in a horrible flash, the beast sprang at her face. +She uttered piercing screams. The blood spurted from the ghastly +claws. Quick as lightning Quast leapt forward and dragged it off. Lola +clapped both hands to her eyes, and reeled and tottered to the wings, +where I saw a man's two arms receive her. The last thing I saw was +Quast kneeling on the beast on the floor mastering him by some +professional clutch. Then there rang out a sharp whistle and the +curtain went down with a run. + +I rose, sick with horror, barely conscious of the gasping excitement +that prevailed around me, and blindly groped my path through the +crowded rows of folk towards the door. I had only proceeded half-way +when a sudden silence made me turn, and I saw a man addressing the +audience from the stage. Apparently it was the manager. He regretted +to have to inform the audience that Madame Papadopoulos would not be +able to conclude her most interesting performance that evening as she +had unfortunately received injuries of a very grave nature. Then he +signalled to the orchestra, who crashed into a loud and vulgar march +with clanging brass and thundering drum. It sounded so cynically and +hideously inhuman that I trampled recklessly over people in my mad +rush to the exit. + +I found the stage-door, where a knot of the performers were assembled, +talking of the horrible accident. I pushed my way shiveringly through +them, and tried to rush into the building, but was checked by a burly +porter. I explained incoherently in my rusty German. I came for news +of Madame Papadopoulos. I was her /Verlobter/ I declared, with a gush +of inspiration. Whether he believed that I was her affianced I know +not, but he bade me wait, and disappeared with my card. I became at +once the object of the curiosity of the loungers. I heard them +whispering together as they pointed me out and pitying me. The cat had +torn her face away said one woman. I put my hands over my ears so as +not to hear. Presently the porter returned with a stout person in +authority, who drew me into the stage-doorkeeper's box. + +"You are a friend of Frau Papadopoulos?" + +"Friend!" I cried. "She is to be my wife. I am in a state of horror +and despair. Tell me what has happened." + +Seeing my condition, he laid aside his official manner and became +human. It was a dreadful accident, said he. The beast had apparently +got its claws in near her eyes; but what were her exact injuries he +could not tell, as her face was all over blood and she had fainted +with the pain. The doctor was with her. He had telephoned for an +ambulance. I was to be quite certain that she would receive every +possible attention. He would give my card to the doctor. Meanwhile I +was quite at liberty to remain in the box till the ambulance came. I +thanked him. + +"In the meantime," said I, "if you can let me have a word with +Fraulein Dawkins, her maid, should she be in the theatre, or Quast her +attendant, I should be grateful." + +He promised and withdrew. The doorkeeper gave me a wooden chair, and +there I sat for an unconscionable time, faint and dizzy with suspense. +The chance words I had heard in the crowd, the manager's remark about +the claws, the memory of the savage spring at the beloved face made me +feel sick. Every now and then, as some doors leading to the stage +swung open, I could hear the orchestra and the laughter and applause +of the audience. Both Dawkins and Quast visited me. The former was in +a helpless state of tears and hand-wringing. As she knew no word of +German she could understand nothing that the doctors or others said. +Madame was unconscious. Her head was tightly bandaged. That was all +the definite information she had. + +"Did Madame know I was in front to-night?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes, sir! I think she had a letter from you. She was so pleased, +poor dear Madame. She told me that you would see the best performance +she had ever given." + +Whereupon she broke down and was useless for further examination. Then +Quast came. He could not understand how the accident had occurred. +Hephaestus had never before tried to attack her. She had absolute +mastery over him, and he usually behaved with her as gently as any of +the other cats. With himself it was quite different. He was accustomed +to Hephaestus springing at him; but then he beat him hard with a great +stick until he was so sore that he could neither stand up nor lie +down. + +"I have always implored Madame to carry something heavier than that +silly little whip, and now it's all over. She will never be able to +control him again. Hephaestus will have to be killed, and I will be +desolate. Ach, what a misfortune!" + +He began to weep. + +"Good God!" I cried; "you don't mean to say that you're sorry for the +brute?" + +"One can't help being fond of him. We have been for five years +inseparable companions!" + +I had no sympathy to fling away on him at that moment. + +"How do you account for his spring at Madame to-night? That's all I +want to know." + +"She must have been thinking of something else when she grabbed him. +For she missed her grip. Then he fell and was frightened, and she must +have lost her nerve. Hephaestus knew it, and sprang. That is always +the case when wild animals turn. All accidents happen like that." + +His words filled me with a new and sickening dread. + +/"She must have been thinking of something else."/ Of what else but of +my presence there? That stupid, selfish wave of the handkerchief! I +sat gnawing my hands and cursing myself. + +The ambulance arrived. Men hurried past my box. I waited again in +agony of mind. At last the porter came and cleared the passage and +doorway of loungers, and I heard the tread of footsteps and gruff +directions. The manager and a man in a frock-coat and black tie, whom +I recognised as the doctor, came down the passage, followed by two +great men carrying between them a stretcher covered by a sheet on +which lay all that I loved in life. Dawkins followed, weeping, and +then came several theatre folk. I went outside and saw the stretcher +put into the ambulance-van, and then I made myself known to the +doctor. + +"She has received very great injuries--chiefly the right cheek and +eye. So much so that she needs an oculist's care at once. I have +telephoned to Dr. Steinholz, of No. 4, Thiergarten, one of our ablest +oculists, to receive her now into his clinique. If you care to do so, +you are welcome to accompany me." + +I drove through the gay, flaring streets of Berlin like a man in a +phantasmagoria of horror. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +The first time they allowed me to see her was after many days of +nerve-racking anxiety. I had indeed called at the clinique two or +three times a day for news, and I had written short letters of comfort +and received weirdly-spelt messages taken down from Lola's dictation +by a nurse with an imperfect knowledge of English. These kept the +heart in me; for the doctor's reports were invariably grave--possible +loss of sight in the injured eye and permanent disfigurement their +most hopeful prognostications. I lived, too, in a nervous agony of +remorse. For whatever happened I held myself responsible. At first +they thought her life was in danger. I passed nightmare days. Then the +alarming symptoms subsided, and it was a question of the saving of the +eye and the decent healing of the cheek torn deep by the claws of the +accursed brute. When Quast informed me of its summary execution I felt +the primitive savage arise in me, and I upbraided Quast for not having +invited me to gloat over its expiring throes. How the days passed I +know not. I wandered about the streets, looking into the windows of +the great shops, buying flowers and fruit for Lola in eccentric +quantities. Or sitting in beerhouses reading the financial pages of a +German paper held upside down. I could not return to London. Still +less could I investigate the German philanthropic methods of rescuing +fallen women. I wrote to Campion a brief account of what had happened +and besought him to set a deputy to work on the regeneration of the +Judds. + +At last they brought me to where Lola lay, in a darkened room, with +her head tightly bandaged. A dark mass spread over the pillow which I +knew was her glorious hair. I could scarcely see the unbandaged half +of her face. She still suffered acute pain, and I was warned that my +visit could only be of brief duration, and that nothing but the +simplest matters could be discussed. I sat down on a chair by the left +side of the bed. Her wonderful nervous hand clung round mine as we +talked. + +The first thing she said to me, in a weak voice, like the faint echo +of her deep tones, was: + +"I'm going to lose all my good looks, Simon, and you won't care to +look at me any more." + +She said it so simply, so tenderly, without a hint of reproach in it, +that I almost shouted out my horrible remorse; but I remembered my +injunctions and refrained. I strove to comfort her, telling her +mythical tales of surgical reassurances. She shook her head sadly. + +"It was like you to stay in Berlin, Simon," she said, after a while. +"Although they wouldn't let me see you, yet I knew you were within +call. You can't conceive what a comfort it has been." + +"How could I leave you, dear," said I, "with the thought of you +throbbing in my head night and day?" + +"How did you find me?" + +"Through Conto and Blag. I tried all other means, you may be sure. But +now I've found you I shan't let you go again." + +This was not the time for elaborate explanations. She asked for none. +When one is very ill one takes the most unlikely happenings as +commonplace occurrences. It seemed enough to her that I was by her +side. We talked of her nurses, who were kind; of the skill of Dr. +Steinholz, who brought into his clinique the rigid discipline of a +man-of-war. + +"He wouldn't even let me have your flowers," she said. "And even if he +had I shouldn't have been able to see them in this dark hole." + +She questioned me as to my doings. I told her of my move to Barbara's +Building. + +"And I'm keeping you from all that splendid work," she said weakly. +"You must go back at once, Simon. I shall get along nicely now, and I +shall be happy now that I've seen you again." + +I kissed her fingers. "You have to learn a lesson, my dear, which will +do you an enormous amount of good." + +"What is that?" + +"The glorious duty of selfishness." + +Then the minute hand of the clock marked the end of the interview, and +the nurse appeared on the click and turned me out. + +After that I saw her daily; gradually our interviews lengthened, and +as she recovered strength our talks wandered from the little incidents +and interests of the sick-room to the general topics of our lives. I +told her of all that had happened to me since her flight. And I told +her that I wanted her and her only of all women. + +"Why--oh, why, did you do such a foolish thing?" I asked. + +"I did it for your good." + +"My dear, have you ever heard the story of the tender-hearted +elephant? No? It was told in a wonderful book published years ago and +called 'The Fables of George Washington AEsop.' This is it. There was +once an elephant who accidentally trod on the mother of a brood of +newly-hatched chickens. Her tender heart filled with remorse for what +she had done, and, overflowing with pity for the fluffy orphans, she +wept bitterly, and addressed them thus: 'Poor little motherless +things, doomed to face the rough world without a parent's care, I +myself will be a mother to you.' Whereupon, gathering them under her +with maternal fondness, she sat down on the whole brood." + +The unbandaged half of her face lit up with a wan smile. "Did I do +that?" + +"I didn't conceive it possible that you could love me except for the +outside things." + +"You might have waited and seen," said I in mild reproof. + +She sighed. "You'll never understand. Do you remember my saying once +that you reminded me of an English Duke?" + +"Yes." + +"You made fun of me; but you must have known what I meant. You see, +Simon, you didn't seem to care a hang for me in that way--until quite +lately. You were goodness and kindness itself, and I felt that you +would stick by me as a friend through thick and thin; but I had given +up hoping for anything else. And I knew there was some one only +waiting for you, a real refined lady. So when you kissed me, I didn't +dare believe it. And I had made you kiss me. I told you so, and I was +as ashamed as if I had suddenly turned into a loose woman. And when +Miss Faversham came, I knew it would be best for you to marry her, for +all the flattering things she said to me, I knew--" + +"My dear," I interrupted, "you didn't know at all. I loved you ever +since I saw you first lying like a wonderful panther in your chair at +Cadogan Gardens. You wove yourself into all my thoughts and around all +my actions. One of these days I'll show you a kind of diary I used to +keep, and you'll see how I abused you behind your back." + +Her face--or the dear half of it that was visible--fell. "Oh, why?" + +"For making me turn aside from the nice little smooth path to the +grave which I had marked out for myself. I regarded myself as a +genteel semi-corpse, and didn't want to be disturbed." + +"And I disturbed you?" + +"Until I danced with fury and called down on your dear head +maledictions which for fulness and snap would have made a mediaeval +Pope squirm with envy." + +She pressed my hand. "You are making fun again. I thought you were +serious." + +"I am. I'm telling you exactly what happened. Then, when I was rapidly +approaching the other world, it didn't matter. At last I died and came +to life again; but it took me a long time to come really to life. I +was like a tree in spring which has one bud which obstinately refuses +to burst into blossom. At last it did burst, and all the love that had +been working in my heart came to my lips; and, incidentally, my dear, +to yours." + +This was at the early stages of her recovery, when one could only +speak of gentle things. She told me of her simple Odyssey--a period of +waiting in Paris, an engagement at Vienna and Budapest, and then +Berlin. Her agents had booked a week in Dresden, and a fortnight in +Homburg, and she would have to pay the forfeit for breach of contract. + +"I'm sorry for Anastasius's sake," she said. "The poor little mite +wrote me rapturous letters when he heard I was out with the cats. He +gave me a long special message for each, which I was to whisper in its +ear." + +Poor little Anastasius Papadopoulos! She showed me his letters, +written in a great round, flourishing, sanguine hand. He seemed to be +happy enough at the Maison de Sante. He had formed, he said, a school +for the cats of the establishment, for which the authorities were very +grateful, and he heralded the completion of his gigantic combinations +with regard to the discovery of the assassin of the horse Sultan. Lola +and I never spoke of him without pain; for in spite of his crazy and +bombastic oddities, he had qualities that were lovable. + +"And now," said Lola, "I must tell him that Hephaestus has been killed +and the rest are again idling under the care of the faithful Quast. It +seemed a pity to kill the poor beast." + +"I wish to Heaven," said I, "that he had been strangled at birth." + +"You never liked him." She smiled wanly. "But he is scarcely to be +blamed. I grew unaccountably nervous and lost control. All savage +animals are like that." And, seeing that I was about to protest +vehemently, she smiled again. "Remember, I'm a lion-tamer's daughter, +and brought up from childhood to regard these things as part of the +show. There must always come a second's failure of concentration. Lots +of tamers meet their deaths sooner or later for the same reason--just +a sudden loss of magnetism. The beast gets frightened and springs." + +Exactly what Quast had told me. Exactly what I myself had divined at +the sickening moment. I bowed my head and laid the back of her cool +hand against it, and groaned out my remorse. If I had not been there! +If I had not distracted her attention! She would not listen to my +self-reproach. It had nothing to do with me. She had simply missed her +grip and lost her head. She forbade me to mention the subject again. +The misery of thinking that I held myself to blame was unbearable. I +said no more, realising the acute distress of her generous soul, but +in my heart I made a deep vow of reparation. + +It was, however, with no such chivalrous feelings, but out of the +simple longing to fulfil my life that I asked her definitely, for the +first time, to marry me as soon as she could get about the world +again. I put before her with what delicacy I could that if she had +foolish ideas of my being above her in station, she was above me in +worldly fortune, and thus we both had to make some sacrifices to our +pride. I said that my work was found--that our lives could be +regulated as she wished. + +She listened, without saying a word, until I had finished. Then she +took my hand. + +"I'm grateful," she said, "and I'm proud. And I know that I love you +beyond all things on earth. But I won't give you an answer till I'm up +and about on my feet again." + +"Why?" I insisted. + +"Don't ask. And don't mention the matter again. You must be good to +me, because I'm ill, and do what I say." + +She smiled and fondled my hand, and cajoled a reluctant promise from +me. + +Then came days in which, for no obvious reason, Lola received me with +anxious frightened diffidence, and spoke with constraint. The +cheerfulness which she had hitherto exhibited gave place to dull +depression. She urged me continually to leave Berlin, where, as she +said, I was wasting my time, and return to my work in London. + +"I shall be all right, Simon, perfectly all right, and as soon as I +can travel, I'll come straight to London." + +"I'm not going to let you slip through my fingers again," I would say +laughingly. + +"But I promise you, I'll swear to you I'll come back! Only I can't +bear to think of you idling around a woman's sick-bed, when you have +such glorious things to do at home. That's a man's work, Simon. This +isn't." + +"But it is a man's work," I would declare, "to devote himself to the +woman he loves and not to leave her helpless, a stranger in a strange +land." + +"I wish you would go, Simon. I do wish you would go!" she would say +wearily. "It's the only favour I've ever asked you in my life." + +Man-like, I looked within myself to find the reason for these earnest +requests. In casting off my jester's suit had I also divested myself +of the power to be a decently interesting companion? Had I become +merely a dull, tactless, egotistical bore? Was I, in simple, naked, +horrid fact, getting on an invalid's delicate nerves? I was scared of +the new picture of myself thus presented. I became self-conscious and +made particular efforts to bring a little gaiety into our talk; but +though she smiled with her lips, the cloud, whatever it was, hung +heavily on her mind, and at the first opportunity she came back to the +ceaseless argument. + +In despair I took her nurse into my confidence. + +"She is right," said the nurse. "You are doing her more harm than +good. You had better go away and write to her daily from London." + +"But why--but why?" I clamoured. "Can't you give me any reason?" + +The nurse glanced at me with a touch of feminine scorn. + +"The bandages will soon be removed." + +"Well?" said I. + +"The sight of one eye may be gone." + +"I know," said I. "She is reconciled to it. She has the courage and +resignation of a saint." + +"She has also the very common and natural fears of a woman." + +"For Heaven's sake," I cried, "tell me plainly what you mean." + +"We don't quite know what disfigurement will result," said the nurse +bluntly. "It is certain to be very great, and the dread of your seeing +her is making her ill and retarding her recovery. So if you have any +regard for her, pack up your things and go away." + +"But," I remonstrated, "I'm bound to see her sooner or later." + +The nurse lost patience. "Ach! Can't you get it into your head that it +is essential it should be later, when she is strong enough to stand +the strain and has realised the worst and made her little +preparations?" + +I accepted the rebuke meekly. The situation, when explained, was +comprehensible to the meanest masculine intelligence. + +"I will go," said I. + +When I announced this determination to Lola she breathed a deep sigh +of relief. + +"I shall be so much happier," she said. + +Then she raised both her arms and drew my head down until our lips +met. "Dear," she whispered, still holding me, "if I hadn't run away +from you before I should run away now; but it would be silly to do it +twice. So I'll come to London as soon as the doctor will let me. But +if you find you don't and can't possibly love me I shan't feel hurt +with you. I've had some months, I know, of your love, and that will +last me all my life; and I know that whatever happens you'll be my +very dear and devoted friend." + +"I shall be your lover always!" I swore. + +She shook her head and released me. A great pity welled up in my +heart, for I know now why she had forbidden me to speak of marriage, +and in some dim way I got to the depth of her woman's nature. I +realised, as far as a man can, how the sudden blasting of a woman's +beauty must revolutionise not only her own attitude towards the world, +but her conception of the world's attitude towards her. Only a few +weeks before she had gone about proudly conscious of her superb +magnificence. It was the triumphant weapon in her woman's armoury, to +use when she so chose. It had illuminated a man's journey (I knew and +felt it now) through the Valley of the Shadow. It had held his senses +captive. It had brought him to her feet. It was a charm that she could +always offer to his eyes. It was her glory and her pride to enhance it +for his delectation. Her beauty was herself. That gone, she had +nothing but a worthless soul to offer, and what woman would dream of +offering a man her soul if she had no casket in which to enshrine it? +If I had presented this other aspect of the case to Lola, she would +have cried out, with perfect sincerity: + +"My soul! You get things like mine anywhere for twopence a dozen." + +It was the blasting of her beauty that was the infinite matter. All +that I loved would be gone. She would have nothing left to give. The +splendour of the day had ceased, and now was coming the long, long, +dreary night, to meet which with dignity she was nerving her brave +heart. + +The tears were not far from my eyes when I said again softly: + +"Your lover always, dear." + +"Make no promises," she said, "except one." + +"And that is?" + +"That you will write me often until I come home." + +"Every day." + +So we parted, and I returned to London and to my duties at Barbara's +Building. I wrote daily, and her dictated answers gave me knowledge of +her progress. To my immense relief, I heard that the oculist's skill +had saved her eyesight; but it could not obliterate the traces of the +cruel claws. + +The days, although fuller with work and interests, appeared long until +she came. I saw but little of the outside world. Dale, my sister +Agatha, Sir Joshua Oldfield, and Campion were the only friends I met. +Dale was ingenuously sympathetic when he head of the calamity. + +"What's going to happen?" he asked, after he had exhausted his +vocabulary of abuse on cats, Providence and Anastasius Papadopoulos. +"What's the poor dear going to do?" + +"If I am going to have any voice in the matter," said I, "she is going +to marry me." + +He wrung me by the hand enthusiastically and declared that I was the +splendidest fellow that ever lived. Then he sighed. + +"I am going about like a sheep without a leader. For Heaven's sake, +come back into politics. Form a hilarious little party of your own-- +anything--so long as you're back and take me with you." + +"Come to Barbara's Building," said I. + +But he made a wry face, and said that he did not think Maisie would +like it. I laughed and put my hand on his shoulder. + +"My son, you have a leader already, and she has already tied a blue +riband round your woolly neck, and she is pulling you wherever she +wants to go. And it's all to the infinite advantage of your eternal +soul." + +Whereupon he grinned and departed to the sheepfold. + +At last Lola came. She begged me not to meet her at the station, but +to go round after dinner to Cadogan Gardens. + +Dawkins opened the door for me and showed me into the familiar +drawing-room. The long summer day was nearing its end, and only a dim +twilight came through the open windows. Lola was standing rigid on the +hearthrug, her hand shielding the whole of the right side of her face. +With the free hand she checked my impetuous advance. + +"Stop and look!" she said, and then dropped the shielding hand, and +stood before me with twitching lips and death in her eyes. I saw in a +flash the devastation that had been wrought; but, thank God, I pierced +beneath it to the anguish in her heart. The pity--the awful, poignant +pity--of it smote me. Everything that was man in me surged towards +her. What she saw in my eyes I know not; but in hers dawned a sudden +wonder. There was no recoil of shock, such as she had steeled herself +to encounter. I sprang forward and clasped her in my arms. Her +stiffened frame gradually relaxed and our lips met, and in that kiss +all fears and doubts were dissolved for ever. + +Some hours later she said: "If you are blind enough to care for a +maimed thing like me, I can't help it. I shall never understand it to +my dying day," she added with a long sigh. + +"And you will marry me?" + +"I suppose I've got to," she replied. And with the old pantherine +twist of her body she slid from her easy-chair to the ground and +buried her face on my knees. + + + +And that is the end of my story. We were quietly married three weeks +afterwards. Agatha, wishing to humour a maniac for whom she retained +an unreasonable affection, came to the wedding and treated Lola as +only a sweet lady could. But my doings passed her understanding. As +for Jane, my other sister, she cast me from her. People who did these +things, she maintained, must bear the consequences. I bore them +bravely. It is only now that my name is beginning to be noised abroad +as that of one who speaks with some knowledge on certain social +questions that Jane holds out the olive branch of fraternal peace. +After a brief honeymoon Lola insisted on joining me in Barbara's +Building. A set of rooms next to mine was vacant, and Campion, who +welcomed a new worker, had the two sets thrown into what house-agents +term a commodious flat. She is now Lady Superior of the Institution. +The title is Campion's, and for some odd feminine reason Lola is +delighted with it. + +Yes, this is the end of the story which I began (it seems in a +previous incarnation) at Murglebed-on-Sea. + +The maiming of Lola's beauty has been the last jest which the Arch- +Jester has practised on me. I fancy he thought that this final scurvy +trick would wipe Simon de Gex for ever out of the ranks of his rivals. +But I flatter myself that, having snapped my fingers in his face, the +last laugh has been on my side. He has withdrawn discomfited from the +conflict and left me master of the ground. Love conquers all, even the +Arch-Jester. + +There are some who still point to me as one who has deliberately +ruined a brilliant career, who pity me as one who has gone under, who +speak with shrugged shoulders and uplifted eyebrows at my unfortunate +marriage and my obscure and cranky occupation. The world, they say, +was at my feet. So it was. But what the pitying critics lack the grace +to understand is that better than to have it under one's feet is to +have it, or that of it which matters, at one's heart. + +I sit in this tiny hotel by the sea and reflect that it is over three +years since I awoke from death and assumed a new avatar. And since my +marriage, what have been the happenings? + +Dale has just been elected for the Fensham Division of Westmoreland, +and he has already begun the line of sturdy young Kynnersleys, of +which I had eumoirous dreams long ago. Quast and the cats have passed +into alien hands. Anastasius Papadopoulos is dead. He died three +months ago of angina pectoris, and Lola was with him at the end. +Eleanor Faversham has married a Colonial bishop. Campion, too, has +married--and married the last woman in the world to whom one would +have thought of mating him--a frivolous butterfly of a creature who +drags him to dinner-parties and Ascot and suppers at the Savoy, and +holds Barbara's Building and all it connotes in vixenish detestation. +He roars out the agony of his philanthropic spirit to Lola and myself, +who administer consolation and the cold mutton that he loves. The +story of his marriage is a little lunatic drama all to itself and I +will tell it some day. But now I can only rough-sketch the facts. He +works when he can at the beloved creation of his life and fortune; but +the brain that would be inadequate to the self-protecting needs of a +ferret controls the action of this masterful enthusiast, and his one +awful despair in life is to touch a heart that might beat in the bosom +of a vicious and calculating haddock. I only mention this to explain +how it has come to pass that Lola and I are now all-powerful in +Barbara's Building. It has become the child of our adoption and we +love it with a deep and almost fanatic affection. Before Lola my +influence and personality fade into nothingness. She is the power, the +terror, the adoration of Lambeth. If she chose she could control the +Parliamentary vote of the borough. Her great, direct, large-hearted +personality carries all before it. And with it there is something of +the uncanny. A feat of hers in the early days is by way of becoming +legendary. + +A woman, on the books of the Building, was about to bring a hopeless +human fragment into a grey world. Lola went to see what aid the +Building could provide. In front of the door lounged the husband, a +hulking porter in a Bermondsey factory. Glowering at his feet lay a +vicious mongrel dog--bull-terrier, Irish-terrier, mastiff--so did Lola +with her trained eye distinguish the strains. When she asked for his +wife in travail the chivalrous gentleman took his pipe from his mouth, +spat, and after the manner of his kind referred to the disfigurement +of her face in terms impossible to transcribe. She paid no attention. + +"I'm coming upstairs to see your wife." + +"If you pass that door, s'welp me Gawd, I'll set the dog on yer." + +She paused. He urged the dog, who bristled and growled and showed his +teeth. Lola picked the animal up, as she would have picked up a sofa +cushion, and threw him across the street. She went to where he had +fallen, ordered him to his feet, and the dog licked her hand. She came +back with a laugh. + +"I'll do the same to you if you don't let me in!" + +She pushed the hulking brute aside. He resisted and laid hands on her. +By some extraordinary tamer's art of which she had in vain tried to +explain to me the secret, and with no apparent effort, she glided away +from him and sent him cowering and subdued some feet beyond the lintel +of the door. The street, which was watching, went into a roar of +laughter and applause. Lola mounted the stairs and attended to the +business in hand. When she came down the man was still standing at the +threshold smoking an obfusticated pipe. He blinked at her as if she +had been a human dynamo. + +"Come round to Barbara's Building at six o'clock and tell me how she +is." + +He came on the stroke of six. + +The fame of Lola spread through the borough, and now she can walk +feared, honoured, unmolested by night or by day through the streets of +horror and crime, which neither I nor any other man--no matter how +courageous--dare enter at certain hours without the magical protection +of a policeman. + +Sunshine has come at last, both into this little backwater of the +world by the sea and into my own life, and it is time I should end +this futile record. + +Yesterday as we lay on the sands, watching the waves idly lap the +shore, Lola brought herself nearer to me with a rhythmic movement as +no other creature form of woman is capable of, and looked into my +eyes. And she whispered something to me which led to an infinite +murmuring of foolish things. I put my arms round her and kissed her on +the lips and on her cheek--whether the beautiful or the maimed I knew +not--and she sank into a long, long silence. At last she said: + +"What are you thinking of?" + +I said, "I'm thinking that not a single human being on the face of the +earth has a sense of humour." + +"What do you mean?" she asked. + +"Simply this," said I, "that what has occurred billions of billions of +millions of times on the earth we are now regarding as the only thing +that ever happened." + +"Well," said Lola, "so it is--for us--the only thing that ever +happened." + +And the astounding woman was right. + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Simon the Jester, by William J. Locke + diff --git a/old/sjstr10.zip b/old/sjstr10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6342f7e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/sjstr10.zip |