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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Masquerader, by Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
+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: The Masquerader
+
+Author: Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
+Release Date: April, 2004 [EBook #5422]
+Last Updated: August 18, 2012
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUERADER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MASQUERADER
+
+By Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+Two incidents, widely different in character yet bound together by
+results, marked the night of January the twenty-third. On that night the
+blackest fog within a four years' memory fell upon certain portions of
+London, and also on that night came the first announcement of the border
+risings against the Persian government in the province of Khorasan the
+announcement that, speculated upon, even smiled at, at the time, assumed
+such significance in the light of after events.
+
+At eight o'clock the news spread through the House of Commons; but at
+nine men in the inner lobbies were gossiping, not so much upon how far
+Russia, while ostensibly upholding the Shah, had pulled the strings
+by which the insurgents danced, as upon the manner in which the 'St.
+George's Gazette', the Tory evening newspaper, had seized upon the
+incident and shaken it in the faces of the government.
+
+More than once before, Lakely--the owner and editor of the 'St.
+George's'--had stepped outside the decorous circle of tradition and
+taken a plunge into modern journalism, but to-night he essayed deeper
+waters than before, and under an almost sensational heading declared
+that in this apparently innocent border rising we had less an outcome
+of mere racial antagonism than a first faint index of a long-cherished
+Russian scheme, growing to a gradual maturity under the "drift" policy
+of the present British government.
+
+The effect produced by this pronouncement, if strong, was varied.
+Members of the Opposition saw, or thought they saw, a reflection of it
+in the smiling unconcern on the Ministerial benches; and the government
+had an uneasy sense that behind the newly kindled interest on the other
+side of the House lay some mysterious scenting of battle from afar
+off. But though these impressions ran like electricity through the
+atmosphere, nothing tangible marked their passage, and the ordinary
+business of the House proceeded until half-past eleven, when an
+adjournment was moved.
+
+The first man to hurry from his place was John Chilcote, member for
+East Wark. He passed out of the House quickly, with the half-furtive
+quickness that marks a self-absorbed man; and as he passed the policeman
+standing stolidly under the arched door-way of the big court-yard he
+swerved a little, as if startled out of his thoughts. He realized his
+swerve almost before it was accomplished, and pulled himself together
+with nervous irritability.
+
+"Foggy night, constables," he said, with elaborate carelessness.
+
+"Foggy night, sir, and thickening up west," responded the man.
+
+"Ah, indeed!" Chilcote's answer was absent. The constable's cheery voice
+jarred on him, and for the second time he was conscious of senseless
+irritation.
+
+Without a further glance at the man, he slipped out into the court-yard
+and turned towards the main gate.
+
+At the gate-way two cab lamps showed through the mist of shifting fog
+like the eyes of a great cat, and the familiar "Hansom, sir?" came to
+him indistinctly.
+
+He paused by force of custom; and, stepping forward, had almost touched
+the open door when a new impulse caused him to draw back.
+
+"No," he said, hurriedly. "No. I'll walk."
+
+The cabman muttered, lashed his horse, and with a clatter of hoofs and
+harness wheeled away; while Chilcote, still with uncertain hastiness,
+crossed the road in the direction of Whitehall.
+
+About the Abbey the fog had partially lifted, and in the railed garden
+that faces the Houses of Parliament the statues were visible in a
+spectral way. But Chilcote's glance was unstable and indifferent; he
+skirted the railings heedlessly, and, crossing the road with the speed
+of long familiarity, gained Whitehall on the lefthand side.
+
+There the fog had dropped, and, looking upward towards Trafalgar Square,
+it seemed that the chain of lamps extended little farther than the Horse
+Guards, and that beyond lay nothing.
+
+Unconscious of this capricious alternation between darkness and light,
+Chilcote continued his course. To a close observer the manner of
+his going had both interest and suggestion; for though he walked on,
+apparently self-engrossed, yet at every dozen steps he started at
+some sound or some touch, like a man whose nervous system is painfully
+overstrung.
+
+Maintaining his haste, he went deliberately forward, oblivious of the
+fact that at each step the curtain of darkness about him became closer,
+damper, more tangible; that at each second the passers-by jostled each
+other with greater frequency. Then, abruptly, with a sudden realization
+of what had happened, he stood quite still. Without anticipation
+or preparation he had walked full into the thickness of the fog--a
+thickness so dense that, as by an enchanter's wand, the figures of a
+moment before melted, the street lamps were sucked up into the night.
+
+His first feeling was a sense of panic at the sudden isolation, his
+second a thrill of nervous apprehension at the oblivion that had allowed
+him to be so entrapped. The second feeling outweighed the first. He
+moved forward, then paused again, uncertain of himself. Finally, with
+the consciousness that inaction was unbearable, he moved on once more,
+his eyes wide open, one hand thrust out as a protection and guide.
+
+The fog had closed in behind him as heavily as in front, shutting
+off all possibility of retreat; all about him in the darkness was a
+confusion of voices--cheerful, dubious, alarmed, or angry; now and then
+a sleeve brushed his or a hand touched him tentatively. It was a strange
+moment, a moment of possibilities, to which the crunching wheels, the
+oaths and laughter from the blocked traffic of the road-way, made a
+continuous accompaniment.
+
+Keeping well to the left, Chilcote still beat on; there was a
+persistence in his movements that almost amounted to fear--a fear born
+of the solitude filled with innumerable sounds. For a space he groped
+about him without result, then his fingers touched the cold surface of
+a shuttered shop-front, and a thrill of reassurance passed through him.
+With renewed haste, and clinging to his landmark as a blind man might,
+he started forward with fresh impetus.
+
+For a dozen paces he moved rapidly and unevenly, then the natural result
+occurred. He collided with a man coming in the opposite direction.
+
+The shock was abrupt. Both men swore simultaneously, then both laughed.
+The whole thing was casual, but Chilcote was in that state of mind when
+even the commonplace becomes abnormal. The other man's exclamation, the
+other man's laugh, struck on his nerves; coming out of the darkness,
+they sounded like a repetition of his own.
+
+Nine out of every ten men in London, given the same social position and
+the same education, might reasonably be expected to express annoyance
+or amusement in the same manner, possibly in the same tone of voice; and
+Chilcote remembered this almost at the moment of his nervous jar.
+
+"Beastly fog!" he said, aloud. "I'm trying to find Grosvenor Square, but
+the chances seem rather small."
+
+The other laughed again, and again the laugh upset Chilcote. He wondered
+uncomfortably if he was becoming a prey to illusions. But the stranger
+spoke before the question had solved itself.
+
+"I'm afraid they are small," he said. "It would be almost hard to find
+one's way to the devil on a night like this."
+
+Chilcote made a murmur of amusement and drew back against the shop.
+
+"Yes. We can see now where the blind man scores in the matter of
+salvation. This is almost a repetition of the fog of six years ago. Were
+you out in that?"
+
+It was a habit of his to jump from one sentence to another, a habit that
+had grown of late.
+
+"No." The stranger had also groped his way to the shopfront. "No, I was
+out of England six years ago."
+
+"You were lucky." Chilcote turned up the collar of his coat. "It was an
+atrocious fog, as black as this, but more universal. I remember it well.
+It was the night Lexington made his great sugar speech. Some of us were
+found on Lambeth Bridge at three in the morning, having left the House
+at twelve."
+
+Chilcote seldom indulged in reminiscences, but this conversation with
+an unseen companion was more like a soliloquy than a dialogue. He was
+almost surprised into an exclamation when the other caught up his words.
+
+"Ah! The sugar speech!" he said. "Odd that I should have been looking
+it up only yesterday. What a magnificent dressing-up of a dry subject it
+was! What a career Lexington promised in those days!"
+
+Chilcote changed his position.
+
+"You are interested in the muddle down at Westminster?" he asked,
+sarcastically.
+
+"I--?" It was the turn of the stranger to draw back a step. "Oh, I
+read my newspaper with the other five million, that is all. I am an
+outsider." His voice sounded curt; the warmth that admiration had
+brought into it a moment before had frozen abruptly.
+
+"An outsider!" Chilcote repeated. "What an enviable word!"
+
+"Possibly, to those who are well inside the ring. But let us go back to
+Lexington. What a pinnacle the man reached, and what a drop he had! It
+has always seemed to me an extraordinary instance of the human leaven
+running through us all. What was the real cause of his collapse?" he
+asked, suddenly. "Was it drugs or drink? I have often wished to get at
+the truth."
+
+Again Chilcote changed his attitude.
+
+"Is truth ever worth getting at?" he asked, irrelevantly.
+
+"In the case of a public man--yes. He exchanges his privacy for the
+interest of the masses. If he gives the masses the details of his
+success, why not the details of his failure? But was it drink that
+sucked him under?"
+
+"No." Chilcote's response came after a pause.
+
+"Drugs?"
+
+Again Chilcote hesitated. And at the moment of his indecision a woman
+brushed past him, laughing boisterously. The sound jarred him.
+
+"Was it drugs?" the stranger went on easily. "I have always had a theory
+that it was."
+
+"Yes. It was morphia." The answer came before Chilcote had realized it.
+The woman's laugh at the stranger's quiet persistence had contrived to
+draw it from him. Instantly he had spoken he looked about him quickly,
+like one who has for a moment forgotten a necessary vigilance.
+
+There was silence while the stranger thought over the information just
+given him. Then he spoke again, with a new touch of vehemence.
+
+"So I imagined," he said. "Though, on my soul, I never really credited
+it. To have gained so much, and to have thrown it away for a common
+vice!" He made an exclamation of disgust.
+
+Chilcote gave an unsteady laugh. "You judge hardly." he said.
+
+The other repeated his sound of contempt. "Justly so. No man has the
+right to squander what another would give his soul for. It lessens the
+general respect for power."
+
+"You are a believer in power?" The tone was sarcastic, but the sarcasm
+sounded thin.
+
+"Yes. All power is the outcome of individuality, either past or present.
+I find no sentiment for the man who plays with it."
+
+The quiet contempt of the tone stung Chilcote.
+
+"Do you imagine that Lexington made no fight?" he asked, impulsively.
+"Can't you picture the man's struggle while the vice that had been slave
+gradually became master?" He stopped to take breath, and in the cold
+pause that followed it seemed to him that the other made a murmur of
+incredulity.
+
+"Perhaps you think of morphia as a pleasure?" he added. "Think of it,
+instead, as a tyrant--that tortures the mind if held to, and the body if
+cast off." Urged by the darkness and the silence of his companion, the
+rein of his speech had loosened. In that moment he was not Chilcote
+the member for East Wark, whose moods and silences were proverbial, but
+Chilcote the man whose mind craved the relief of speech.
+
+"You talk as the world talks--out of ignorance and self-righteousness,"
+he went on. "Before you condemn Lexington you should put yourself in his
+place--"
+
+"As you do?" the other laughed.
+
+Unsuspecting and inoffensive as the laugh was, it startled Chilcote.
+With a sudden alarm he pulled himself up.
+
+"I--?" He tried to echo the laugh, but the attempt fell flat. "Oh,
+I merely speak from--from De Quincey. But I believe this fog is
+shifting--I really believe it is shifting. Can you oblige me with a
+light? I had almost forgotten that a man may still smoke though he
+has been deprived of sight." He spoke fast and disjointedly. He was
+overwhelmed by the idea that he had let himself go, and possessed by the
+wish to obliterate the consequences. As he talked he fumbled; for his
+cigarette-case.
+
+His bead was bent as he searched for it nervously. Without looking
+up, he was conscious that the cloud of fog that held him prisoner
+was lifting, rolling away, closing back again, preparatory to final
+disappearance. Having found the case, he put a cigarette between his
+lips and raised his hand at the moment that the stranger drew a match
+across his box.
+
+For a second each stared blankly at the other's face, suddenly made
+visible by the lifting of the fog. The match in the stranger's hand
+burned down till it scorched his fingers, and, feeling the pain, he
+laughed and let it drop.
+
+"Of all odd things!" he said. Then he broke off. The circumstance was
+too novel for ordinary remark.
+
+By one of those rare occurrences, those chances that seem too wild for
+real life and yet belong to no other sphere, the two faces so strangely
+hidden and strangely revealed were identical, feature for feature. It
+seemed to each man that he looked not at the face of another, but at his
+own face reflected in a flawless looking-glass.
+
+Of the two, the stranger was the first to regain self-possession. Seeing
+Chilcote's bewilderment, he came to his rescue with brusque tactfulness.
+
+"The position is decidedly odd," he said. "But after all, why should
+we be so surprised? Nature can't be eternally original; she must dry
+up sometimes, and when she gets a good model why shouldn't she use it
+twice?" He drew back, surveying Chilcote whimsically. "But, pardon me,
+you are still waiting for that light!"
+
+Chilcote still held the cigarette between his lips. The paper had become
+dry, and he moistened it as he leaned towards his companion.
+
+"Don't mind me," he said. "I'm rather--rather unstrung to-night, and
+this thing gave me a jar. To be candid, my imagination took head in the
+fog, and I got to fancy I was talking to myself--"
+
+"And pulled up to find the fancy in some way real?"
+
+"Yes. Something like that."
+
+Both were silent for a moment. Chilcote pulled hard at his cigarette,
+then, remembering his obligations, he turned quickly to the other.
+
+"Won't you smoke?" he asked.
+
+The stranger accepted a cigarette from the case held out to him; and
+as he did so the extraordinary likeness to himself struck Chilcote with
+added force. Involuntarily he put out his hand and touched the other's
+arm.
+
+"It's my nerves!" he said, in explanation. "They make me want to feel
+that you are substantial. Nerves play such beastly tricks!" He laughed
+awkwardly.
+
+The other glanced up. His expression on the moment was slightly
+surprised, slightly contemptuous, but he changed it instantly to
+conventional interest. "I am afraid I am not an authority on nerves," he
+said.
+
+But Chilcote was preoccupied. His thoughts had turned into another
+channel.
+
+"How old are you?" he asked, suddenly.
+
+The other did not answer immediately. "My age?" he said at last, slowly.
+"Oh, I believe I shall be thirty-six to-morrow--to be quite accurate."
+
+Chilcote lifted his head quickly.
+
+"Why do you use that tone?" he asked. "I am six months older than you,
+and I only wish it was six years. Six years nearer oblivion--"
+
+Again a slight incredulous contempt crossed the other's eyes.
+"Oblivion?" he said. "Where are your ambitions?"
+
+"They don't exist."
+
+"Don't exist? Yet you voice your country? I concluded that much in the
+fog."
+
+Chilcote laughed sarcastically.
+
+"When one has voiced one's country for six years one gets hoarse--it's a
+natural consequence."
+
+The other smiled. "Ah, discontent!" he said. "The modern canker. But
+we must both be getting under way. Good-night! Shall we shake hands--to
+prove that we are genuinely material?"
+
+Chilcote had been standing unusually still, following the stranger's
+words--caught by his self-reliance and impressed by his personality.
+Now, as he ceased to speak, he moved quickly forward, impelled by a
+nervous curiosity.
+
+"Why should we just hail each other and pass--like the proverbial
+ships?" he said, impulsively. "If Nature was careless enough to let the
+reproduction meet the original, she must abide the consequences."
+
+The other laughed, but his laugh was short. "Oh, I don't know. Our roads
+lie differently. You would get nothing out of me, and I--" He stopped
+and again laughed shortly. "No," he said; "I'd be content to pass, if
+I were you. The unsuccessful man is seldom a profitable study. Shall we
+say good-night?"
+
+He took Chilcote's hand for an instant; then, crossing the footpath, he
+passed into the road-way towards the Strand.
+
+It was done in a moment; but with his going a sense of loss fell upon
+Chilcote. He stood for a space, newly conscious of unfamiliar faces and
+unfamiliar voices in the stream of passersby; then, suddenly mastered by
+an impulse, he wheeled rapidly and darted after the tall, lean figure so
+ridiculously like his own.
+
+Half-way across Trafalgar Square he overtook the stranger. He had paused
+on one of the small stone islands that break the current of traffic,
+and was waiting for an opportunity to cross the street. In the glare
+of light from the lamp above his head, Chilcote saw for the first time
+that, under a remarkable neatness of appearance, his clothes were well
+worn--almost shabby. The discovery struck him with something stronger
+than surprise. The idea of poverty seemed incongruous is connection with
+the reliance, the reserve, the personality of the man. With a certain
+embarrassed haste he stepped forward and touched his arm.
+
+"Look here," he said, as the other turned quietly. "I have followed you
+to exchange cards. It can't injure either of us, and I--I have a wish to
+know my other self." He laughed nervously as he drew out his card-case.
+
+The stranger watched him in silence. There was the same faint contempt,
+but also there was a reluctant interest in his glance, as it passed from
+the fingers fumbling with the case to the pale face with the square jaw,
+straight mouth, and level eyebrows drawn low over the gray eyes. When at
+last the card was held out to him he took it without remark and slipped
+it into his pocket.
+
+Chilcote looked at him eagerly. "Now the exchange?" he said.
+
+For a second the stranger did not respond. Then, almost unexpectedly, he
+smiled.
+
+"After all, if it amuses you--" he said; and, searching in his waistcoat
+pocket, he drew out the required card.
+
+"It will leave you quite unenlightened," he added. "The name of a
+failure never spells anything." With another smile, partly amused,
+partly ironical, he stepped from the little island and disappeared into
+the throng of traffic.
+
+Chilcote stood for an instant gazing at the point where he had vanished;
+then, turning to the lamp, he lifted the card and read the name it bore:
+"Mr. John Loder, 13 Clifford's Inn."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+On the morning following the night of fog Chilcote woke at nine. He woke
+at the moment that his man Allsopp tiptoed across the room and laid the
+salver with his early cup of tea on the table beside the bed.
+
+For several seconds he lay with his eyes shut; the effort of opening
+them on a fresh day--the intimate certainty of what he would see
+on opening them--seemed to weight his lids. The heavy, half-closed
+curtains; the blinds severely drawn; the great room with its splendid
+furniture, its sober coloring, its scent of damp London winter; above
+all, Allsopp, silent, respectful, and respectable--were things to dread.
+
+A full minute passed while he still feigned sleep. He heard Allsopp stir
+discreetly, then the inevitable information broke the silence:
+
+"Nine o'clock, sir!"
+
+He opened his eyes, murmured something, and closed them again.
+
+The man moved to the window, quietly pulled back the curtains and half
+drew the blind.
+
+"Better night, sir, I hope?" he ventured, softly.
+
+Chilcote had drawn the bedclothes over his face to screen himself from
+the daylight, murky though it was.
+
+"Yes," he responded. "Those beastly nightmares didn't trouble me,
+for once." He shivered a little as at some recollection. "But don't
+talk--don't remind me of them. I hate a man who has no originality."
+He spoke sharply. At times he showed an almost childish irritation over
+trivial things.
+
+Allsopp took the remark in silence. Crossing the wide room, he began
+to lay out his master's clothes. The action affected Chilcote to fresh
+annoyance.
+
+"Confound it!" he said. "I'm sick of that routine: I can see you laying
+out my winding-sheet the day of my burial. Leave those things. Come back
+in half an hour."
+
+Allsopp allowed himself one glance at his master's figure huddled in the
+great bed; then, laying aside the coat he was holding, he moved to the
+door. With his: fingers on the handle he paused.
+
+"Will you breakfast in your own room, sir--or down-stairs?"
+
+Chilcote drew the clothes more tightly round his shoulders. "Oh,
+anywhere--nowhere!" he said. "I don't care."
+
+Allsopp softly withdrew.
+
+Left to himself, Chilcote sat up in bed and lifted the salver to his
+knees. The sudden movement jarred him physically; he drew a handkerchief
+from under the pillow and wiped his forehead; then he held his hand to
+the light and studied it. The hand looked sallow and unsteady. With a
+nervous gesture he thrust the salver back upon the table and slid out of
+bed.
+
+Moving hastily across the room, he stopped before one of the tall
+wardrobes and swung the door open; then after a furtive glance around
+the room he thrust his hand into the recesses of a shelf and fumbled
+there.
+
+The thing he sought was evidently not hard to find, for almost at once
+he withdrew his hand and moved from the wardrobe to a table beside the
+fireplace, carrying a small glass tube filled with tabloids.
+
+On the table were a decanter, a siphon, and a water-jug. Mixing some
+whiskey, he uncorked the tube, again he glanced apprehensively towards
+the door, then with a very nervous hand dropped two tabloids into the
+glass.
+
+While they dissolved he stood with his hand on the table and his eyes
+fixed on the floor, evidently restraining his impatience. Instantly
+they had disappeared he seized the glass and drained it at a draught,
+replaced the bottle in the wardrobe, and, shivering slightly in the raw
+air, slipped back into bed.
+
+When Allsopp returned he was sitting up, a cigarette between his lips,
+the teacup standing empty on the salver. The nervous irritability
+had gone from his manner. He no longer moved jerkily, his eyes looked
+brighter, his pale skin more healthy.
+
+"Ah, Allsopp," he said, "there are some moments in life, after all. It
+isn't all blank wall."
+
+"I ordered breakfast in the small morning-room, sir," said Allsopp,
+without a change of expression.
+
+Chilcote breakfasted at ten. His appetite, always fickle, was
+particularly uncertain in the early hours. He helped himself to some
+fish, but sent away his plate untouched; then, having drunk two cups of
+tea, he pushed back his chair, lighted a fresh cigarette, and shook out
+the morning's newspaper.
+
+Twice he shook it out and twice turned it, but the reluctance to fix his
+mind upon it made him dally.
+
+The effect of the morphia tabloids was still apparent in the
+greater steadiness of his hand and eye, the regained quiet of his
+susceptibilities, but the respite was temporary and lethargic. The early
+days--the days of six years ago, when these tabloids meant an even sweep
+of thought, lucidity of brain, a balance of judgment in thought and
+effort--were days of the past. As he had said of Lexington and his vice,
+the slave had become master.
+
+As he folded the paper in a last attempt at interest, the door opened
+and his secretary came a step or two into the room.
+
+"Good-morning, sir!" he said. "Forgive me for being so untimely."
+
+He was a fresh-mannered, bright-eyed boy of twenty-three. His breezy
+alertness, his deference, as to a man who had attained what he aspired
+to, amused and depressed Chilcote by turns.
+
+"Good-morning, Blessington. What is it now?" He sighed through habit,
+and, putting up his hand, warded off a ray of sun that had forced itself
+through the misty atmosphere as if by mistake.
+
+The boy smiled. "It's that business of the Wark timber contract, sir,"
+he said. "You promised you'd look into it to-day; you know you've
+shelved it for a week already, and Craig, Burnage are rather clamoring
+for an answer." He moved forward and laid the papers he was carrying on
+the table beside Chilcote. "I'm sorry to be such a nuisance," he added.
+"I hope your nerves aren't worrying you to-day?"
+
+Chilcote was toying with the papers. At the word nerves he glanced up
+suspiciously. But Blessington's ingenuous face satisfied him.
+
+"No," he said. "I settled my nerves last night with--with a bromide. I
+knew that fog would upset me unless I took precautions."
+
+"I'm glad of that, sir--though I'd avoid bromides. Bad habit to set up.
+But this Wark business--I'd like to get it under way, if you have no
+objection."
+
+Chilcote passed his fingers over the papers. "Were you out in that fog
+last night, Blessington?"
+
+"No, sir. I supped with some people at the Savoy, and we just missed it.
+It was very partial, I believe."
+
+"So I believe."
+
+Blessington put his hand to his neat tie and pulled it. He was extremely
+polite, but he had an inordinate sense of duty.
+
+"Forgive me, sir," he said, "but about that contract--I know I'm a
+frightful bore."
+
+"Oh, the contract!" Chilcote looked about him absently. "By-the-way, did
+you see anything of my wife yesterday? What did she do last night?"
+
+"Mrs. Chilcote gave me tea yesterday afternoon. She told me she was
+dining at Lady Sabinet's, and looking in at one or two places later." He
+eyed his papers in Chilcote's listless hand.
+
+Chilcote smiled satirically. "Eve is very true to society," he said. "I
+couldn't dine at the Sabinets' if it was to make me premier. They have
+a butler who is an institution--a sort of heirloom in the family. He is
+fat, and breathes audibly. Last time I lunched there he haunted me for a
+whole night."
+
+Blessington laughed gayly. "Mrs. Chilcote doesn't see ghosts, sir," he
+said; "but if I may suggest--"
+
+Chilcote tapped his fingers on the table.
+
+"No. Eve doesn't see ghosts. We rather miss sympathy there."
+
+Blessington governed his impatience. He stood still for some seconds,
+then glanced down at his pointed boot.
+
+"If you will be lenient to my persistency, sir, I would like to remind
+you--"
+
+Chilcote lifted his head with a flash of irritability.
+
+"Confound it, Blessington!" he exclaimed. "Am I never to be left in
+peace? Am I never to sit down to a meal without having work thrust upon
+me? Work--work--perpetually work? I have heard no other word in the last
+six years. I declare there are times"--he rose suddenly from his seat
+and turned to the window--"there are times when I feel that for sixpence
+I'd chuck it all--the whole beastly round--"
+
+Startled by his vehemence, Blessington wheeled towards him.
+
+"Not your political career, sir?"
+
+There was a moment in which Chilcote hesitated, a moment in which the
+desire that had filled his mind for months rose to his lips and hung
+there; then the question, the incredulity in Blessington's face, chilled
+it and it fell back into silence.
+
+"I--I didn't say that," he murmured. "You young men jump to conclusions,
+Blessington."
+
+"Forgive me, sir. I never meant to imply retirement. Why, Rickshaw,
+Vale, Cressham, and the whole Wark crowd would be about your ears like
+flies if such a thing were even breathed--now more than ever, since
+these Persian rumors. By-the-way, is there anything real in this border
+business? The 'St. George's' came out rather strong last night."
+
+Chilcote had moved back to the table. His face was pale from his
+outburst and his fingers toyed restlessly with the open newspaper.
+
+"I haven't seen the 'St. George's'," he said, hastily. "Lakely is always
+ready to shake the red rag where Russia is concerned; whether we are
+to enter the arena is another matter. But what about Craig, Burnage? I
+think you mentioned something of a contract."
+
+"Oh, don't worry about that, sir." Blessington had caught the twitching
+at the corners of Chilcote's mouth, the nervous sharpness of his voice.
+"I can put Craig, Burnage off. If they have an answer by Thursday it
+will be time enough." He began to collect his papers, but Chilcote
+stopped him.
+
+"Wait," he said, veering suddenly. "Wait. I'll see to it now. I'll feel
+more myself when I've done something. I'll come with you to the study."
+
+He walked hastily across the room; then, with his hand on the door, he
+paused.
+
+"You go first, Blessington," he said. "I'll--I'll follow you in ten
+minutes. I must glance through the newspapers first."
+
+Blessington looked uncertain. "You won't forget, sir?"
+
+"Forget? Of course not."
+
+Still doubtfully, Blessington left the room and closed the door.
+
+Once alone, Chilcote walked slowly back to the table, drew up his chair,
+and sat down with his eyes on the white cloth, the paper lying unheeded
+beside him.
+
+Time passed. A servant came into the room to remove the breakfast.
+Chilcote moved slightly when necessary, but otherwise retained his
+attitude. The servant, having finished his task, replenished the fire
+and left the room. Chilcote still sat on.
+
+At last, feeling numbed, he rose and crossed to the fireplace. The clock
+on the mantel-piece stared him in the face. He looked at it, started
+slightly, then drew out his watch. Watch and clock corresponded. Each
+marked twelve o'clock. With a nervous motion he leaned forward and
+pressed the electric bell long and hard.
+
+Instantly a servant answered.
+
+"Is Mr. Blessington in the study?" Chilcote asked.
+
+"He was there, sir, five minutes back."
+
+Chilcote looked relieved.
+
+"All right! Tell him I have gone out--had to go out. Something
+important. You understand?"
+
+"I understand, sir."
+
+But before the words had been properly spoken Chilcote had passed the
+man and walked into the hall.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Leaving his house, Chilcote walked forward quickly and aimlessly. With
+the sting of the outer air the recollection of last night's adventure
+came back upon him. Since the hour of his waking it had hung about with
+vague persistence, but now in the clear light of day it seemed to stand
+out with a fuller peculiarity.
+
+The thing was preposterous, nevertheless it was genuine. He was wearing
+the overcoat he had worn, the night before, and, acting on impulse, he
+thrust his hand into the pocket and drew out the stranger's card.
+
+"Mr. John Loder!" He read the name over as he walked along, and it
+mechanically repeated itself in his brain--falling into measure with
+his steps. Who was John Loder? What was he? The questions tantalized
+him till his pace unconsciously increased. The thought that two men so
+absurdly alike could inhabit the same, city and remain unknown to each
+other faced him as a problem: it tangled with his personal worries
+and aggravated them. There seemed to be almost a danger in such an
+extraordinary likeness. He began to regret his impetuosity in thrusting
+his card upon the man. Then, again, how he had let himself go on the
+subject of Lexington! How narrowly he had escaped compromise! He turned
+hot and cold at the recollection of what he had said and what he might
+have said. Then for the first time he paused in his walk and looked
+about him.
+
+On leaving Grosvenor Square he had turned westward, moving rapidly till
+the Marble Arch was reached; there, still oblivious to his surroundings,
+he had crossed the roadway to the Edgware Road, passing along it to
+the labyrinth of shabby streets that lie behind Paddington. Now, as he
+glanced about him, he saw with some surprise how far he had come.
+
+The damp remnants of the fog still hung about the house-tops in a filmy
+veil; there were no glimpses of green to break the monotony of tone; all
+was quiet, dingy, neglected. But to Chilcote the shabbiness was restful,
+the subdued atmosphere a satisfaction. Among these sad houses, these
+passers-by, each filled with his own concerns, he experienced a sense
+of respite and relief. In the fashionable streets that bounded his own
+horizon, if a man paused in his walk to work out an idea he instantly
+drew a crowd of inquisitive or contemptuous eyes; here, if a man halted
+for half an hour it was nobody's business but his own.
+
+Enjoying this thought, he wandered on for close upon an hour, moving
+from one street to another with steps that were listless or rapid, as
+inclination prompted; then, still acting with vagrant aimlessness, he
+stopped in his wanderings and entered a small eating-house.
+
+The place was low-ceiled and dirty, the air hot and steaming with the
+smell of food, but Chilcote passed through the door and moved to one
+of the tables with no expression of disgust, and with far less furtive
+watchfulness than he used in his own house. By a curious mental twist he
+felt greater freedom, larger opportunities in drab surroundings such as
+these than in the broad issues and weighty responsibilities of his own
+life. Choosing a corner seat, he called for coffee; and there, protected
+by shadow and wrapped in cigarette smoke, he set about imagining himself
+some vagrant unit who had slipped his moorings and was blissfully
+adrift.
+
+The imagination was pleasant while it lasted, but with him nothing was
+permanent. Of late the greater part of his sufferings had been comprised
+in the irritable fickleness of all his aims--the distaste for and
+impossibility of sustained effort in any direction. He had barely
+lighted a second cigarette when the old restlessness fell upon him; he
+stirred nervously in his seat, and the cigarette was scarcely burned out
+when he rose, paid his small bill, and left the shop.
+
+Outside on the pavement he halted, pulled out his watch, and saw
+that two hours stretched in front before any appointment claimed his
+attention. He wondered vaguely where he might go to--what he might do
+in those two hours? In the last few minutes a distaste for solitude had
+risen in his mind, giving the close street a loneliness that had escaped
+him before.
+
+As he stood wavering a cab passed slowly down the street. The sight of
+a well-dressed man roused the cabman; flicking his whip, he passed
+Chilcote close, feigning to pull up.
+
+The cab suggested civilization. Chilcote's mind veered suddenly and he
+raised his hand. The vehicle stopped and he climbed in.
+
+"Where, sir?" The cabman peered down through the roof-door.
+
+Chilcote raised his head. "Oh, anywhere near Pall Mall," he said.
+Then, as the horse started forward, he put up his hand and shook the
+trap-door. "Wait!" he called. "I've changed my mind. Drive to Cadogan
+Gardens--No. 33."
+
+The distance to Cadogan Gardens was covered quickly. Chilcote had
+hardly realized that his destination was reached when the cab pulled up.
+Jumping out, he paid the fare and walked quickly to the hall-door of No.
+33.
+
+"Is Lady Astrupp at home?" he asked, sharply, as the door swung back in
+answer to his knock.
+
+The servant drew back deferentially. "Her ladyship has almost finished
+lunch, sir," he said.
+
+For answer Chilcote stepped through the door-way and walked half-way
+across the hall.
+
+"All right," he said. "But don't disturb her on my account. I'll wait
+in the white room till she has finished." And, without taking further
+notice of the servant, he began to mount the stairs.
+
+In the room where he had chosen to wait a pleasant wood-fire brightened
+the dull January afternoon and softened the thick, white curtains, the
+gilt furniture, and the Venetian vases filled with white roses. Moving
+straight forward, Chilcote paused by the grate and stretched his hands
+to the blaze; then, with his usual instability, he turned and passed to
+a couch that stood a yard or two away.
+
+On the couch, tucked away between a novel and a crystal gazing-ball,
+was a white Persian kitten, fast asleep. Chilcote picked up the ball and
+held it between his eyes and the fire; then he laughed superciliously,
+tossed it back into its place, and caught the kitten's tail. The little
+animal stirred, stretched itself, and began to purr. At the same moment
+the door of the room opened.
+
+Chilcote turned round. "I particularly said you were not to be
+disturbed," he began. "Have I merited displeasure?" He spoke fast, with
+the uneasy tone that so often underran his words.
+
+Lady Astrupp took his hand with a confiding gesture and smiled.
+
+"Never displeasure," she said, lingeringly, and again she smiled. The
+smile might have struck a close observer as faintly, artificial. But
+what man in Chilcote's frame of mind has time to be observant where
+women are concerned? The manner of the smile was very sweet and almost
+caressing--and that sufficed.
+
+"What have you been doing?" she asked, after a moment. "I thought I was
+quite forgotten." She moved across to the couch, picked up the kitten,
+and kissed it. "Isn't this sweet?" she added.
+
+She looked very graceful as she turned, holding the little animal up.
+She was a woman of twenty-seven, but she looked a girl. The outline of
+her face was pure, the pale gold of her hair almost ethereal, and her
+tall, slight figure still suggested the suppleness, the possibility of
+future development, that belongs to youth. She wore a lace-colored gown
+that harmonized with the room and with the delicacy of her skin.
+
+"Now sit down and rest--or walk about the room. I sha'n't mind which."
+She nestled into the couch and picked up the crystal ball.
+
+"What is the toy for?" Chilcote looked at her from the mantel-piece,
+against which he was resting. He had never defined the precise
+attraction that Lillian Astrupp held for him. Her shallowness soothed
+him; her inconsequent egotism helped him to forget himself. She never
+asked him how he was, she never expected impossibilities. She let him
+come and go and act as he pleased, never demanding reasons. Like the
+kitten, she was charming and graceful and easily amused; it was possible
+that, also like the kitten, she could scratch and be spiteful on
+occasion, but that did not weigh with him. He sometimes expressed
+a vague envy of the late Lord Astrupp; but, even had circumstances
+permitted, it is doubtful whether he would have chosen to be his
+successor. Lillian as a friend was delightful, but Lillian as a wife
+would have been a different consideration.
+
+"What is the toy for?" he asked again.
+
+She looked up slowly. "How cruel of you, Jack! It is my very latest
+hobby."
+
+It was part of her attraction that she was never without a craze. Each
+new one was as fleeting as the last, but to each she brought the same
+delightfully insincere enthusiasm, the same picturesque devotion. Each
+was a pose, but she posed so sweetly that nobody lost patience.
+
+"You mustn't laugh!" she protested, letting the kitten slip to the
+ground. "I've had lessons at five guineas each from the most fascinating
+person--a professional; and I'm becoming quite an adept. Of course
+I haven't been much beyond the milky appearance yet, but the milky
+appearance is everything, you know; the rest will come. I am trying to
+persuade Blanche to let me have a pavilion at her party in March, and
+gaze for all you dull political people." Again she smiled.
+
+Chilcote smiled as well. "How is it done?" he asked, momentarily amused.
+
+"Oh, the doing is quite delicious. You sit at a table with the ball in
+front of you; then you take the subject's hands, spread them out on the
+table, and stroke them very softly while you gaze into the crystal; that
+gets up the sympathy, you know." She looked up innocently. "Shall I show
+you?"
+
+Chilcote moved a small table nearer to the couch and spread his hands
+upon it, palms downward. "Like this, eh?" he said. Then a ridiculous
+nervousness seized him and he moved away. "Some other day," he said,
+quickly. "You can show me some other day. I'm not very fit this
+afternoon."
+
+If Lillian felt any disappointment, she showed none. "Poor old thing!"
+she said, softly. "Try to sit here by me and we won't bother about
+anything." She made a place for him beside her, and as he dropped into
+it she took his hand and patted it sympathetically.
+
+The touch was soothing, and he bore it patiently enough. After a moment
+she lifted the hand with a little exclamation of reproof.
+
+"You degenerate person! You have ceased to manicure. What has become of
+my excellent training?"
+
+Chilcote laughed. "Run to seed," he said, lightly. Then his expression
+and tone changed. "When a man gets to my age," he added, "little social
+luxuries don't seem worth while; the social necessities are irksome
+enough. Personally, I envy the beggar in the street--exempt from
+shaving, exempt from washing--"
+
+Lillian raised her delicate eyebrows. The sentiment was beyond her
+perception.
+
+"But manicuring," she said, reproachfully, "when you have such nice
+hands. It was your hands and your eyes, you know, that first appealed to
+me." She sighed gently, with a touch of sentimental remembrance. "And
+I thought it so strong of you not to wear rings--it must be such a
+temptation." She looked down at her own fingers, glittering with jewels.
+
+But the momentary pleasure of her touch was gone. Chilcote drew away his
+hand and picked up the book that lay between them.
+
+"Other Men's Shoes!" he read. "A novel, of course?"
+
+She smiled. "Of course. Such a fantastic story. Two men changing
+identities."
+
+Chilcote rose and walked back to the mantel-piece.
+
+"Changing identities?" he said, with a touch of interest.
+
+"Yes. One man is an artist, the other a millionaire; one wants to know
+what fame is like, the other wants to know how it feels to be really
+sinfully rich. So they exchange experiences for a month." She laughed.
+
+Chilcote laughed as well. "But how?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I told you the idea was absurd. Fancy two people so much alike
+that neither their friends nor their servants see any difference! Such a
+thing couldn't be, could it?"
+
+Chilcote looked down at the fire. "No," he said, doubtfully. "No. I
+suppose not."
+
+"Of course not. There are likenesses, but not freak likenesses like
+that."
+
+Chilcote's head was bent as she spoke, but at the last words he lifted
+it.
+
+"By Jove! I don't know about that!" he said. "Not so very long ago I saw
+two men so much alike that I--I--" He stopped.
+
+Lillian smiled.
+
+He colored quickly. "You doubt me?" he asked.
+
+"My dear Jack!" Her voice was delicately reproachful.
+
+"Then you think that my--my imagination has been playing me tricks?"
+
+"My dear boy! Nothing of the kind. Come back to your place and tell me
+the whole tale?" She smiled again, and patted the couch invitingly.
+
+But Chilcote's balance had been upset. For the first time he saw Lillian
+as one of the watchful, suspecting crowd before which he was constantly
+on guard. Acting on the sensation, he moved suddenly towards the door.
+
+"I--I have an appointment at the House," he said, quickly. "I'll look in
+another day when--when I'm better company. I know I'm a bear to-day. My
+nerves, you know." He came back to the couch and took her hand; then he
+touched her cheek for an instant with his fingers.
+
+"Good-bye," he said. "Take care of yourself--and the kitten," he added,
+with forced gayety, as he crossed the room.
+
+
+That afternoon Chilcote's nervous condition reached its height. All day
+he had avoided the climax, but no evasion can be eternal, and this he
+realized as he sat in his place on the Opposition benches during the
+half-hour of wintry twilight that precedes the turning-on of the lights.
+He realized it in that half-hour, but the application of the knowledge
+followed later, when the time came for him to question the government
+on some point relating to a proposed additional dry-dock at Talkley, the
+naval base. Then for the first time he knew that the sufferings of
+the past months could have a visible as well as a hidden side--could
+disorganize his daily routine as they had already demoralized his will
+and character.
+
+The thing came upon him with extraordinary lack of preparation. He sat
+through the twilight with tolerable calm, his nervousness showing only
+in the occasional lifting of his hand to his collar and the frequent
+changing of his position; but when the lights were turned on, and he
+leaned back in his seat with closed eyes, he became conscious of a
+curious impression--a disturbing idea that through his closed lids he
+could see the faces on the opposite side of the House, see the rows of
+eyes, sleepy, interested, or vigilant. Never before had the
+sensation presented itself, but, once set up, it ran through all his
+susceptibilities. By an absurd freak of fancy those varying eyes seemed
+to pierce through his lids, almost through his eyeballs. The cold
+perspiration that was his daily horror broke out on his forehead; and at
+the same moment Fraide, his leader, turned, leaned over the back of his
+seat, and touched his knee.
+
+Chilcote started and opened his eyes. "I--I believe I was dozing," he
+said, confusedly.
+
+Fraide smiled his dry, kindly smile. "A fatal admission for a member of
+the Opposition," he said. "But I was looking for you earlier in the day,
+Chilcote. There is something behind this Persian affair. I believe it to
+be a mere first move on Russia's part. You big trading people will find
+it worth watching."
+
+Chilcote shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, I don't know," he said. "I
+scarcely believe in it. Lakely put a match to the powder in the 'St.
+George's', but 'twill only be a noise and a puff of smoke."
+
+But Fraide did not smile. "What is the feeling down at Wark?" he asked.
+"Has it awakened any interest?"
+
+"At Wark? Oh, I--I don't quite know. I have been a little out of touch
+with Wark in the last few weeks. A man has so many private affairs to
+look to--" He was uneasy under his chief's scrutiny.
+
+Fraide's lips parted as if to make reply, but with a certain dignified
+reticence he closed them again and turned away.
+
+Chilcote leaned back in his place and furtively passed his hand over his
+forehead. His mind was possessed by one consideration--the consideration
+of himself. He glanced down the crowded, lighted House to the big
+glass doors; he glanced about him at his colleagues, indifferent
+or interested; then surreptitiously his fingers strayed to his
+waistcoat-pocket.
+
+Usually he carried his morphia tabloids with him, but to-day by a
+lapse of memory he had left them at home. He knew this, nevertheless he
+continued to search, while the need of the drug rushed through him with
+a sense of physical sickness. He lost hold on the business of the House;
+unconsciously he half rose from his seat.
+
+The man next him looked up. "Hold your ground, Chilcote," he said.
+"Rayforth is drying up."
+
+With a wave of relief Chilcote dropped back into his place. Whatever the
+confusion in his mind, it was evidently not obvious in his face.
+
+Rayforth resumed his seat, there was the usual slight stir and pause,
+then Salett, the member for Salchester, rose.
+
+With Salett's first words Chilcote's hand again sought his pocket, and
+again his eyes strayed towards the doors, but Fraide's erect head and
+stiff back just in front of him held him quiet. With an effort he pulled
+out his notes and smoothed them nervously; but though his gaze was fixed
+on the pages, not a line of Blessington's clear writing reached his
+mind. He glanced at the face of the Speaker, then at the faces on the
+Treasury Bench, then once more he leaned back in his seat.
+
+The man beside him saw the movement. "Funking the drydock?" he
+whispered, jestingly.
+
+"No"--Chilcote turned to him suddenly--"but I feel beastly--have felt
+beastly for weeks."
+
+The other looked at him more closely. "Anything wrong?" he asked. It was
+a novel experience to be confided in by Chilcote.
+
+"Oh, it's the grind-the infernal grind." As he said it, it seemed to
+him suddenly that his strength gave way. He forgot his companion, his
+position, everything except the urgent instinct that filled mind and
+body. Scarcely knowing what he did, he rose and leaned forward to
+whisper in Fraide's ear.
+
+Fraide was seen to turn, his thin face interested and concerned, then
+he was seen to nod once or twice in acquiescence, and a moment later
+Chilcote stepped quietly out of his place.
+
+One or two men spoke to him as he hurried from the House, but he shook
+them off almost uncivilly, and, making for the nearest exit, hailed a
+cab.
+
+The drive to Grosvenor Square was a misery. Time after time he changed
+from one corner of the cab to the other, his acute internal pains
+prolonged by every delay and increased by every motion. At last, weak in
+all his limbs, he stepped from the vehicle at his own door.
+
+Entering the house, he instantly mounted the stairs and passed to his
+own rooms. Opening the bedroom door, he peered in cautiously, then
+pushed the door wide. The light had been switched on, but the room
+was empty. With a nervous excitement scarcely to be kept in check, he
+entered, shut and locked the door, then moved to the wardrobe, and,
+opening it, drew the tube of tabloids from the shelf.
+
+His hand shook violently as he carried the tube to the table. The strain
+of the day, the anxiety of the past hours, with their final failure,
+had found sudden expression. Mixing a larger dose than any he had before
+allowed himself, he swallowed it hastily, and, walking across the room,
+threw himself, fully dressed, upon the bed.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+To those whose sphere lies in the west of London, Fleet Street is little
+more than a name, and Clifford's Inn a mere dead letter. Yet Clifford's
+Inn lies as safely stowed away in the shadow of the Law Courts as any
+grave under a country church wall; it is as green of grass, as gray of
+stone, as irresponsive to the passing footstep.
+
+Facing the railed-in grass-plot of its little court stood the house in
+which John Loder had his rooms. Taken at a first glance, the house had
+the deserted air of an office, inhabited only in the early hours; but,
+as night fell, lights would be seen to show out, first on one floor,
+then on another--faint, human beacons unconsciously signalling each
+other. The rooms Loder inhabited were on the highest floor; and
+from their windows one might gaze philosophically on the tree-tops,
+forgetting the uneven pavement and the worn railing that hemmed them
+round. In the landing outside the rooms his name appeared above his
+door, but the paint had been soiled by time, and the letters for the
+most part reduced to shadows; so that, taken in conjunction with the
+gaunt staircase and bare walls, the place had a cheerless look.
+
+Inside, however, the effect was somewhat mitigated. The room on the
+right hand, as one entered the small passage that served as hall, was of
+fair size, though low-ceiled. The paint of the wall-panelling, like
+the name above the outer door, had long ago been worn to a dirty and
+nondescript hue, and the floor was innocent of carpet; yet in the middle
+of the room stood a fine old Cromwell table, and on the plain
+deal book-shelves and along the mantel-piece were some valuable
+books--political and historical. There were no curtains on the windows,
+and a common reading-lamp with a green shade stood on a desk. It was the
+room of a man with few hobbies and no pleasures--who existed because he
+was alive, and worked because he must.
+
+Three nights after the great fog John Loder sat by his desk in the light
+of the green-shaded lamp. The remains of a very frugal supper stood on
+the centre-table, and in the grate a small and economical-looking fire
+was burning.
+
+Having written for close on two hours, he pushed back his chair and
+stretched his cramped fingers; then he yawned, rose, and slowly walked
+across the room. Reaching the mantel-piece, he took a pipe from the
+pipe-rack and some tobacco from the jar that stood behind the books.
+His face looked tired and a little worn, as is common with men who have
+worked long at an uncongenial task. Shredding the tobacco between his
+hands, he slowly filled the pipe, then lighted it from the fire with a
+spill of twisted paper.
+
+Almost at the moment that he applied the light the sound of steps
+mounting the uncarpeted stairs outside caught his attention, and he
+raised his head to listen.
+
+Presently the steps halted and he heard a match struck. The stranger
+was evidently uncertain of his whereabouts. Then the steps moved forward
+again and paused.
+
+An expression of surprise crossed Loder's face, and he laid down his
+pipe. As the visitor knocked, he walked quietly across the room and
+opened the door.
+
+The passage outside was dark, and the new-comer drew back before the
+light from the room.
+
+"Mr. Loder--?" he began, interrogatively. Then all at once he laughed
+in embarrassed apology. "Forgive me," he said. "The light rather dazzled
+me. I didn't realize who it was."
+
+Loder recognized the voice as belonging to his acquaintance of the fog.
+
+"Oh, it's you!" he said. "Won't you come in?" His voice was a little
+cold. This sudden resurrection left him surprised--and not quite
+pleasantly surprised. He walked back to the fireplace, followed by his
+guest.
+
+The guest seemed nervous and agitated. "I must apologize for the hour of
+my visit," he said. "My--my time is not quite my own."
+
+Loder waved his hand. "Whose time is his own?" he said.
+
+Chilcote, encouraged by the remark, drew nearer to the fire. Until this
+moment he had refrained from looking directly at his host; now,
+however, he raised his eyes, and, despite his preparation, he recoiled
+unavoidably before the extraordinary resemblance. Seen here, in the
+casual surroundings of a badly furnished and crudely lighted room, it
+was even more astounding than it had been in the mystery of the fog.
+
+"Forgive me," he said again. "It is physical--purely physical. I am
+bowled over against my will."
+
+Loder smiled. The slight contempt that Chilcote had first inspired rose
+again, and with it a second feeling less easily defined. The man seemed
+so unstable, so incapable, yet so grotesquely suggestive to himself.
+
+"The likeness is rather overwhelming," he said; "but not heavy enough
+to sink under. Come nearer the fire. What brought you here? Curiosity?"
+There was a wooden arm-chair by the fireplace. He indicated it with a
+wave of the hand; then turned and took up his smouldering pipe.
+
+Chilcote, watching him furtively, obeyed the gesture and sat down.
+
+"It is extraordinary!" he said, as if unable to dismiss the subject.
+"It--it is quite extraordinary!"
+
+The other glanced round. "Let's drop it," he said. "It's so confoundedly
+obvious." Then his tone changed. "Won't you smoke?" he asked.
+
+"Thanks." Chilcote began to fumble for his cigarettes.
+
+But his host forestalled him. Taking a box from the mantel-piece, he
+held it out.
+
+"My one extravagance!" he said, ironically. "My resources bind me to
+one; and I think I have made a wise selection. It is about the only vice
+we haven't to pay for six times over." He glanced sharply at the face so
+absurdly like his own, then, lighting a fresh spill, offered his guest a
+light.
+
+Chilcote moistened his cigarette and leaned forward. In the flare of the
+paper his face looked set and anxious, but Loder saw that the lips did
+not twitch as they had done on the previous occasion that he had given
+him a light, and a look of comprehension crossed his eyes.
+
+"What will you drink? Or, rather, will you have a whiskey? I keep
+nothing else. Hospitality is one of the debarred luxuries."
+
+Chilcote shook his head. "I seldom drink. But don't let that deter you."
+
+Loder smiled. "I have one drink in the twenty-four hours--generally at
+two o'clock, when my night's work is done. A solitary man has to look
+where he is going."
+
+"You work till two?"
+
+"Two--or three."
+
+Chilcote's eyes wandered to the desk. "You write?" he asked.
+
+The other nodded curtly.
+
+"Books?" Chilcote's tone was anxious.
+
+Loder laughed, and the bitter note showed in his voice.
+
+"No--not books," he said.
+
+Chilcote leaned back in his chair and passed his hand across his face.
+The strong wave of satisfaction that the words woke in him was difficult
+to conceal.
+
+"What is your work?"
+
+Loder turned aside. "You must not ask that," he said, shortly. "When a
+man has only one capacity, and the capacity has no outlet, he is apt to
+run to seed in a wrong direction. I cultivate weeds--at abominable labor
+and a very small reward." He stood with his back to the fire, facing
+his visitor; his attitude was a curious blending of pride, defiance, and
+despondency.
+
+Chilcote leaned forward again. "Why speak of yourself like that? You are
+a man of intelligence and education." He spoke questioningly, anxiously.
+
+"Intelligence and education!" Loder laughed shortly. "London is cemented
+with intelligence. And education! What is education? The court dress
+necessary to presentation, the wig and gown necessary to the barrister.
+But do the wig and gown necessarily mean briefs? Or the court dress
+royal favor? Education is the accessory; it is influence that is
+essential. You should know that."
+
+Chilcote moved restlessly in his seat. "You talk bitterly," he said.
+
+The other looked up. "I think bitterly, which is worse. I am one of
+the unlucky beggars who, in the expectation of money, has been denied
+a profession--even a trade, to which to cling in time of shipwreck; and
+who, when disaster comes, drift out to sea. I warned you the other night
+to steer clear of me. I come under the head of flotsam!"
+
+Chilcote's face lighted. "You came a cropper?" he asked.
+
+"No. It was some one else who came the cropper--I only dealt in
+results."
+
+"Big results?"
+
+"A drop from a probable eighty thousand pounds to a certain eight
+hundred."
+
+Chilcote glanced up. "How did you take it?" he asked.
+
+"I? Oh, I was twenty-five then. I had a good many hopes and a lot of
+pride; but there is no place for either in a working world."
+
+"But your people?"
+
+"My last relation died with the fortune."
+
+"Your friends?"
+
+Loder laid down his pipe. "I told you I was twenty-five," he said, with
+the tinge of humor that sometimes crossed his manner. "Doesn't that
+explain things? I had never taken favors in prosperity; a change
+of fortune was not likely to alter my ways. As I have said, I was
+twenty-five." He smiled. "When I realized my position I sold all my
+belongings with the exception of a table and a few books--which I
+stored. I put on a walking-suit and let my beard grow; then, with my
+entire capital in my pocket, I left England without saying good-bye to
+any one."
+
+"For how long?"
+
+"Oh, for six years. I wandered half over Europe and through a good part
+of Asia in the time."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then? Oh, I shaved off the beard and came back to London!" He looked at
+Chilcote, partly contemptuous, partly amused at his curiosity.
+
+But Chilcote sat staring in silence. The domination of the other's
+personality and the futility of his achievements baffled him.
+
+Loder saw his bewilderment. "You wonder what the devil I came into the
+world for," he said. "I sometimes wonder the same myself."
+
+At his words a change passed over Chilcote. He half rose, then dropped
+back into his seat.
+
+"You have no friends?" he said. "Your life is worth nothing to you?"
+
+Loder raised his head. "I thought I had conveyed that impression."
+
+"You are an absolutely free man."
+
+"No man is free who works for his bread. If things had been different
+I might have been in such shoes as yours, sauntering in legislative
+byways; my hopes turned that way once. But hopes, like more substantial
+things, belong to the past--" He stopped abruptly and looked at his
+companion.
+
+The change in Chilcote had become more acute; he sat fingering his
+cigarette, his brows drawn down, his lips set nervously in a conflict of
+emotions. For a space he stayed very still, avoiding Loder's eyes; then,
+as if decision had suddenly come to him, he turned and met his gaze.
+
+"How if there was a future," he said, "as well as a past?"
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+For the space of a minute there was silence in the room, then outside
+in the still night three clocks simultaneously chimed eleven, and their
+announcement was taken up and echoed by half a dozen others, loud and
+faint, hoarse and resonant; for all through the hours of darkness the
+neighborhood of Fleet Street is alive with chimes.
+
+Chilcote, startled by the jangle, rose from his seat; then, as if driven
+by an uncontrollable impulse, he spoke again.
+
+"You probably think I am mad--" he began.
+
+Loder took his pipe out of his mouth. "I am not so presumptuous," he
+said, quietly.
+
+For a space the other eyed him silently, as if trying to gauge his
+thoughts; then once more he broke into speech.
+
+"Look here," he said. "I came to-night to make a proposition. When I
+have made it you'll first of all jeer at it--as I jeered when I made
+it to myself; then you'll see its possibilities--as I did; then,"--he
+paused and glanced round the room nervously--"then you'll accept it--as
+I did." In the uneasy haste of his speech his words broke off almost
+unintelligibly.
+
+Involuntarily Loder lifted his head to retort, but Chilcote put up his
+hand. His face was set with the obstinate determination that weak men
+sometime exhibit.
+
+"Before I begin I want to say that I am not drunk--that I am neither mad
+nor drunk." He looked fully at his companion with his restless glance.
+"I am quite sane--quite reasonable."
+
+Again Loder essayed to speak, but again he put up his hand.
+
+"No. Hear me out. You told me something of your story. I'll tell you
+something of mine. You'll be the first person, man or woman, that I have
+confided in for ten years. You say you have been treated shabbily. I
+have treated myself shabbily--which is harder to reconcile. I had every
+chance--and I chucked every chance away."
+
+There was a strained pause, then again Loder lifted his head.
+
+"Morphia?" he said, very quietly.
+
+Chilcote wheeled round with a scared gesture. "How did you know that?"
+he asked, sharply.
+
+The other smiled. "It wasn't guessing--it wasn't even deduction. You
+told me, or as good as told me, in the fog--when we talked of
+Lexington. You were unstrung that night, and I--Well, perhaps one gets
+over-observant from living alone." He smiled again.
+
+Chilcote collapsed into his former seat and passed his handkerchief
+across his forehead.
+
+Loder watched him for a space; then he spoke. "Why don't you pull up?"
+he said. "You are a young man still. Why don't you drop the thing before
+it gets too late?" His face was unsympathetic, and below the question in
+his voice lay a note of hard ness.
+
+Chilcote returned his glance. The suggestion of reproof had accentuated
+his pallor. Under his excitement he looked ill and worn.
+
+"You might talk till doomsday, but every word would be wasted," he said,
+irritably. "I'm past praying for, by something like six years."
+
+"Then why come here?" Loder was pulling hard on his pipe. "I'm not a
+dealer in sympathy."
+
+"I don't require sympathy." Chilcote rose again. He was still agitated,
+but the agitation was quieter. "I want a much more expensive thing than
+sympathy--and I am willing to pay for it."
+
+The other turned and looked at him. "I have no possession in the world
+that would be worth a fiver to you," he said, coldly. "You're either
+under a delusion or you're wasting my time."
+
+Chilcote laughed nervously. "Wait," he said. "Wait. I only ask you to
+wait. First let me sketch you my position--it won't take many words:
+
+"My grandfather was a Chilcote of Westmoreland; he was one of the first
+of his day and his class to recognize that there was a future in trade,
+so, breaking his own little twig from the family tree, he went south to
+Wark and entered a ship-owning firm. In thirty years' time he died,
+the owner of one of the biggest trades in England, having married the
+daughter of his chief. My father was twenty-four and still at Oxford
+when he inherited. Almost his first act was to reverse my grandfather's
+early move by going north and piecing together the family friendship. He
+married his first cousin; and then, with the Chilcote prestige revived
+and the shipping money to back it, he entered on his ambition, which was
+to represent East Wark in the Conservative interest. It was a big fight,
+but he won--as much by personal influence as by any other. He was an
+aristocrat, but he was a keen business-man as well. The combination
+carries weight with your lower classes. He never did much in the House,
+but he was a power to his party in Wark. They still use his name there
+to conjure with."
+
+Loder leaned forward interestedly.
+
+"Robert Chilcote?" he said. "I have heard of him. One of those fine,
+unostentatious figures--strong in action, a little narrow in outlook,
+perhaps, but essential to a country's staying power. You have every
+reason to be proud of your father."
+
+Chilcote laughed suddenly. "How easily we sum up, when a matter is
+impersonal! My father may have been a fine figure, but he shouldn't have
+left me to climb to his pedestal."
+
+Loder's eyes questioned. In his newly awakened interest he had let his
+pipe go out.
+
+"Don't you grasp my meaning?" Chilcote went on. "My father died and I
+was elected for East Wark. You may say that if I had no real inclination
+for the position I could have kicked. But I tell you I couldn't. Every
+local interest, political and commercial, hung upon the candidate being
+a Chilcote. I did what eight men out of ten would have done. I yielded
+to pressure."
+
+"It was a fine opening!" The words escaped Loder.
+
+"Most prisons have wide gates!" Chilcote laughed again unpleasantly.
+"That was six years ago. I had started on the morphia tack four years
+earlier, but up to my father's death I had it under my thumb--or
+believed I had; and in the realization of my new responsibilities and
+the excitement of the political fight I almost put it aside. For several
+months after I entered Parliament I worked. I believe I made one
+speech that marked me as a coming man." He laughed derisively. "I even
+married--"
+
+"Married?"
+
+"Yes. A girl of nineteen--the ward of a great statesman. It was a
+brilliant marriage--politically as well as socially. But it didn't work.
+I was born without the capacity for love. First the social life palled
+on me; then my work grew irksome. There was only one factor to make
+life endurable--morphia. Before six months were out I had fully admitted
+that."
+
+"But your wife?"
+
+"Oh, my wife knew nothing--knows nothing. It is the political business,
+the beastly routine of the political life, that is wearing me out." He
+stopped nervously, then hurried on, again. "I tell you it's hell to see
+the same faces, to sit in the same seat day in, day out, knowing all
+the time that you must hold yourself in hand, must keep your grip on the
+reins--"
+
+"It is always possible to apply for the Chiltern Hundreds."
+
+"To retire? Possible to retire?" Chilcote broke into a loud, sarcastic
+laugh. "You don't know what the local pressure of a place like Wark
+stands for. Twenty times I have been within an ace of chucking the whole
+thing. Once last year I wrote privately to Vale, one of our big men
+there, and hinted that my health was bad. Two hours after he had read my
+letter he was in my study. Had I been in Greenland the result would have
+been the same. No. Resignation is a meaningless word to a man like me."
+
+Loder looked down. "I see," he said, slowly, "I see."
+
+"Then you see everything--the difficulty, the isolation of the position.
+Five years ago--three--even two years ago--I was able to endure it;
+now it gets more unbearable with every month. The day is bound to
+come when--when"--he paused, hesitating nervously--"when it will be
+physically impossible for me to be at my post."
+
+Loder remained silent.
+
+"Physically impossible," Chilcote repeated, excitedly. "Until lately
+I was able to calculate--to count upon myself to some extent; but
+yesterday I received a shock--yesterday I discovered that--that"--again
+he hesitated painfully--"that I have passed the stage when one may
+calculate."
+
+The situation was growing more embarrassing. To hide its awkwardness,
+Loder moved back to the grate and rebuilt the fire, which had fallen
+low.
+
+Chilcote, still excited by his unusual vehemence, followed him, taking
+up a position by the mantelpiece.
+
+"Well?" he said, looking down.
+
+Very slowly Loder rose from his task. "Well?" he reiterated.
+
+"Have you nothing to say?"
+
+"Nothing, except that your story is unique, and that I suppose I am
+flattered by your confidence." His voice was intentionally brusque.
+
+Chilcote paid no attention to the voice. Taking a step forward, he laid
+his fingers on the lapel of Loder's coat.
+
+"I have passed the stage where I can count upon myself," he said, "and I
+want to count upon somebody else. I want to keep my place in the world's
+eyes and yet be free--"
+
+Loder drew back involuntarily, contempt struggling with bewilderment in
+his expression.
+
+Chilcote lifted his head. "By an extraordinary chance," he said, "you
+can do for me what no other man in creation could do. It was suggested
+to me unconsciously by the story of a book--a book in which men change
+identities. I saw nothing in it at the time, but this morning, as I lay
+in bed, sick with yesterday's fiasco, it came back to me--it rushed
+over my mind in an inspiration. It will save me--and make you. I'm not
+insulting you, though you'd like to think so."
+
+Without remark Loder freed himself from the other's touch and walked
+back to his desk. His anger, his pride, and, against his will, his
+excitement were all aroused.
+
+He sat down, leaned his elbow on the desk and took his face between his
+hands. The man behind him undoubtedly talked madness; but after five
+years of dreary sanity madness had a fascination. Against all reason it
+stirred and roused him. For one instant his pride and his anger faltered
+before it, then common-sense flowed back again and adjusted the balance.
+
+"You propose," he said, slowly, "that for a consideration of money I
+should trade on the likeness between us--and become your dummy, when you
+are otherwise engaged?"
+
+Chilcote colored. "You are unpleasantly blunt," he said.
+
+"But I have caught your meaning?"
+
+"In the rough, yes."
+
+Loder nodded curtly. "Then take my advice and go home," he said. "You're
+unhinged."
+
+The other returned his glance, and as their eyes met Loder was
+reluctantly compelled to admit that, though the face was disturbed, it
+had no traces of insanity.
+
+"I make you a proposal," Chilcote repeated, nervously but with
+distinctness. "Do you accept?"
+
+For an instant Loder was at a loss to find a reply sufficiently final.
+Chilcote broke in upon the pause.
+
+"After all," he urged, "what I ask of you is a simple thing. Merely to
+carry through my routine duties for a week or two occasionally when I
+find my endurance giving way--when a respite becomes essential. The work
+would be nothing to a man in your state of mind, the pay anything you
+like to name." In his eagerness he had followed Loder to the desk.
+"Won't you give me an answer? I told you I am neither mad nor drunk."
+
+Loder pushed back the scattered papers that lay under his arm.
+
+"Only a lunatic would propose such a scheme." he said, brusquely and
+without feeling.
+
+"Why?"
+
+The other's lips parted for a quick retort; then in a surprising way the
+retort seemed to fail him. "Oh, because the thing isn't feasible, isn't
+practicable from any point of view."
+
+Chilcote stepped closer. "Why?" he insisted.
+
+"Because it couldn't work, man! Couldn't hold for a dozen hours."
+
+Chilcote put out his hand and touched his arm. "But why?" he urged.
+"Why? Give me one unanswerable reason."
+
+Loder shook off the hand and laughed, but below his laugh lay a
+suggestion of the other's excitement. Again the scene stirred him
+against his sounder judgment; though his reply, when it came, was firm
+enough.
+
+"As for reasons--" he said. "There are a hundred, if I had time to name
+them. Take it, for the sake of supposition, that I were to accept
+your offer. I should take my place in your house at--let us say at
+dinnertime. Your man gets me into your evening-clothes, and there, at
+the very start, you have the first suspicion set up. He has probably
+known you for years--known you until every turn of your appearance,
+voice, and manner is far more familiar to him than it is to you. There
+are no eyes like a servant's."
+
+"I have thought of that. My servant and my secretary can both be
+changed. I will do the thing thoroughly."
+
+Loder glanced at him in surprise. The madness had more method than he
+had believed. Then, as he still looked, a fresh idea struck him, and he
+laughed.
+
+"You have entirely forgotten one thing," he said. "You can hardly
+dismiss your wife."
+
+"My wife doesn't count."
+
+Again Loder laughed. "I'm afraid I scarcely agree. The complications
+would be slightly--slightly--" He paused.
+
+Chilcote's latent irritability broke out suddenly. "Look here," he said,
+"this isn't a chaffing matter, It may be moonshine to you, but it's
+reality to me."
+
+Again Loder took his face between his hands.
+
+"Don't ridicule the idea. I'm in dead earnest."
+
+Loder said nothing.
+
+"Think--think it over before you refuse."
+
+For a moment Loder remained motionless; then h rose suddenly, pushing
+back his chair.
+
+"Tush, man! You don't know what you say. The fact of your being married
+bars it. Can't you see that?"
+
+Again Chilcote caught his arm.
+
+"You misunderstand," he said. "You mistake the position. I tell you my
+wife and I are nothing to each other. She goes her way; I go mine. We
+have our own friends, our own rooms. Marriage, actual marriage, doesn't
+enter the question. We meet occasionally at meals, and at other people's
+houses; sometimes we go out together for the sake of appearances; beyond
+that, nothing. If you take up my life, nobody in it will trouble you
+less than Eve--I can promise that." He laughed unsteadily.
+
+Loder's face remained unmoved.
+
+"Even granting that," he said, "the thing is still impossible."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"There is the House. The position there would be untenable. A man
+is known there as he is known in his own club." He drew away from
+Chilcote's touch.
+
+"Very possibly. Very possibly." Chilcote laughed quickly and excitedly.
+"But what club is without its eccentric member? I am glad you spoke of
+that. I am glad you raised that point. It was a long time ago that I hit
+upon a reputation for moods as a shield for--for other things, and, the
+more useful it has become, the more I have let it grow. I tell you you
+might go down to the House to-morrow and spend the whole day without
+speaking to, even nodding to, a single man, and as long as you were I to
+outward appearances no one would raise an eyebrow. In the same way you
+might vote in my place ask a question, make a speech if you wanted to--"
+
+At the word speech Loder turned involuntarily For a fleeting second the
+coldness of his manner dropped and his face changed.
+
+Chilcote, with his nervous quickness of perception, saw the alteration,
+and a new look crossed his own face.
+
+"Why not?" he said, quickly. "You once had ambitions in that direction.
+Why not renew the ambitions?"
+
+"And drop back from the mountains into the gutter?" Loder smiled and
+slowly shook his head.
+
+"Better to live for one day than to exist for a hundred!" Chilcote's
+voice trembled with anxiety. For the third time he extended his hand and
+touched the other.
+
+This time Loder did not shake off the detaining; hand; he scarcely
+seemed to feel its pressure.
+
+"Look here." Chilcote's fingers tightened. "A little while ago you
+talked of influence. Here you can step into a position built by
+influence. You might do all you once hoped to do--"
+
+Loder suddenly lifted his head. "Absurd!" he said. "Absurd! Such a
+scheme was never carried through."
+
+"Precisely why it will succeed. People never suspect until they have
+a precedent. Will you consider it? At least consider it. Remember, if
+there is a risk, it is I who am running it. On your own showing, you
+have no position to jeopardize."
+
+The other laughed curtly.
+
+"Before I go to-night will you promise me to consider it?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then you will send me your decision by wire to-morrow. I won't take
+your answer now."
+
+Loder freed his arm abruptly. "Why not?" he asked.
+
+Chilcote smiled nervously. "Because I know men--and men's temptations.
+We are all very strong till the quick is touched; then we all wince.
+It's morphia with one man, ambitions with another. In each case it's
+only a matter of sooner or later." He laughed in his satirical, unstrung
+way, and held out his hand. "'You have my address," he said. "Au
+revoir."
+
+Loder pressed the hand and dropped it. "Goodbye," he said, meaningly.
+Then he crossed the room quietly and held the door open. "Good-bye," he
+said again as the other passed him.
+
+As he crossed the threshold, Chilcote paused. "Au revoir," he corrected,
+with emphasis.
+
+Until the last echo of his visitor's steps had died away Loder stood
+with his hand on the door; then, closing it quietly, he turned and
+looked round the room. For a considerable space he stood there as if
+weighing the merits of each object; then very slowly he moved to one of
+the book-shelves, drew out May's Parliamentary Practice, and, carrying
+it to the desk, readjusted the lamp.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+All the next day Chilcote moved in a fever of excitement. Hot with hope
+one moment, cold with fever the next, he rushed with restless energy
+into every task that presented itself--only to drop it as speedily.
+Twice during the morning he drove to the entrance of Clifford's Inn, but
+each time his courage failed him and he returned to Grosvenor Square--to
+learn that the expected message from Loder had not come.
+
+It was a wearing condition of mind; but at worst it was scarcely more
+than an exaggeration of what his state had been for months, and made but
+little obvious difference in his bearing or manner.
+
+In the afternoon he took his place in the House, but, though it was his
+first appearance since his failure of two days ago, he drew but small
+personal notice. When he chose, his manner could repel advances with
+extreme effect, and of late men had been prone to draw away from him.
+
+In one of the lobbies he encountered Fraide surrounded by a group of
+friends. With his usual furtive haste he would have passed on; but,
+moving away from his party, the old man accosted him. He was always
+courteously particular in his treatment of Chilcote, as the husband of
+his ward and godchild.
+
+"Better, Chilcote?" he said, holding out his hand.
+
+At the sound of the low, rather formal tones, so characteristic of the
+old statesman, a hundred memories rose to Chilcote's mind, a hundred
+hours, distasteful in the living and unbearable in the recollection; and
+with them the new flash of hope, the new possibility of freedom. In a
+sudden rush of confidence he turned to his leader.
+
+"I believe I've found a remedy for my nerves," he said. "I--I believe
+I'm going to be anew man." He laughed with a touch of excitement,
+
+Fraide pressed his fingers kindly, "That is right," he said. "That is
+right. I called at Grosvenor Square this morning, but Eve told me
+your illness of the other day was not serious. She was very busy
+this morning--she could only spare me a quarter of an hour. She is
+indefatigable over the social side of your prospects. Chilcote. You owe
+her a large debt. A popular wife means a great deal to a politician."
+
+The steady eyes of his companion disturbed Chilcote.
+
+He drew away his hand.
+
+"Eve is unique," he said, vaguely.
+
+Fraide smiled. "That is right," he said again. "Admiration is too
+largely excluded from modern marriages." And with a courteous excuse he
+rejoined his friends.
+
+It was dinner-time before Chilcote could desert the House, but the
+moment departure was possible he hurried to Grosvenor Square.
+
+As he entered the house, the hall was empty. He swore irritably under
+his breath and pressed the nearest bell. Since his momentary exaltation
+in Fraide's presence, his spirits had steadily fallen, until now they
+hung at the lowest ebb.
+
+As he waited in unconcealed impatience for an answer to his summons, he
+caught sight of his man Allsopp at the head of the stairs.
+
+"Come here!" he called, pleased to find some one upon whom to vent his
+irritation. "Has that wire come for me?"
+
+"No, sir. I inquired five minutes back."
+
+"Inquire again."
+
+"Yes, sir." Allsopp disappeared.
+
+A second after his disappearance the bell of the hall door whizzed
+loudly.
+
+Chileote started. All sudden sounds, like all strong lights, affected
+him. He half moved to the door, then stopped himself with a short
+exclamation. At the same instant Allsopp reappeared.
+
+Chilcote turned on him excitedly.
+
+"What the devil's the meaning of this?" he said. "A battery of servants
+in the house and nobody to open the hall door!"
+
+Allsopp looked embarrassed. "Crapham is coming directly, sir. He only
+left the hall to ask Jeffries--"
+
+Chilcote turned. "Confound Crapham!" he exclaimed. "Go and open the door
+yourself."
+
+Allsopp hesitated, his dignity struggling with his obedience. As he
+waited, the bell sounded again.
+
+"Did you hear me?" Chilcote said.
+
+"Yes, sir." Allsopp crossed the hall.
+
+As the door was opened Chilcote passed his handkerchief from one hand to
+the other in the tension of hope and fear; then, as the sound of his own
+name in the shrill tones of a telegraph-boy reached his ears, he let the
+handkerchief drop to the ground.
+
+Allsopp took the yellow envelope and carried it to his master.
+
+"A telegram, sir," he said. "And the boy wishes to know if there is
+an answer." Picking up Chilcote's handkerchief, he turned aside with
+elaborate dignity.
+
+Chilcote's hands were so unsteady that he could scarcely insert his
+finger under the flap of the envelope. Tearing off a corner, he wrenched
+the covering apart and smoothed out the flimsy pink paper.
+
+The message was very simple, consisting of but seven words:
+
+   "Shall expect you at eleven to-night.-LODER."
+
+He read it two or three times, then he looked up. "No answer," he said,
+mechanically; and to his own ears the relief in his voice sounded harsh
+and unnatural.
+
+Exactly as the clocks chimed eleven Chilcote mounted the stairs to
+Loder's rooms. But this time there was more of haste than of uncertainty
+in his steps, and, reaching the landing, he crossed it in a couple of
+strides and knocked feverishly on the door.
+
+It opened at once, and Loder stood before him.
+
+The occasion was peculiar. For a moment neither spoke; each
+involuntarily looked at the other with new eyes and under changed
+conditions. Each had assumed a fresh stand-point in the other's thought.
+The passing astonishment, the half-impersonal curiosity that had
+previously tinged their relationship, was cast aside, never to be
+reassumed. In each, the other saw himself--and something more.
+
+As usual, Loder was the first to recover himself.
+
+"I was expecting you," he said. "Won't you come in?"
+
+The words were almost the same as his words of the night before, but his
+voice had a different ring; just as his face, when he drew back into the
+room, had a different expression--a suggestion of decision and energy
+that had been lacking before. Chilcote caught the difference as he
+crossed the threshold, and for a bare second a flicker of something like
+jealousy touched him. But the sensation was fleeting.
+
+"I have to thank you!" he said, holding out his hand. He was too well
+bred to show by a hint that he understood the drop in the other's
+principles. But Loder broke down the artifice.
+
+"Let's be straight with each other, since everybody else has to be
+deceived," he said, taking the other's hand. "You have nothing to thank
+me for, and you know it. It's a touch of the old Adam. You tempted me,
+and I fell." He laughed, but below the laugh ran a note of something
+like triumph--the curious triumph of a man who has known the tyranny of
+strength and suddenly appreciates the freedom of a weakness.
+
+"You fully realize the thing you have proposed?" he added, in a
+different tone. "It's not too late to retract, even now."
+
+Chilcote opened his lips, paused, then laughed in imitation of his
+companion; but the laugh sounded forced.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said at last, "I never retract."
+
+"Never?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then the bargain's sealed."
+
+Loder walked slowly across the room, and, taking up his position by the
+mantel-piece, looked at his companion. The similarity between them
+as they faced each other seemed abnormal, defying even the closest
+scrutiny. And yet, so mysterious is Nature even in her lapses, they
+were subtly, indefinably different. Chilcote was Loder deprived of one
+essential: Loder, Chilcote with that essential bestowed. The difference
+lay neither in feature, in coloring, nor in height, but in that
+baffling, illusive inner illumination that some call individuality, and
+others soul.
+
+Something of this idea, misted and tangled by nervous imagination,
+crossed Chilcote's mind in that moment of scrutiny, but he shrank from
+it apprehensively.
+
+"I--I came to discuss details," he said, quickly, crossing the space
+that divided him from his host. "Shall we--? Are you--?" He paused
+uneasily.
+
+"I'm entirely in your hands." Loder spoke with abrupt decision. Moving
+to the table, he indicated a chair, and drew another forward for
+himself.
+
+Both men sat down.
+
+Chilcote leaned forward, resting elbows on the table. "There will be
+several things to consider--" he began, nervously, looking across at the
+other.
+
+"Quite so." Loder glanced back appreciatively. "I thought about those
+things the better part of last night. To begin with, I must study your
+handwriting. I guarantee to get it right, but it will take a month."
+
+"A month!"
+
+"Well, perhaps three weeks. We mustn't make a mess of things."
+
+Chilcote shifted his position.
+
+"Three weeks!" he repeated. "Couldn't you--?"
+
+"No; I couldn't." Loder spoke authoritatively. "I might never want to
+put pen to paper, but, on the other hand, I might have to sign a check
+one day." He laughed. "Have you ever thought of that?--that I might have
+to, or want to, sign a check?"
+
+"No. I confess that escaped me."
+
+"You risk your fortune that you, may keep the place it bought for you?"
+Loder laughed again. "How do you know that I am not a blackguard?" he
+added. "How do you know that I won't clear out one day and leave you
+high and dry? What is to prevent John Chilcote from realizing forty or
+fifty thousand pounds and then making himself scarce?"
+
+"You won't do that," Chilcote said, with unusual decision. "I told you
+your weakness last night; and it wasn't money. Money isn't the rock
+you'll split over."
+
+"Then you think I'll split upon some rock? But that's beyond the
+question. To get to business again. You'll risk my studying your
+signature?"
+
+Chilcote nodded.
+
+"Right! Now item two." Loder counted on his: fingers. "I must know the
+names and faces of your men friends as far as I can. Your woman friends
+don't count. While I'm you, you will be adamant." He laughed again
+pleasantly. "But the men are essential--the backbone of the whole
+business."
+
+"I have no men friends. I don't trust the idea of friendship."
+
+"Acquaintances, then."
+
+Chilcote looked up sharply. "I think we score there," he said. "I have a
+reputation for absent-mindedness that will carry you anywhere. They tell
+me I can look through the most substantial man in the House as if he
+were gossamer, though I may have lunched with him the same day."
+
+Loder smiled. "By Jove!" he exclaimed. "Fate Must have been constructing
+this before either of us was born. It dovetails ridiculously. But I must
+know your colleagues--even if it's only to cut them. You'll have to take
+me to the House."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"Not at all!" Again the tone of authority fell to Loder. "I can pull my
+hat over my eyes and turn up my coat-collar. Nobody will notice me.
+We can choose the fall of the afternoon. I promise you 'twill be all
+right."
+
+"Suppose the likeness should leak out? It's a risk."
+
+Loder laughed confidently. "Tush, man! Risk is the salt of life. I must
+see you at your post, and I must see the men you work with." He rose,
+walked across the room, and took his pipe from the rack. "When I go in
+for a thing, I like to go in over head and ears," he added, as he opened
+his tobacco-jar.
+
+His pipe filled, he resumed his seat, resting his elbows on the table in
+unconscious imitation of Chilcote.
+
+"Got a match?" he said, laconically, holding out his band.
+
+In response Chilcote drew his match-box from his pocket and struck a
+light. As their hands touched, an exclamation escaped him.
+
+"By Jove!" he said, with a fretful mixture of disappointment and
+surprise. "I hadn't noticed that!" His eyes were fixed in annoyed
+interest on Loder's extended hand.
+
+Loder, following his glance, smiled. "Odd that we should both have
+overlooked it! It clean escaped my mind. It's rather an ugly scar." He
+lifted his hand till the light fell more fully on it. Above the second
+joint of the third finger ran a jagged furrow, the reminder of a wound
+that had once laid bare the bone.
+
+Chilcote leaned forward. "How did you come by it?" he asked.
+
+The other shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, that's ancient history."
+
+"The results are present-day enough. It's very awkward! Very annoying!"
+Chilcote's spirits, at all times overeasily played upon, were damped by
+this obstacle.
+
+Loder, still looking at his hand, didn't seem to hear. "There's only one
+thing to be done," he said. "Each wear two rings on the third finger
+of the left hand. Two rings ought to cover it." He made a speculative
+measurement with the stem of his pipe.
+
+Chilcote still looked irritable and disturbed. "I detest rings. I never
+wear rings."
+
+Loder raised his eyes calmly. "Neither do I," he said. "But there's no
+reason for bigotry."
+
+But Chilcote's irritability was started. He pushed back his chair. "I
+don't like the idea," he said.
+
+The other eyed him amusedly. "What a queer beggar you are!" he said.
+"You waive the danger of a man signing your checks and shy at wearing a
+piece of jewelry. I'll have a fair share of individuality to study."
+
+Chilcote moved restlessly. "Everybody knows I detest jewelry."
+
+"Everybody knows you are capricious. It's got to be the rings or
+nothing, so far as I make out."
+
+Chilcote again altered his position, avoiding the other's eyes. At last,
+after a struggle with himself, he looked up.
+
+"I suppose you're right!" he said. "Have it your own way." It was the
+first small, tangible concession to the stronger will.
+
+Loder took his victory quietly. "Good!" he said. "Then it's all straight
+sailing?"
+
+"Except for the matter of the--the remuneration." Chilcote hazarded the
+word uncertainly.
+
+There was a faint pause, then Loder laughed brusquely. "My pay?"
+
+The other was embarrassed. "I didn't want to put it quite like that."
+
+"But that was what you thought. Why are you never honest--even with
+yourself?"
+
+Chilcote drew his chair closer to the table. He did not attend to the
+other's remark, but his fingers strayed to his waistcoat pocket and
+fumbled there.
+
+Loder saw the gesture. "Look here," he said, "you are overtaxing
+yourself. The affair of the pay isn't pressing; we'll shelve it to
+another night. You look tired out."
+
+Chilcote lifted his eyes with a relieved glance. "Thanks. I do feel a
+bit fagged. If I may, I'll have that whiskey that I refused last night."
+
+"Why, certainly." Loder rose at once and crossed to a cupboard in
+the wall. In silence he brought out whiskey, glasses, and a siphon of
+soda-water. "Say when!" he said, lifting the whiskey.
+
+"Now. And I'll have plain water instead of soda, if it's all the same."
+
+"Oh, quite." Loder recrossed the room. Instantly his back was turned,
+Chilcote drew a couple of tabloids from his pocket and dropped them into
+his glass. As the other came slowly back he laughed nervously.
+
+"Thanks. See to your own drink now; I can manage this." He took the
+jug unceremoniously, and, carefully guarding his glass from the light,
+poured in the water with excited haste.
+
+"What shall we drink to?" he said.
+
+Loder methodically mixed his own drink and lifted the glass. "Oh, to the
+career of John Chilcote!" he answered.
+
+For an instant the other hesitated. There was something prophetic in the
+sound of the toast. But he shook the feeling off and held up his glass.
+
+"To the career of John Chilcote!" he said, with another unsteady laugh.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+It was a little less than three weeks since Chilcote and Loder had drunk
+their toast, and again Loder was seated at his desk.
+
+His head was bent and his hand moved carefully as he traced line after
+line of meaningless words on a sheet of foolscap. Having covered the
+page with writing, he rose, moved to the centre-table, and compared his
+task with an open letter that lay there. The comparison seemed to
+please him; he straightened his shoulders and threw back his head in an
+attitude of critical satisfaction. So absorbed was he that, when a step
+sounded on the stairs outside, he did not notice it, and only raised
+his head when the door was thrown open unceremoniously. Even then his
+interest was momentary.
+
+"Hullo!" he said, his eyes returning to their scrutiny of his task.
+
+Chilcote shut the door and came hastily across the room. He looked ill
+and harassed. As he reached Loder he put out his hand nervously and
+touched his arm.
+
+Loder looked up. "What is it?" he asked. "Any new development?"
+
+Chilcote tried to smile. "Yes," he said, huskily; "it's come."
+
+Loder freed his arm. "What? The end of the world?"
+
+"No. The end of me." The words came jerkily, the strain that had
+enforced them showing in every syllable.
+
+Still Loder was uncomprehending; he could not, or would not, understand.
+
+Again Chilcote caught and jerked at his sleeve. "Don't you see? Can't
+you see?"
+
+"No."
+
+Chilcote dropped the sleeve and passed his handkerchief across his
+forehead. "It's come," he repeated. "Don't you understand? I want you."
+He drew away, then stepped back again anxiously. "I know I'm taking you
+unawares," he said. "But it's not my fault. On my soul, it's not! The
+thing seems to spring at me and grip me--" He stopped, sinking weakly
+into a chair.
+
+For a moment Loder stood erect and immovable--then, almost with
+reluctance, his glance turned to the figure beside him.
+
+"You want me to take your place to-night--without preparation?" His
+voice was distinct and firm, but it was free from contempt.
+
+"Yes; yes, I do." Chilcote spoke without looking up.
+
+"That you may spend the night in morphia--this and other nights?"
+
+Chilcote lifted a flushed, unsettled face. "You have no right to preach.
+You accepted the bargain."
+
+Loder raised his head quickly. "I never--" he began; then both his face
+and voice altered. "You are quite right," he said, coldly. "You won't
+have to complain again."
+
+Chilcote stirred uncomfortably. "My dear chap," he said, "I meant no
+offence. It's merely--"
+
+"Your nerves. I know. But come to business. What am I to do?"
+
+Chilcote rose excitedly. "Yes, business. Let's come to business. It's
+rough on you, taking you short like this. But you have an erratic person
+to deal with. I've had a horrible day--a horrible day." His face had
+paled again, and in the green lamplight it possessed a grayish hue.
+Involuntarily Loder turned away.
+
+Chilcote watched him as he passed to the desk and began mechanically
+sorting papers. "A horrible day!" he repeated. "So bad that I daren't
+face the night. You have read De Quincey?" he asked, with a sudden
+change of tone.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then read him again and you'll understand. I have all the
+horrors--without any art. I have no 'Ladies of Sorrow,' but I have worse
+monsters than his 'crocodile'." He laughed unpleasantly.
+
+Loder turned. "Why in the devil's name--" he began; then again he
+halted. Something in Chilcote's drawn, excited face checked him. The
+strange sense of predestination that we sometimes see in the eyes of
+another struck cold upon him, chilling his last attempt at remonstrance.
+"What do you want me to do?" he substituted, in an ordinary voice.
+
+The words steadied Chilcote. He laughed a little. The laugh was still
+shaky, but it was pitched in a lower key.
+
+"You--you're quite right to pull me up. We have no time to waste. It
+must be one o'clock." He pulled out his watch, then walked to the window
+and stood looking down into the shadowy court. "How quiet you are here!"
+he said. Then abruptly anew thought struck him and he wheeled back into
+the room. "Loder," he said, quickly---"Loder, I have an idea! While you
+are me, why shouldn't I be you? Why shouldn't I be John Loder instead
+of the vagrant we contemplated? It covers everything--it explains
+everything. It's magnificent! I'm amazed we never thought of it before."
+
+Loder was still beside the desk. "I thought of it," he said, without
+looking back.
+
+"And didn't suggest it?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why?"
+
+Loder said nothing and the other colored.
+
+"Jealous of your reputation?" he said, satirically.
+
+"I have none to be jealous of."
+
+Chilcote laughed disagreeably. "Then you aren't so for gone in
+philosophy as I thought. You have a niche in your own good opinion."
+
+Again Loder was silent; then he smiled. "You have an oddly correct
+perception at times," he said. "I suppose I have had a lame sort
+of pride in keeping my name clean. But pride like that is out of
+fashion--and I've got to float with the tide." He laughed, the short
+laugh that Chilcote had heard once or twice before, and, crossing the
+room, he stood beside his visitor. "After all," he said, "what business
+have I with pride, straight or lame? Have my identity, if you want
+it. When all defences have been broken down one barrier won't save the
+town." Laughing again, he laid his hand on the other's arm. "Come," he
+said, "give your orders. I capitulate."
+
+An hour later the two men passed from Loder's bed room, where the final
+arrangements had been completed, back into the sitting-room. Loder came
+first, in faultless evening-dress. His hair was carefully brushed, the
+clothes he wore fitted him perfectly. To any glance, critical or casual,
+he was the man who had mounted the stairs and entered the rooms earlier
+in the evening. Chilcote's manner of walking and poise of the head
+seemed to have descended upon him with Chilcote's clothes. He came into
+the room hastily and passed to the desk.
+
+"I have no private papers," he said, "so I have nothing to lock up.
+Everything can stand as it is. A woman named Robins comes in the
+mornings to clean up and light the fire; otherwise you must shift for
+yourself. Nobody will disturb you. Quiet, dead quiet, is about the one
+thing you can count on."
+
+Chilcote, half halting in the doorway, made an attempt to laugh. Of
+the two, he was noticeably the more embarrassed. In Loder's well-worn,
+well-brushed tweed suit he felt stranded on his own personality,
+bereft for the moment of the familiar accessories that helped to cloak
+deficiencies and keep the wheel of conventionality comfortably rolling.
+He stood unpleasantly conscious of himself, unable to shape his
+sensations even in thought. He glanced at the fire, at the table,
+finally at the chair on which he had thrown his overcoat before
+entering the bedroom. At the sight of the coat his gaze brightened, the
+aimlessness forsook him, and he gave an exclamation of relief.
+
+"By Jove!" he said. "I clean forgot."
+
+"What?" Loder looked round.
+
+"The rings." He crossed to the coat and thrust his hand into the pocket.
+"The duplicates only arrived this afternoon. The nick of time, eh?" He
+spoke fast, his fingers searching busily. Occupation of any kind came as
+a boon.
+
+Loder slowly followed him, and as the box was brought to light he leaned
+forward interestedly.
+
+"As I told you, one is the copy of an old signet-ring, the other a plain
+band--a plain gold band like a wedding-ring." Chilcote laughed as
+he placed the four rings side by side on his palm. "I could think of
+nothing else that would be wide--and not ostentatious. You know how I
+detest display."
+
+Loder touched the rings. "You have good taste," he said. "Let's see if
+they serve their purpose?" He picked them up and carried them to the
+lamp.
+
+Chilcote followed him. "That was an ugly wound," he said, his curiosity
+reawakening as Loder extended his finger. "How did you come by it?"
+
+The other smiled. "It's a memento," he said.
+
+"Of bravery?"
+
+"No. Quite the reverse." He looked again at his hand, then glanced back
+at Chilcote. "No," he repeated, with an unusual impulse of confidence.
+"It serves to remind me that I am not exempt--that I have been fooled
+like other men."
+
+"That implies a woman?"
+
+"Yes." Again Loder looked at the scar on his finger. "I seldom recall
+the thing, it's so absolutely past. But I rather like to remember it
+to-night. I rather want you to know that I've been through the fire.
+It's a sort of guarantee."
+
+Chilcote made a hasty gesture, but the other interrupted it.
+
+"Oh, I know you trust me. But you're giving me a risky post. I want you
+to see that women are out of my line--quite out of it."
+
+"But, my dear chap--"
+
+Loder went on without heeding. "This thing happened eight years ago at
+Santasalare," he said, "a little place between Luna and Pistoria--a mere
+handful of houses wedged between two hills. A regular relic of old Italy
+crumbling away under flowers and sunshine, with nothing to suggest the
+present century except the occasional passing of a train round the base
+of one of the hills. I had literally stumbled upon the place on a long
+tramp south from Switzerland, and had been tempted into a stay at the
+little inn. The night after my arrival something unusual occurred. There
+was an accident to the train at the point where it skirted the village.
+
+"There was a small excitement; all the inhabitants were anxious to help,
+and I took my share. As a matter of fact, the smash was not disastrous;
+the passengers were hurt and frightened, but nobody was killed."
+
+He paused and looked at his companion, but, seeing him interested, went
+on:
+
+"Among these passengers was an English lady. Of all concerned in the
+business, she was the least upset. When I came upon her she was sitting
+on the shattered door of one of the carriages, calmly rearranging her
+hat. On seeing me she looked up with the most charming smile imaginable.
+
+"'I have just been waiting for somebody like you,' she said. 'My stupid
+maid has got herself smashed up somewhere in the second-class carriages,
+and I have nobody to help me to find my dog.'
+
+"Of course, that first speech ought to have enlightened me, but it
+didn't. I only saw the smile and heard the voice; I knew nothing of
+whether they were deep or shallow. So I found the maid and found the
+dog. The first expressed gratitude; the other didn't. I extricated him
+with enormous difficulty from the wreck of the luggage-van, and this was
+how he marked his appreciation." He held out his hand and nodded towards
+the scar.
+
+Chilcote glanced up. "So that's the explanation?"
+
+"Yes. I tried to conceal the thing when I restored the dog, but I was
+bleeding abominably and I failed. Then the whole business was changed.
+It was I who needed seeing to, my new friend insisted; I who should be
+looked after, and not she. She forgot the dog in the newer interest of
+my wounded finger. The maid, who was practically unhurt, was sent on to
+engage rooms at the little inn, and she and I followed slowly.
+
+"That walk impressed me. There was an attractive mistiness of atmosphere
+in the warm night, a sensation more than attractive in being made
+much of by a woman of one's own class and country after five years'
+wandering." He laughed with a touch of irony. "But I won't take up your
+time with details. You know the progress of an ordinary love affair.
+Throw in a few more flowers and a little more sunshine than is usual,
+a man who is practically a hermit and a woman who knows the world by
+heart, and you have the whole thing.
+
+"She insisted on staying in Santasalare for three days in order to keep
+my finger bandaged; she ended by staying three weeks in the hope of
+smashing up my life.
+
+"On coming to the hotel she had given no name; and in our first
+explanations to each other she led me to conclude her an unmarried girl.
+It was at the end of the three weeks that I learned that she was not a
+free agent, as I had innocently imagined, but possessed a husband whom
+she had left ill with malaria at Florence or Rome.
+
+"The news disconcerted me, and I took no pains to hide it. After that
+the end came abruptly. In her eyes I had become a fool with middle-class
+principles; in my eyes--But there is no need for that. She left
+Santasalare the same night in a great confusion of trunks and hat-boxes;
+and next morning I strapped on my knapsack and turned my face to the
+south."
+
+"And women don't count ever after?" Chilcote smiled, beguiled out of
+himself.
+
+Loder laughed. "That's what I've been trying to convey. Once bitten,
+twice shy!" He laughed again and slipped the two rings over his finger
+with an air of finality.
+
+"Now, shall I start? This is the latch-key?" He drew a key from the
+pocket of Chilcote's evening-clothes. "When I get to Grosvenor Square I
+am to find your house, go straight in, mount the stairs, and there on
+my right hand will be the door of your--I mean my own--private rooms. I
+think I've got it all by heart. I feel inspired; I feel that I can't go
+wrong." He handed the two remaining rings to Chilcote and picked up the
+overcoat.
+
+"I'll stick on till I get a wire--," he said. "Then I'll come back and
+we'll reverse again." He slipped on the coat and moved back towards the
+table. Now that the decisive moment had come, it embarrassed him.
+
+Scarcely knowing how to bring it to an end, he held out his hand.
+
+Chilcote took it, paling a little. "'Twill be all right!" he said, with
+a sudden return of nervousness. "'Twill be all right! And I've made
+it plain about--about the remuneration? A hundred a week--besides all
+expenses."
+
+Loder smiled again. "My pay? Oh yes, you've made it clear as day. Shall
+we say good-night now?"
+
+"Yes. Good-night."
+
+There was a strange, distant note in Chilcote's voice, but the other did
+not pretend to hear it. He pressed the hand he was holding, though the
+cold dampness of it repelled him.
+
+"Good-night," he said again.
+
+"Good-night."
+
+They stood for a moment, awkwardly looking at each other, then Loder
+quietly disengaged his hand, crossed the room, and passed through the
+door.
+
+Chilcote, left standing alone in the middle of the room, listened while
+the last sound of the other's footsteps was audible on the uncarpeted
+stairs; then, with a furtive, hurried gesture, he caught up the
+green-shaded lamp and passed into Loder's bedroom.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+To all men come portentous moments, difficult moments, triumphant
+moments. Loder had had his examples of all three, but no moment in his
+career ever equalled in strangeness of sensation that in which, dressed
+in another man's clothes, he fitted the latchkey for the first time into
+the door of the other man's house.
+
+The act was quietly done. The key fitted the lock smoothly and his
+fingers turned it without hesitation, though his heart, usually
+extremely steady, beat sharply for a second. The hall loomed massive
+and sombre despite the modernity of electric lights. It was darkly and
+expensively decorated in black and brown; a frieze of wrought bronze,
+representing peacocks with outspread tails, ornamented the walls; the
+banisters were of heavy iron-work, and the somewhat formidable fireplace
+was of the same dark metal.
+
+Loder looked about him, then advanced, his heart again beating quickly
+as his hand touched the cold banister and he began his ascent of the
+stairs. But at each step his confidence strengthened, his feet became
+more firm; until, at the head of the stairs, as if to disprove his
+assurance, his pulses played him false once more, this time to a more
+serious tune. From the farther end of a well-lighted corridor a maid was
+coming straight in his direction.
+
+For one short second all things seemed to whiz about him; the certainty
+of detection overpowered his mind. The indisputable knowledge that he
+was John Loder and no other, despite all armor of effrontery and dress,
+so dominated him that all other considerations shrank before it. It
+wanted but one word, one simple word of denunciation, and the whole
+scheme was shattered. In the dismay of the moment, he almost wished that
+the word might be spoken and the suspense ended.
+
+But the maid came on in silence, and so incredible was the silence that
+Loder moved onward, too. He came within a yard of her, and still she did
+not speak; then, as he passed her, she drew back respectfully against
+the wall.
+
+The strain, so astonishingly short, had been immense, but with its
+slackening came a strong reaction. The expected humiliation seethed
+suddenly to a desire to dare fate. Pausing quickly, he turned and called
+the woman back.
+
+The spot where he had halted was vividly bright, the ceiling light being
+directly above his head; and as she came towards him he raised his face
+deliberately and-waited.
+
+She looked at him without surprise or interest. "Yes, sir?" she said.
+
+"Is your mistress in?" he asked. He could think of no other question,
+but it served his purpose as a test of his voice.
+
+Still the woman showed no surprise. "She's not in sir," she answered.
+"But she's expected in half an hour."
+
+"In half an hour? All right! That's all I wanted." With a movement of
+decision Loder walked back to the stair-head, turned to the right, and
+opened the door of Chilcote's rooms.
+
+The door opened on a short, wide passage; on one side stood the study,
+on the other the bed, bath, and dressing-rooms. With a blind sense of
+knowledge and unfamiliarity, bred of much description on Chilcote's
+part, he put his hand on the study door and, still exalted by the omen
+of his first success, turned the handle.
+
+Inside the room there was firelight and lamplight and a studious air
+of peace. The realization of this and a slow incredulity at Chilcote's
+voluntary renunciation were his first impressions; then his attention
+was needed for more imminent things.
+
+As he entered, the new secretary was returning a volume to its place on
+the book-shelves. At sight of him, he pushed it hastily into position
+and turned round.
+
+"I was making a few notes on the political position of Khorasan," he
+said, glancing with slight apprehensiveness at the other's face. He
+was a small, shy man, with few social attainments but an extraordinary
+amount of learning--the antithesis of the alert Blessington, whom he had
+replaced.
+
+Loder bore his scrutiny without flinching. Indeed, it struck him
+suddenly that there was a fund of interest, almost of excitement, in the
+encountering of each new pair of eyes. At the thought he moved forward
+to the desk.
+
+"Thank you, Greening," he said. "A very useful bit of work."
+
+The secretary glanced up, slightly puzzled. His endurance had been
+severely taxed in the fourteen days that he had filled his new post.
+
+"I'm glad you think so, sir," he said, hesitatingly. "You rather
+pooh-poohed the matter this morning, if you remember."
+
+Loder was taking off his coat, but stopped in the operation.
+
+"This morning?" he said. "Oh, did I? Did I?" Then, struck by the
+opportunity the words gave him, he turned towards the secretary. "You've
+got to get used to me, Greening," he said. "You haven't quite grasped me
+yet, I can see. I'm a man of moods, you know. Up to the present you've
+seen my slack side, my jarred side, but I have quite another when I care
+to show it. I'm a sort of Jekyll-and-Hyde affair." Again he laughed,
+and Greening echoed the sound diffidently. Chilcote had evidently
+discouraged familiarity.
+
+Loder eyed him with abrupt understanding. He recognized the loneliness
+in the anxious, conciliatory manner.
+
+"You're tired," he said, kindly. "Go to bed. I've got some thinking to
+do. Good-night." He held out his hand.
+
+Greening took it, still half distrustful of this fresh side to so
+complex a man.
+
+"Good-night, sir," he said. "To-morrow, if you approve, I shall go on
+with my notes. I hope you will have a restful night."
+
+For a second Loder's eyebrows went up, but he recovered himself
+instantly.
+
+"Ah, thanks, Greening," he said. "Thanks. I think your hope will be
+fulfilled."
+
+He watched the little secretary move softly and apologetically to
+the door; then he walked to the fire, and, resting his elbows on the
+mantel-piece, he took his face in his hands.
+
+For a space he stood absolutely quiet, then his hands dropped to his
+sides and he turned slowly round. In that short space he had balanced
+things and found his bearings. The slight nervousness shown in his
+brusque sentences and overconfident manner faded out, and he faced facts
+steadily.
+
+With the return of his calmness he took a long survey of the room. His
+glance brightened appreciatively as it travelled from the walls lined
+with well-bound books to the lamps modulated to the proper light;
+from the lamps to the desk fitted with every requirement. Nothing was
+lacking. All he had once possessed, all he had since dreamed of, was
+here, but on a greater scale. To enjoy the luxuries of life a man must
+go long without them. Loder had lived severely--so severely that until
+three weeks ago he had believed himself exempt from the temptations of
+humanity. Then the voice of the world had spoken, and within him another
+voice had answered, with a tone so clamorous and insistent that it had
+outcried his surprised and incredulous wonder at its existence and its
+claims. That had been the voice of suppressed ambition; and now as he
+stood in the new atmosphere a newer voice lifted itself. The joy of
+material things rose suddenly, overbalancing the last remnant of the
+philosophy he had reared. He saw all things in a fresh light--the soft
+carpets, the soft lights, the numberless pleasant, unnecessary things
+that color the passing landscape and oil the wheels of life. This was
+power--power made manifest. The choice bindings of one's books, the
+quiet harmony of one's surroundings, the gratifying deference of one's
+dependants--these were the visible, the outward signs, the things he had
+forgotten.
+
+Crossing the room slowly, he lifted and looked at the different papers
+on the desk. They had a substantial feeling, an importance, an air of
+value. They were like the solemn keys to so many vexed problems. Beside
+the papers were a heap of letters neatly arranged and as yet unopened.
+He turned them over one by one. They were all thick, and interesting to
+look at. He smiled as he recalled his own scanty mail: envelopes long
+and bulky or narrow and thin--unwelcome manuscripts or very welcome
+checks. Having sorted the letters, he hesitated. It was his task to
+open them, but he had never in his life opened an envelope addressed to
+another man.
+
+He stood uncertain, weighing them in his hand.
+
+Then all at once a look of attention and surprise crossed his face, and
+he raised his head. Some one had unmistakably paused outside the door
+which Greening had left ajar.
+
+There was a moment of apparent doubt, then a stir of skirts, a quick,
+uncertain knock, and the intruder entered.
+
+For a couple of seconds she stood in the doorway; then, as Loder made
+no effort to speak, she moved into the room. She had apparently but just
+returned from some entertainment, for, though she had drawn off her long
+gloves, she was still wearing an evening cloak of lace and fur.
+
+That she was Chilcote's wife Loder instinctively realized the moment she
+entered the room. But a disconcerting confusion of ideas was all that
+followed the knowledge. He stood by the desk, silent and awkward,
+trying to fit his expectations to his knowledge. Then, faced by the
+hopelessness of the task, he turned abruptly and looked at her again.
+
+She had taken off her cloak and was standing by the fire. The compulsion
+of moving through life alone had set its seal upon her in a certain
+self-possession, a certain confidence of pose; yet her figure, as Loder
+then saw it, backgrounded by the dark books and gowned in pale blue,
+had a suggestion of youthfulness that seemed a contradiction. The
+remembrance of Chilcote's epithets "cold" and "unsympathetic" came back
+to him with something like astonishment. He felt no uncertainty, no
+dread of discovery and humiliation in her presence as he had felt in
+the maid's; yet there was something in her face that made him infinitely
+more uncomfortable. A look he could find no name for--a friendliness
+that studiously covered another feeling, whether question, distrust, or
+actual dislike he could not say. With a strange sensation of awkwardness
+he sorted Chilcote's letters, waiting for her to speak.
+
+As if divining his thought, she turned towards him. "I'm afraid I rather
+intrude," she said. "If you are busy--"
+
+His sense of courtesy was touched; he had begun life with a high opinion
+of women, and the words shook up an echo of the old sentiment.
+
+"Don't think that," he said, hastily. "I was only looking through--my
+letters. You mustn't rate yourself below letters." He was conscious that
+his tone was hurried, that his words were a little jagged; but Eve did
+not appear to notice. Unlike Greening, she took the new manner without
+surprise. She had known Chilcote for six years.
+
+"I dined with the Fraides to-night," she said. "Mr. Fraide sent you a
+message."
+
+Unconsciously Loder smiled. There was humor in the thought of a message
+to him from the great Fraide. To hide his amusement he wheeled one of
+the big lounge-chairs forward.
+
+"Indeed," he said. "Won't you sit down?"
+
+They were near together now, and he saw her face more fully. Again
+he was taken aback. Chilcote had spoken of her as successful and
+intelligent, but never as beautiful. Yet her beauty was a rare and
+uncommon fact. Her hair was black--not a glossy black, but the dusky
+black that is softer than any brown; her eyes were large and of a
+peculiarly pure blue; and her eyelashes were black, beautifully curved
+and of remarkable thickness.
+
+"Won't you sit down?" he said again, cutting short his thoughts with
+some confusion.
+
+"Thank you." She gravely accepted the proffered chair. But he saw that
+without any ostentation she drew her skirts aside as she passed him. The
+action displeased him unaccountably.
+
+"Well," he said, shortly, "what had Fraide to say?" He walked to the
+mantel-piece with his customary movement and stood watching her.
+The instinct towards hiding his face had left him. Her instant
+and uninterested acceptance of him almost nettled him; his own
+half-contemptuous impression of Chilcote came to him unpleasantly, and
+with it the first desire to assert his own individuality. Stung by the
+conflicting emotions, he felt in Chilcote's pockets for something to
+smoke.
+
+Eve saw and interpreted the action. "Are these your cigarettes?" She
+leaned towards a small table and took up a box made of lizard-skin.
+
+"Thanks." He took the box from her, and as it passed from one to the
+other he saw her glance at his rings. The glance was momentary; her
+lips parted to express question or surprise, then closed again without
+comment. More than any spoken words, the incident showed him the gulf
+that separated husband and wife.
+
+"Well?" he said again, "what about Fraide?"
+
+At his words she sat straighter and looked at him more directly, as if
+bracing herself to a task.
+
+"Mr. Fraide is--is as interested as ever in you," she began.
+
+"Or in you?" Loder made the interruption precisely as he felt Chilcote
+would have made it. Then instantly he wished the words back.
+
+Eve's warm skin colored more deeply; for a second the inscrutable
+underlying expression that puzzled him showed in her eyes, then she sank
+back into a corner of the chair.
+
+"Why do you make such a point of sneering at my friends?" she asked,
+quietly. "I overlook it when you are nervous." She halted slightly on
+the word. "But you are not nervous tonight."
+
+Loder, to his great humiliation, reddened. Except for an occasional
+outburst on the part of Mrs. Robins, his charwoman, he had not merited a
+woman's displeasure for years.
+
+"The sneer was unintentional," he said.
+
+For the first time Eve showed a personal interest. She looked at him in
+a puzzled way. "If your apology was meant," she said, hesitatingly, "I
+should be glad to accept it."
+
+Loder, uncertain of how to take the words, moved back to the desk. He
+carried an unlighted cigarette between his fingers.
+
+There was an interval in which neither spoke. Then, at last, conscious
+of its awkwardness, Eve rose. With one hand on the back of her chair,
+she looked at him.
+
+"Mr. Fraide thinks it's such a pity that"--she stopped to choose her
+words--"that you should lose hold on things--lose interest in things,
+as you are doing. He has been thinking a good deal about you in the last
+three weeks--ever since the day of your--your illness in the House;
+and it seems to him,"--again she broke off, watching Loder's averted
+head--"it seems to him that if you made one real effort now, even now,
+to shake off your restlessness, that your--your health might improve.
+He thinks that the present crisis would be"--she hesitated--"would give
+you a tremendous opportunity. Your trade interests, bound up as they
+are with Persia, would give any opinion you might hold a double weight."
+Almost unconsciously a touch of warmth crept into her words.
+
+"Mr. Fraide talked very seriously about the beginning of your career. He
+said that if only the spirit of your first days could come back--" Her
+tone grew quicker, as though she feared ridicule in Loder's silence.
+"He asked me to use my influence. I know that I have little--none,
+perhaps--but I couldn't tell him that, and so--so I promised."
+
+"And have kept the promise?" Loder spoke at random. Her manner and her
+words had both affected him. There was a sensation of unreality in his
+brain.
+
+"Yes," she answered. "I always want to do--what I can."
+
+As she spoke a sudden realization of the effort she was making struck
+upon him, and with it his scorn of Chilcote rose in renewed force.
+
+"My intention--" he began, turning to her. Then the futility of any
+declaration silenced him. "I shall think over what you say," he added,
+after a minute's wait. "I suppose I can't say more than that."
+
+Their eyes met and she smiled a little.
+
+"I don't believe I expected as much," she said. "I think I'll go now.
+You have been wonderfully patient." Again she smiled slightly, at the
+same time extending her hand. The gesture was quite friendly, but in
+Loder's eyes it held relief as well as friendliness; and when their
+hands met he noticed that her fingers barely brushed his.
+
+He picked up her cloak and carried it across the room. As he held the
+door open, he laid it quietly across her arm.
+
+"I'll think over what you've said," he repeated.
+
+Again she glanced at him as if suspecting sarcasm then, partly
+reassured, she paused. "You will always despise your opportunities, and
+I suppose I shall always envy them," she said. "That's the way with men
+and women. Good-night!" With another faint smile she passed out into the
+corridor.
+
+Loder waited until he heard the outer door close, then he crossed the
+room thoughtfully and dropped into the chair that she had vacated. He
+sat for a time looking at the hand her fingers had touched; then he
+lifted his head with a characteristic movement.
+
+"By Jove!" he said, aloud, "how cordially she detests tests him!"
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+Loder slept soundly and dreamlessly in Chilcote's canopied bed. To him
+the big room with its severe magnificence suggested nothing of the gloom
+and solitude that it held in its owner's eyes. The ponderous furniture,
+the high ceiling, the heavy curtains, unchanged since the days of
+Chilcote's grandfather, all hinted at a far-reaching ownership
+that stirred him. The ownership was mythical in his regard, and the
+possessions a mirage, but they filled the day. And, surely, sufficient
+for the day--
+
+That was his frame of mind as he opened his eyes on the following
+morning, and lay appreciative of his comfort, of the surrounding space,
+even of the light that filtered through the curtain chinks, suggestive
+of a world recreated. With day, all things seem possible to a healthy
+man. He stretched his arms luxuriously, delighting in the glossy
+smoothness of the sheets.
+
+What was it Chilcote had said? Better live for a day than exist for a
+lifetime! That was true; and life had begun. At thirty-six he was to
+know it for the first time.
+
+He smiled, but without irony. Man is at his best at thirty-six, he
+mused. He has retained his enthusiasms and shed his exuberances; he has
+learned what to pick up and what to pass by; he no longer imagines
+that to drain a cup one must taste the dregs. He closed his eyes and
+stretched again, not his arms only, but his whole body. The pleasure of
+his mental state insisted on a physical expression. Then, sitting up in
+bed, he pressed the electric bell.
+
+Chilcote's new valet responded.
+
+"Pull those curtains, Renwick!" he said. "What's the time?" He had
+passed the ordeal of Renwick's eyes the night before.
+
+The man was slow, even a little stupid. He drew back the curtains
+carefully, then looked at the small clock on the dressing-table. "Eight
+o'clock, sir. I didn't expect the bell so early, sir."
+
+Loder felt reproved, and a pause followed.
+
+"May I bring your cup of tea, sir?"
+
+"No. Not just yet. I'll have a bath first."
+
+Renwick showed ponderous uncertainty. "Warm, sir?" he hazarded.
+
+"No. Cold."
+
+Still perplexed, the man left the room.
+
+Loder smiled to himself. The chances of discovery in that quarter were
+not large. He was inclined to think that Chilcote had even overstepped
+necessity in the matter of his valet's dullness.
+
+He breakfasted alone, following Chilcote's habit, and after breakfast
+found his way to the study.
+
+As he entered, Greening rose with the same conciliatory haste that he
+had shown the night before.
+
+Loder nodded to him. "Early at work?" he said, pleasantly.
+
+The little man showed instant, almost ridiculous relief. "Good-morning,
+sir," he said; "you too are early. I rather feared your nerves troubled
+you after I left last night, for I found your letters still unopened
+this morning. But I am glad to see you look so well."
+
+Loder promptly turned his back to the light. "Oh, last night's letters!"
+he said. "To tell you the truth, Greening, my wife"--his hesitation was
+very slight--"my wife looked me up after you left, and we gossiped. I
+clean forgot the post." He smiled in an explanatory way as he moved to
+the desk and picked up the letters.
+
+With Greening's eyes upon him, there was no time for scruples. With
+very creditable coolness he began opening the envelopes one by one. The
+letters were unimportant, and he passed them one after another to the
+secretary, experiencing a slight thrill of authority as each left his
+hand. Again the fact that power is visible in little things came to his
+mind.
+
+"Give me my engagement-book, Greening," he said, when the letters had
+been disposed of.
+
+The book that Greening handed him was neat in shape and bound, like
+Chilcote's cigarette-case, in lizard-skin.
+
+As Loder took it, the gold monogram "J.C." winked at him in the bright
+morning light. The incident moved his sense of humor. He and the book
+were cooperators in the fraud, it seemed. He felt an inclination to wink
+back. Nevertheless, he opened it with proper gravity and skimmed the
+pages.
+
+The page devoted to the day was almost full. On every other line were
+jottings in Chilcote's irregular hand, and twice among the entries
+appeared a prominent cross in blue pencilling. Loder's interest
+quickened as his eye caught the mark. It had been agreed between them
+that only engagements essential to Chilcote's public life need be
+carried through during his absence, and these, to save confusion, were
+to be crossed in blue pencil. The rest, for the most part social claims,
+were to be left to circumstance and Loder's inclination, Chilcote's
+erratic memory always accounting for the breaking of trivial promises.
+
+But Loder in his new energy was anxious for obligations; the desire for
+fresh and greater tests grew with indulgence. He scanned the two
+lines with eagerness. The first was an interview with Cresham, one of
+Chilcote's supporters in Wark; the other an engagement to lunch with
+Fraide. At the idea of the former his interest quickened, but at thought
+of the latter it quailed momentarily. Had the entry been a royal command
+it would have affected him infinitely less. For a space his assurance
+faltered; then, by coincidence, the recollection of Eve and Eve's words
+of last night came back to him, and his mind was filled with a new
+sensation.
+
+Because of Chilcote, he was despised by Chilcote's wife! There was
+no denying that in all the pleasant excitement of the adventure that
+knowledge had rankled. It came to him now linked with remembrance of
+the slight, reluctant touch of her fingers, the faintly evasive dislike
+underlying her glance. It was a trivial thing, but it touched his pride
+as a man. That was how he put it to himself. It wasn't that he valued
+this woman's opinion--any woman's opinion; it was merely that it touched
+his pride. He turned again to the window and gazed out, the engagement
+book still between his hands. What if he compelled her respect? What if
+by his own personality cloaked under Chilcote's identity he forced her
+to admit his capability? It was a matter of pride, after all--scarcely
+even of pride; self-respect was a better word.
+
+Satisfied by his own reasoning, he turned back into the room.
+
+"See to those letters, Greening," he said. "And for the rest of the
+morning's work you might go on with your Khorasan notes. I believe we'll
+all want every inch of knowledge we can get in that quarter before we're
+much older. I'll see you again later." With a reassuring nod he crossed
+the room and passed through the door.
+
+He lunched with Fraide at his club, and afterwards walked with him to
+Westminster. The walk and lunch were both memorable. In that hour he
+learned many things that had been sealed to him before. He tasted his
+first draught of real elation, his first drop of real discomfiture.
+He saw for the first time how a great man may condescend--how
+unostentatiously, how fully, how delightfully. He felt what tact and
+kindness perfectly combined may accomplish, and he burned inwardly with
+a sense of duplicity that crushed and elated him alternately. He was
+John Loder, friendless, penniless, with no present and no future, yet he
+walked down Whitehall in the full light of day with one of the greatest
+statesmen England has known.
+
+Some strangers were being shown over the Terrace when he and Fraide
+reached the House, and, noticing the open door, the old man paused.
+
+"I never refuse fresh air," he said. "Shall we take another breath of it
+before settling down?" He took Loder's arm and drew him forward. As they
+passed through the door-way the pressure of his fingers tightened. "I
+shall reckon to-day among my pleasantest memories, Chilcote," he said,
+gravely. "I can't explain the feeling, but I seem to have touched Eve's
+husband--the real you, more closely this morning than I ever did before.
+It has been a genuine happiness." He looked up with the eyes that,
+through all his years of action and responsibility, had remained so
+bright.
+
+But Loder paled suddenly, and his glance turned to the river-wide,
+mysterious, secret. Unconsciously Fraide had stripped the illusion. It
+was not John Loder who walked here; it was Chilcote--Chilcote with his
+position, his constituency--his wife. He half extricated his arm, but
+Fraide held it.
+
+"No," he said. "Don't draw away from me. You have always been too ready
+to do that. It is not often I have a pleasant truth to tell. I won't be
+deprived of the enjoyment."
+
+"Can the truth ever be pleasant, sir?" Involuntarily Loder echoed
+Chilcote.
+
+Fraide looked up. He was half a head shorter than his companion, though
+his dignity concealed the fact. "Chilcote," he said, seriously, "give
+up cynicism! It is the trade-mark of failure, and I do not like it in my
+friends."
+
+Loder said nothing. The quiet insight of the reproof, its mitigating
+kindness, touched him sharply. In that moment he saw the rails down
+which he had sent his little car of existence spinning, and the sight
+daunted him. The track was steeper, the gauge narrower, than he had
+guessed; there were curves and sidings upon which he had not reckoned.
+He turned his head and met Fraide's glance.
+
+"Don't count too much on me, sir," he said, slowly. "I might disappoint
+you again." His voice broke off on the last word, for the sound of other
+voices and of laughter came to them across the Terrace as a group of
+two women and three men passed through the open door. At a glance he
+realized that the slighter of the two women was Eve.
+
+Seeing them, she disengaged herself from her party and came quickly
+forward. He saw her cheeks flush and her eyes brighten pleasantly as
+they rested on his companion; but he noticed also that after her first
+cursory glance she avoided his own direction.
+
+As she came towards them, Fraide drew away his hand in readiness to
+greet her.
+
+"Here comes my godchild!" he said. "I often wish, Chilcote, that I could
+do away with the prefix." He added the last words in an undertone as he
+reached them; then he responded warmly to her smile.
+
+"What!" he said. "Turning the Terrace into the Garden of Eden in
+January! We cannot allow this."
+
+Eve laughed. "Blame Lady Sarah!" she said. "We met at lunch, and she
+carried me off. Needless to say I hadn't to ask where."
+
+They both laughed, and Loder joined, a little uncertainly. He had yet to
+learn that the devotion of Fraide and his wife was a long-standing jest
+in their particular set.
+
+At the sound of his tardy laugh Eve turned to him. "I hope I didn't rob
+you of all sleep last night," she said. "I caught him in his den,"
+she explained, turning to Fraide, "and invaded it most courageously. I
+believe we talked till two."
+
+Again Loder noticed bow quickly she looked from him to Fraide. The
+knowledge roused his self-assertion.
+
+"I had an excellent night," he said. "Do I look as if I hadn't slept?"
+
+Somewhat slowly and reluctantly Eve looked back. "No," she said,
+truthfully, and with a faint surprise that to Loder seemed the first
+genuine emotion she had shown regarding him. "No, I don't think I ever
+saw you look so well." She was quite unconscious and very charming as
+she made the admission. It struck Loder that her coloring of hair and
+eyes gained by daylight--were brightened and vivified by their setting
+of sombre river and sombre stone.
+
+Fraide smiled at her affectionately; then looked at Loder. "Chilcote
+has got anew lease of nerves, Eve," he said, quietly. "And I--believe--I
+have got a new henchman. But I see my wife beckoning to me. I must have
+a word with her before she flits away. May I be excused?" He made a
+courteous gesture of apology; then smiled at Eve.
+
+She looked after him as he moved away. "I sometimes wonder what I
+should do if anything were to happen to the Fraides," she said, a
+little wistfully. Then almost at once she laughed, as if regretting her
+impulsiveness. "You heard what he said," she went on, in a different
+voice. "Am I really to congratulate you?"
+
+The change of tone stung Loder unaccountably. "Will you always
+disbelieve in me?" he asked.
+
+Without answering, she walked slowly across the deserted Terrace and,
+pausing by the parapet, laid her hand on the stonework. Still in silence
+she looked out across the river.
+
+Loder had followed closely. Again her aloofness seemed a challenge.
+"Will you always disbelieve in me?" he repeated.
+
+At last she looked up at him, slowly.
+
+"Have you ever given me cause to believe!" she asked, in a quiet voice.
+
+To this truth he found no answer, though the subdued incredulity nettled
+him afresh.
+
+Prompted to a further effort, he spoke again. "Patience is necessary
+with every person and every circumstance," he said. "We've all got to
+wait and see."
+
+She did not lower her gaze as he spoke; and there seemed to him
+something disconcerting in the clear, candid blue of her eyes. With
+a sudden dread of her next words, he moved forward and laid his hand
+beside hers on the parapet.
+
+"Patience is needed for every one," he repeated, quickly. "Sometimes a
+man is like a bit of wreckage; he drifts till some force stronger than
+himself gets in his way and stops him." He looked again at her face. He
+scarcely knew what he was saying; he only felt that he was a man in an
+egregiously false position, trying stupidly to justify himself. "Don't
+you believe that flotsam can sometimes be washed ashore?" he asked.
+
+High above them Big Ben chimed the hour.
+
+Eve raised her head. It almost seemed to him that he could see her
+answer trembling on her lips; then the voice of Lady Sarah Fraide came
+cheerfully from behind them.
+
+
+"Eve!" she called. "Eve! We must fly. It's absolutely three o'clock!"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+In the days that followed Fraide's marked adoption of him Loder behaved
+with a discretion that spoke well for his qualities. Many a man placed
+in the same responsible, and yet strangely irresponsible, position might
+have been excused if, for the time at least, he gave himself a loose
+rein. But Loder kept free of the temptation.
+
+Like all other experiments, his showed unlooked-for features when put
+to a working test. Its expected difficulties smoothed themselves away,
+while others, scarcely anticipated, came into prominence. Most notable
+of all, the physical likeness between himself and Chilcote, the bedrock
+of the whole scheme, which had been counted upon to offer most danger,
+worked without a hitch. He stood literally amazed before the sweeping
+credulity that met him on every hand. Men who had known Chilcote from
+his youth, servants who had been in his employment for years, joined
+issue in the unquestioning acceptance. At times the ease of the
+deception bewildered him; there were moments when he realized that,
+should circumstances force him to a declaration of the truth, he would
+not be believed. Human nature prefers its own eyesight to the testimony
+of any man.
+
+But in face of this astonishing success he steered a steady course. In
+the first exhilaration of Fraide's favor, in the first egotistical wish
+to break down Eve's scepticism, he might possibly have plunged into the
+vortex of action, let it be in what direction it might; but fortunately
+for himself, for Chilcote, and for their scheme, he was liable to
+strenuous second thoughts--those wise and necessary curbs that go
+further to the steadying of the universe than the universe guesses.
+Sitting in the quiet of the House, on the same day that he had spoken
+with Eve on the Terrace, he had weighed possibilities slowly and
+cautiously. Impressed to the full by the atmosphere of the place that
+in his eyes could never lack character, however dull its momentary
+business, however prosy the voice that filled it, he had sifted impulse
+from expedience, as only a man who has lived within himself can sift and
+distinguish. And at the close of that first day his programme bad been
+formed. There must be no rush, no headlong plunge, he had decided;
+things must work round. It was his first expedition into the new
+country, and it lay with fate to say whether it would be his last.
+
+He had been leaning back in his seat, his eyes on the ministers
+opposite, his arms folded in imitation of Chilcote's most natural
+attitude, when this final speculation had come to him; and as it came
+his lips had tightened for a moment and his face become hard and cold.
+It is an unpleasant thing when a man first unconsciously reckons on the
+weakness of another, and the look that expresses the idea is not good
+to see. He had stirred uneasily; then his lips had closed again. He was
+tenacious by nature, and by nature intolerant of weakness. At the first
+suggestion of reckoning upon Chilcote's lapses, his mind had drawn back
+in disgust; but as the thought came again the disgust had lessened.
+
+In a week--two weeks, perhaps--Chilcote would reclaim his place. Then
+would begin the routine of the affair. Chilcote, fresh from indulgence
+and freedom, would find his obligations a thousand times more irksome
+than before; he would struggle for a time; then--
+
+A shadowy smile had touched Loder's lips as the idea formed itself.
+
+Then would come the inevitable recall; then in earnest he might venture
+to put his hand to the plough. He never indulged in day-dreams, but
+something in the nature of a vision had flashed over his mind in that
+instant. He had seen himself standing in that same building, seen the
+rows of faces first bored, then hesitatingly transformed under his
+personal domination, under the one great power he knew himself to
+possess--the power of eloquence. The strength of the suggestion had been
+almost painful. Men who have attained self-repression are occasionally
+open to a perilous onrush of feeling. Believing that they know
+themselves, they walk boldly forward towards the high-road and the
+pitfall alike.
+
+These had been Loder's disconnected ideas and speculations on the first
+day of his new life. At four o'clock on the ninth day he was pacing with
+quiet confidence up and down Chilcote's study, his mind pleasantly
+busy and his cigar comfortably alight, when he paused in, his walk and
+frowned, interrupted by the entrance of a servant.
+
+The man came softly into the room, drew a small table towards the fire,
+and proceeded to lay an extremely fine and unserviceable-looking cloth.
+
+Loder watched him in silence. He had grown to find silence a very useful
+commodity. To wait and let things develop was the attitude he oftenest
+assumed. But on this occasion he was perplexed. He had not rung for
+tea, and in any case a cup on a salver satisfied his wants. He looked
+critically at the fragile cloth.
+
+Presently the servant departed, and solemnly reentered carrying a
+silver tray, with cups, a teapot, and cakes. Having adjusted them to his
+satisfaction, he turned to Loder.
+
+"Mrs. Chilcote will be with you in five minutes, sir," he said.
+
+He waited for some response, but Loder gave none. Again he had found
+the advantages of silence, but this time it was silence of a compulsory
+kind. He had nothing to say.
+
+The man, finding him irresponsive, retired; and, left to himself, Loder
+stared at the array of feminine trifles; then, turning abruptly, he
+moved to the centre of the room.
+
+Since the day they had talked on the Terrace, he had only seen Eve
+thrice, and always in the presence e others. Since the night of his
+first coming, she has not invaded his domain, and he wondered what this
+new departure might mean.
+
+His thought of her had been less vivid in the last few days; for, though
+still using steady discretion, he had been drawn gradually nearer the
+fascinating whirlpool of new interests and new work. Shut his eyes as
+he might, there was no denying that this moment, so personally vital to
+him, was politically vital to the whole country; and that by a curious
+coincidence Chilcote's position well-nigh forced him to take an active
+interest in the situation. Again and again the suggestion had arisen
+that--should the smouldering fire in Persia break into a flame,
+Chilcote's commercial interests would facilitate, would practically
+compel, his standing in in the campaign against the government.
+
+The little incident of the tea-table, recalling the social side of his
+obligations, had aroused the realization of greater things. As he stood
+meditatively in the middle of the room he saw suddenly how absorbed
+he had become in these greater things. How, in the swing of congenial
+interests, he had been borne insensibly forward--his capacities
+expanding, his intelligence asserting itself. He had so undeniably found
+his sphere that the idea of usurpation had receded gently as by natural
+laws, until his own personality had begun to color the day's work.
+
+As this knowledge came, he wondered quickly if it held a solution of
+the present little comedy; if Eve had seen what others, he knew, had
+observed--that Chilcote was showing a grasp of things that he had not
+exhibited for years. Then, as a sound of skirts came softly down the
+corridor, he squared his shoulders with his habitual abrupt gesture and
+threw his cigar into the fire.
+
+Eve entered the room much as she had done on her former visit, but with
+one difference. In passing Loder she quietly held out her hand.
+
+He took it as quietly. "Why am I so honored?" he said.
+
+She laughed a little and looked across at the fire. "How like a man! You
+always want to begin with reasons. Let's have tea first and explanations
+after." She moved forward towards the table, and he followed. As he did
+so, it struck him that her dress seemed in peculiar harmony with the day
+and the room, though beyond that he could not follow its details. As she
+paused beside the table he drew forward a chair with a faint touch of
+awkwardness.
+
+She thanked him and sat down.
+
+He watched her in silence as she poured out the tea, and the thought
+crossed his mind that it was incredibly long since he had seen a woman
+preside over a meal. The deftness of her fingers filled him with an
+unfamiliar, half-inquisitive wonder. So interesting was the sensation
+that, when she held his cup towards him, he didn't immediately see it.
+
+"Don't you want any?" She smiled a little.
+
+He started, embarrassed by his own tardiness. "I'm afraid I'm dull," he
+said. "I've been so--"
+
+"So keen a worker in the last week?"
+
+For a moment he felt relieved. Then, as a fresh silence fell, his sense
+of awkwardness returned. He sipped his tea and ate a biscuit. He found
+himself wishing, for almost the first time, for some of the small
+society talk that came so pleasantly to other men. He felt that the
+position was ridiculous. He glanced at Eve's averted head, and laid his
+empty cup upon the table.
+
+Almost at once she turned, and their eyes met.
+
+"John," she said, "do you guess at all why I wanted to have tea with
+you?"
+
+He looked down at her. "No," he said, honestly and without
+embellishment.
+
+The curtness of the answer might have displeased another woman. Eve
+seemed to take no offence.
+
+"I had a talk with the Fraides to-day," she said "A long talk. Mr.
+Fraide said great things of you--things I wouldn't have believed from
+anybody but Mr. Fraide." She altered her position and looked from
+Loder's face back into the fire.
+
+He took a step forward. "What things?" he said. He was almost ashamed of
+the sudden, inordinate satisfaction that welled up at her words.
+
+"Oh, I mustn't tell you!" She laughed a little. "But you have surprised
+him." She paused, sipped her tea, then looked up again with a change of
+expression.
+
+"John," she said, more seriously, "there is one point that sticks
+a little. Will this great change last?" Her voice was direct and
+even--wonderfully direct for a woman, Loder thought. It came to him with
+a certain force that beneath her remarkable charm might possibly lie a
+remarkable character. It was not a possibility that had occurred to him
+before, and it caused him to look at her a second time. In the new
+light he saw her beauty differently, and it interested him differently.
+Heretofore he had been inclined to class women under three heads--idols,
+amusements, or encumbrances; now it crossed his mind that a woman might
+possibly fill another place--the place of a companion.
+
+"You are very sceptical," he said, still looking down at her.
+
+She did not return his glance. "I think I have been made sceptical," she
+said.
+
+As she spoke the image of Chilcote shot through his mind. Chilcote,
+irritable, vicious, unstable, and a quick compassion for this woman so
+inevitably shackled to him followed it.
+
+Eve, unconscious of what was passing in his mind, went on with her
+subject.
+
+"When we were married," she said, gently, "I had such a great interest
+in things, such a great belief in life. I had lived in politics, and I
+was marrying one of the coming men--everybody said you were one of the
+coming men--I scarcely felt there was anything left to ask for. You
+didn't make very ardent love," she smiled, "but I think I had forgotten
+about love. I wanted nothing so much as to be like Lady Sarah--married
+to a great man." She paused, then went on more hurriedly: "For a while
+things went right; then slowly things, went wrong. You got your--your
+nerves."
+
+Loder changed his position with something of abruptness.
+
+She misconstrued the action.
+
+"Please don't think I want to be disagreeable," she said, hastily. "I
+don't. I'm only trying to make you understand why--why I lost heart."
+
+"I think I know," Loder's voice broke in involuntarily. "Things got
+worse--then still worse. You found interference useless. At last you
+ceased to have a husband."
+
+"Until a week ago." She glanced up quickly. Absorbed in her own
+feelings, she had seen nothing extraordinary in his words.
+
+But at hers, Loder changed color.
+
+"It's the most incredible thing in the world," she said. "It's quite
+incredible, and yet I can't deny it. Against all my reason, all my
+experience, all my inclination I seem to feel in the last week something
+of what I felt at first." She stopped with an embarrassed laugh. "It
+seems that, as if by magic, life has been picked up where I dropped it
+six years ago." Again she stopped and laughed.
+
+Loder was keenly uncomfortable, but he could think of nothing to say.
+
+"It seemed to begin that night I dined with the Fraides," she went
+on. "Mr. Fraide talked so wisely and so kindly about many things. He
+recalled all we had hoped for in you; and--and he blamed me a little."
+She paused and laid her cup aside. "He said that when people have made
+what they call their last effort, they should always make just one
+effort more. He promised that if I could once persuade you to take an
+interest in your work, he would do the rest. He said all that, and a
+thousand other kinder things--and I sat and listened. But all the time I
+thought of nothing but their uselessness. Before I left I promised to
+do my best--but my thought was still the same. It was stronger than ever
+when I forced myself to come up here--" She paused again, and glanced at
+Loder's averted head. "But I came, and then--as if by conquering myself
+I had compelled a reward, you seemed--you somehow seemed different. It
+sounds ridiculous, I know." Her voice was half amused, half deprecating.
+"It wasn't a difference in your face, though I knew directly that you
+were free from--nerves." Again she hesitated over the word. "It was a
+difference in yourself, in the things you said, more than in the way you
+said them." Once more she paused and laughed a little.
+
+Loder's discomfort grew.
+
+"But it didn't affect me then." She spoke more slowly. "I wouldn't admit
+it then. And the next day when we talked on the Terrace I still refused
+to admit it--though I felt it more strongly than before. But I have
+watched you since that day, and I know there is a change. Mr. Fraide
+feels the same, and he is never mistaken. I know it's only nine or ten
+days, but I've hardly seen you in the same mood for nine or ten hours in
+the last three years." She stopped, and the silence was expressive. It
+seemed to plead for confirmation of her instinct.
+
+Still Loder could find no response.
+
+After waiting for a moment, she leaned forward in her chair and looked
+up at him.
+
+"John," she said, "is it going to last? That's what I came to ask.
+I don't want to believe till I'm sure; I don't want to risk a new
+disappointment." Loder felt the earnestness of her gaze, though he
+avoided meeting it.
+
+"I couldn't have said this to you a week ago, but to-day I can. I don't
+pretend to explain why--the feeling is too inexplicable. I only
+know that I can say it now, and that I couldn't a week ago. Will you
+understand--and answer?"
+
+Still Loder remained mute. His position was horribly incongruous. What
+could he say? What dared he say?
+
+Confused by his silence, Eve rose.
+
+"If it's only a phase, don't try to hide it," she said. "But if it's
+going to last--if by any possibility it's going to last--" She hesitated
+and looked up.
+
+She was quite close to him. He would have been less than man had he been
+unconscious of the subtle contact of her glance, the nearness of her
+presence--and no one had ever hinted that manhood was lacking in him. It
+was a moment of temptation. His own energy, his own intentions, seemed
+so near; Chilcote and Chilcote's claims so distant and unreal. After
+all, his life, his ambitions, his determinations, were his own. He
+lifted his eyes and looked at her.
+
+"You want me to tell you that I will go on?" he said.
+
+Her eyes brightened; she took a step forward. "Yes," she said, "I want
+it more than anything in the world."
+
+There was a wait. The declaration that would satisfy her came to Loder's
+lips, but he delayed it. The delay, was fateful. While he stood silent
+the door opened and the servant who had brought in the tea reappeared.
+
+He crossed the room and handed Loder a telegram. "Any answer, sir?" he
+said.
+
+Eve moved back to her chair. There was a flush on her cheeks and her
+eyes were still alertly bright.
+
+Loder tore the telegram open, read it, then threw it Into the fire.
+
+"No answer!" he said, laconically.
+
+At the brusqueness of his voice, Eve looked up. "Disagreeable news?" she
+said, as the servant departed.
+
+He didn't look at her. He was watching the telegram withering in the
+centre of the fire.
+
+"No," he said at last, in a strained voice. "No. Only news that I--that
+I had forgotten to expect."
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+There was a silence--an uneasy break--after Loder spoke. The episode
+of the telegram was, to all appearances, ordinary enough, calling forth
+Eve's question and his own reply as a natural sequence; yet in the pause
+that followed it each was conscious of a jar, each was aware that in
+some subtle way the thread of sympathy had been dropped, though to one
+the cause was inexplicable and to the other only too plain.
+
+Loder watched the ghost of his message grow whiter and thinner, then
+dissolve into airy fragments and flutter up the chimney. As the last
+morsel wavered out of sight, he turned and looked at his companion.
+
+"You almost made me commit myself," he said. In the desire to hide his
+feelings his tone was short.
+
+Eve returned his glance with a quiet regard, but he scarcely saw it.
+He had a stupefied sense of disaster; a feeling of bitter
+self-commiseration that for the moment outweighed all other
+considerations. Almost at the moment of justification the good of life
+had crumbled in his fingers, the soil given beneath his feet, and with
+an absence of logic, a lack of justice unusual in him, he let resentment
+against Chilcote sweep suddenly over his mind.
+
+Eve, still watching him, saw the darkening of his expression, and with a
+quiet movement rose from her chair.
+
+"Lady Sarah has a theatre-party to-night, and I am dining with her," she
+said. "It is an early dinner, so I must think about dressing. I'm sorry
+you think I tried to draw you into anything. I must have explained
+myself badly." She laughed a little, to cover the slight discomfiture
+that her tone betrayed, and as she laughed she moved across the room
+towards the door.
+
+Loder, engrossed in the check to his own schemes, incensed at the
+suddenness of Chilcote's recall, and still more incensed at his own
+folly in not having anticipated it, was oblivious for the moment of
+both her movement and her words. Then, quite abruptly, they obtruded
+themselves upon him, breaking through his egotism with something of the
+sharpness of pain following a blow. Turning quickly from the
+fireplace, he faced the shadowy room across which she had passed, but
+simultaneously with his turning she gained the door.
+
+The knowledge that she was gone struck him with a sense of double
+loss. "Wait!" he called, suddenly moving forward. But almost at once he
+paused, chilled by the solitude of the room.
+
+"Eve!" he said, using her name unconsciously for the first time.
+
+But the corridor, as well as the room, was empty; he was too late.
+He stood irresolute; then he laughed shortly, turned, and passed back
+towards the fireplace.
+
+The blow had fallen, the inevitable come to pass, and nothing remained
+but to take the fact with as good a grace as possible. Chilcote's
+telegram had summoned him to Clifford's Inn at seven o'clock, and it was
+now well on towards six. He pulled out his watch--Chilcote's watch he
+realized, with a touch of grim humor as he stooped to examine the dial
+by the light of the fire; then, as if the humor had verged to another
+feeling, he stood straight again and felt for the electric button in the
+wall. His fingers touched it, and simultaneously the room was lighted.
+
+The abrupt alteration from shadow to light came almost as a shock. The
+feminine arrangement of the tea-table seemed incongruous beside the
+sober books and the desk laden with papers--incongruous as his own
+presence in the place. The thought was unpleasant, and he turned aside
+as if to avoid it; but at the movement his eyes fell on Chilcote's
+cigarette-box with its gleaming monogram, and the whimsical suggestion
+of his first morning rose again. The idea that the inanimate objects in
+the room knew him for what he was--recognized the interloper where human
+eyes saw the rightful possessor--returned to his mind. Through all his
+disgust and chagrin a smile forced itself to his lips, and, crossing the
+room for the second time, he passed into Chilcote's bedroom.
+
+There the massive furniture and sombre atmosphere fitted better with
+his mood than the energy and action which the study always suggested.
+Walking directly to the great bed, he sat on its side and for several
+minutes stared straight in front of him, apparently seeing nothing;
+then at last the apathy passed from him, as his previous anger against
+Chilcote had passed. He stood up slowly, drawing his long limbs
+together, and recrossed the room, passing along the corridor and through
+the door communicating with the rest of the house. Five minutes later he
+was in the open air and walking steadily eastward, his hat drawn forward
+and his overcoat buttoned up.
+
+As he traversed the streets he allowed himself no thought, Once, as he
+waited in Trafalgar Square to find a passage between the vehicles, the
+remembrance of Chilcote's voice coming out of the fog on their first
+night made itself prominent, but he rejected it quickly, guarding
+himself from even an involuntary glance at the place of their meeting.
+The Strand, with its unceasing life, came to him as something almost
+unfamiliar. Since his identification with the new life no business had
+drawn him east of Charing Cross, and his first sight of the narrower
+stream of traffic struck him as garish and unpleasant. As the impression
+came he accelerated his steps, moved by the wish to make regret and
+retrospection alike impossible by a contact with actual forces.
+
+Still walking hastily, he entered Clifford's Inn, but there almost
+unconsciously his feet halted. There was something in the quiet
+immutability of the place that sobered energy, both mental and physical.
+A sense of changelessness--the changelessness of inanimate things, that
+rises in such solemn contrast to the variableness of mere human nature,
+which a new environment, a new outlook, sometimes even a new presence,
+has power to upheave and remould. He paused; then with slower and
+steadier steps crossed the little court and mounted the familiar stairs
+of his own house.
+
+As he turned the handle of his own door some one stirred inside the
+sitting-room. Still under the influence of the stones and trees that he
+had just left, he moved directly towards the sound, and, without waiting
+for permission, entered the room. After the darkness of the passage it
+seemed well alight, for, besides the lamp with its green shade, a large
+fire burned in the grate and helped to dispel the shadows.
+
+As he entered the room Chilcote rose and came forward, his figure thrown
+into strong relief by the double light. He was dressed in a shabby tweed
+suit; his face looked pale and set with a slightly nervous tension, but
+besides the look and a certain added restlessness of glance there was no
+visible change. Reaching Loder, he held out his hand.
+
+"Well?" he said, quickly.
+
+The other looked at him questioningly.
+
+"Well? Well? How has it gone?"
+
+"The scheme? Oh, excellently!" Loder's manner was abrupt. Turning from
+the restless curiosity in Chilcote's eyes, he moved a little way across
+the room and began to draw off his coat. Then, as if struck by the
+incivility of the action, he looked back again. "The scheme has gone
+extraordinarily," he said. "I could almost say absurdly. There are some
+things, Chilcote, that fairly bowl a man over."
+
+A great relief tinged Chilcote's face. "Good!" he exclaimed. "Tell me
+all about it."
+
+But Loder was reticent. The moment was not propitious. It was as if
+a hungry man had dreamed a great banquet and had awakened to his
+starvation. He was chary of imparting his visions.
+
+"There's nothing to tell," he said, shortly. "All that you'll want
+to know is here in black and white. I don't think you'll find I have
+slipped anything; it's a clear business record." From an inner pocket
+he drew out a bulky note-book, and, recrossing the room, laid it open on
+the table. It was a correct, even a minute, record of every action that
+had been accomplished in Chilcote's name. "I don't think you'll find any
+loose ends," he said, as he turned back the pages. "I had you and your
+position in my mind all through." He paused and glanced up from the
+book. "You have a position that absolutely insists upon attention," he
+added, in a different voice.
+
+At the new tone Chilcote looked up as well. "No moral lectures!" he
+said, with a nervous laugh. "I was anxious to know if you had pulled
+it off--and you have reassured me. That's enough. I was in a funk
+this afternoon to know how things were going-one of those sudden,
+unreasonable funks. But now that I see you"--he cut himself short and
+laughed once more "now that I see you, I'm hanged if I don't want to--to
+prolong your engagement."
+
+Loder glanced at him, then glanced away. He felt a quick shame at
+the eagerness that rose at the words--a surprised contempt at his own
+readiness to anticipate the man's weakness. But almost as speedily as he
+had turned away he looked back again.
+
+"Tush, man!" he said, with his old, intolerant manner. "You're dreaming.
+You've had your holiday and school's begun again. You must remember you
+are dining with the Charringtons to-night. Young Charrington's coming of
+age--quite a big business. Come along! I want my clothes." He laughed,
+and, moving closer to Chilcote, slapped him on the shoulder.
+
+Chilcote started; then, suddenly becoming imbued with the other's
+manner, he echoed the laugh.
+
+"By Jove!" he said, "you're right! You're quite right! A man must keep
+his feet in their own groove." Raising his hand, he began to fumble with
+his tie.
+
+But Loder kept the same position. "You'll find the check-book in its
+usual drawer," he said. "I've made one entry of a hundred pounds--pay
+for the first week. The rest can stand over until--" He paused abruptly.
+
+Chilcote shifted his position. "Don't talk about that. It upsets me to
+anticipate. I can make out a check to-morrow payable to John Loder."
+
+"No. That can wait. The name of Loder is better out of the book. We
+can't be too careful." Loder spoke with unusual impetuosity. Already
+a slight, unreasonable jealousy was coloring his thoughts. Already
+he grudged the idea of Chilcote with his unstable glance and restless
+fingers opening the drawers and sorting the papers that for one
+stupendous fortnight had been his without question. Turning aside, he
+changed the subject brusquely.
+
+"Come into the bedroom," he said. "It's half-past seven if it's a
+minute, and the Charringtons' show is at nine." Without waiting for a
+reply, he walked across the room and held the door open.
+
+There was no silence while they exchanged clothes. Loder talked
+continuously, sometimes in short, curt sentences, sometimes with ironic
+touches of humor; he talked until Chilcote, strangely affected by
+contact with another personality after his weeks of solitude, fell under
+his influence--his excitement rising, his imagination stirring at the
+novelty of change. At last, garbed once more in the clothes of his own
+world, he passed from the bedroom back into the sitting-room, and there
+halted, waiting for his companion.
+
+Almost directly Loder followed. He came into the room quietly, and,
+moving at once to the table, picked up the note-book.
+
+"I'm not going to preach," he began, "so you needn't shut me up. But
+I'll say just one thing--a thing that will get said. Try and keep your
+hold! Remember your responsibilities--and keep your hold!" He spoke
+energetically, looking earnestly into Chilcote's eyes. He did not
+realize it, but he was pleading for his own career.
+
+Chilcote paled a little, as he always did in face of a reality. Then he
+extended his hand.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said, with a touch of hauteur, "a man can generally
+be trusted to look after his own life."
+
+Extricating his hand almost immediately, he turned towards the door and
+without a word of farewell passed into the little hall, leaving Loder
+alone in the sitting-room.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+On the night of Chilcote's return to his own, Loder tasted the lees of
+life poignantly for the first time. Before their curious compact had
+been entered upon he had been, if not content, at least apathetic; but
+with action the apathy had been dispersed, never again to regain its old
+position.
+
+He realized with bitter certainty that his was no real home-coming. On
+entering Chilcote's house he had experienced none of the unfamiliarity,
+none of the unsettled awkwardness, that assailed him now. There he had
+almost seemed the exile returning after many hardships; here, in the
+atmosphere made common by years, he felt an alien. It was illustrative
+of the man's character that sentimentalities found no place in his
+nature. Sentiments were not lacking, though they lay out of sight, but
+sentimentalities he altogether denied.
+
+Left alone in the sitting-room after Chilcote's departure, his first
+sensation was one of physical discomfort and unfamiliarity. His own
+clothes, with their worn looseness, brought no sense of friendliness
+such as some men find in an old garment. Lounging, and the clothes that
+suggested lounging, had no appeal for him. In his eyes the garb that
+implies responsibility was symbolic and even inspiring.
+
+And, as with clothes, so with his actual surroundings. Each detail of
+his room was familiar, but not one had ever become intimately close.
+He had used the place for years, but he had used it as he might use a
+hotel; and whatever of his household gods had come with him remained,
+like himself, on sufferance. His entrance into Chilcote's surroundings
+had been altogether different. Unknown to himself, he had been in the
+position of a young artist who, having roughly modelled in clay, is
+brought into the studio of a sculptor. To his outward vision everything
+is new, but his inner sight leaps to instant understanding. Amid all
+the strangeness he recognizes the one essential--the workshop, the
+atmosphere, the home.
+
+On this first night of return Loder comprehended something of his
+position; and, comprehending, he faced the problem and fought with it.
+
+He had made his bargain and must pay his share. Weighing this, he had
+looked about his room with a quiet gaze. Then at last, as if finding the
+object really sought for, his eyes had come round to the mantel-piece
+and rested on the pipe-rack. The pipes stood precisely as he had left
+them. He had looked at them for a long time, then an ironic expression
+that was almost a smile had touched his lips, and, crossing the room,
+he had taken the oldest and blackest from its place and slowly filled it
+with tobacco.
+
+With the first indrawn breath of smoke his attitude had unbent. Without
+conscious determination, he had chosen the one factor capable of easing
+his mood. A cigarette is for the trivial moments of life; a cigar for
+its fulfilments, its pleasant, comfortable retrospections; but in real
+distress--in the solving of question, the fighting of difficulty--a pipe
+is man's eternal solace,
+
+So he had passed the first night of his return to the actualities of
+life. Next day his mind was somewhat settled and outward aid was not
+so essential; but though facts faced him more solidly, they were
+nevertheless very drab in shade. The necessity for work, that blessed
+antidote to ennui, no longer forced him to endeavor. He was no longer
+penniless; but the money, he possessed brought with it no desires. When
+a man has lived from hand to mouth for years, and suddenly finds himself
+with a hundred pounds in his pocket, the result is sometimes curious. He
+finds with a vague sense of surprise that he has forgotten how to spend.
+That extravagance, like other artificial passions, requires cultivation.
+
+This he realized even more fully on the days that followed the night of
+his first return; and with it was born a new bitterness. The man who has
+friends and no money may find life difficult; but the man who has money
+and no friend to rejoice in his fortune or benefit by his generosity is
+aloof indeed. With the leaven of incredulity that works in all strong
+natures, Loder distrusted the professional beggar--therefore the charity
+that bestows easily and promiscuously was denied him; and of other
+channels of generosity he was too self-contained to have learned the
+secret.
+
+When depression falls upon a man of usually even temperament it
+descends with a double weight. The mercurial nature has a hundred
+counterbalancing devices to rid itself of gloom--a sudden lifting
+of spirit, a memory of other moods lived through, other blacknesses
+dispersed by time; but the man of level nature has none of these.
+Depression, when it comes, is indeed depression; no phase of mind to be
+superseded by another phase, but a slackening of all the chords of life.
+
+It was through such a depression as this that he labored during three
+weeks, while no summons and no hint of remembrance came from Chilcote.
+His position was peculiarly difficult. He found no action in the
+present, and towards the future he dared not trust himself to look. He
+had slipped the old moorings that familiarity had rendered endurable;
+but having slipped them, he had found no substitute. Such was his case
+on the last night of the three weeks, and such his frame of mind as he
+crossed Fleet Street from Clifford's Inn to Middle Temple Lane.
+
+It was scarcely seven o'clock, but already the dusk was falling; the
+greater press of vehicles had ceased, and the light of the street lamps
+gleamed back from the spaces of dry and polished roadway, worn smooth
+as a mirror by wheels and hoofs. Something of the solitude of night that
+sits so ill on the strenuous city street was making itself felt,
+though the throngs of people on the pathway still streamed eastward and
+westward and the taverns made a busy trade.
+
+Having crossed the roadway, Loder paused for a moment to survey the
+scene. But humanity in the abstract made small appeal to him, and his
+glance wandered from the passers-by to the buildings massed like clouds
+against the dark sky. As his gaze moved slowly from one to the other
+a clock near at hand struck seven, and an instant later the chorus was
+taken up by a dozen clamorous tongues. Usually he scarcely heard, and
+never heeded, these innumerable chimes; but this evening their effect
+was strange. Coming out of the darkness, they seemed to possess a
+personal note, a human declaration. The impression was fantastic, but
+it was strong; with a species of revolt against life and his own
+personality, he turned slowly and moved forward in the direction of
+Ludgate Hill.
+
+For a space he continued his course, then, reaching Bouverie Street,
+he turned sharply to the right and made his way down the slight incline
+that leads to the Embankment. There he paused and drew a long breath.
+The sense of space and darkness soothed him. Pulling his cap over
+his eyes, he crossed to the river and walked on in the direction of
+Westminster Bridge.
+
+As he walked the great mass, of water by his side looked dense and
+smooth as oil with its sweeping width and network of reflected light.
+On its farther bank rose the tall buildings, the chimneys, the flaring
+lights that suggest another and an alien London; close at hand stretched
+the solid stone parapet, giving assurance of protection.
+
+All these things he saw with his mental eyes, but with his mental
+eyes only, for his physical gaze was fixed ahead where the Houses of
+Parliament loomed out of the dusk. From the great building his eyes
+never wavered until the Embankment was traversed and Westminster Bridge
+reached. Then he paused, resting his arms on the coping of the bridge.
+
+In the tense quietude of the darkness the place looked vast and
+inspiring. The shadowy Terrace, the silent river, the rows of lighted
+windows, each was significant. Slowly and comprehensively his glance
+passed from one to the other. He was no sentimentalist and no dreamer;
+his act was simply the act of a man whose interests, robbed of their
+natural outlet, turn instinctively towards the forms and symbols of the
+work that is denied them. His scrutiny was steady--even cold. He was
+raised to no exaltation by the vastness of the building, nor was
+he chilled by any dwarfing of himself. He looked at it long and
+thoughtfully; then, again moving slowly, he turned and retraced his
+steps.
+
+His mind was full as he walked back, still oblivious of the stone
+parapet of the Embankment, the bare trees, and the flaring lights of the
+advertisements across the water. Turning to the left, he regained Fleet
+Street and made for his own habitation with the quiet accuracy that some
+men exhibit in moments of absorption.
+
+He crossed Clifford's Inn with the same slow, almost listless step;
+then, as his own doorway came into view, he stopped. Some one was
+standing in its recess.
+
+For a moment he wondered if his fancy were playing him a trick; then his
+reason sprang to certainty with so fierce a leap that for an instant his
+mind recoiled. For we more often stand aghast at the strength of our own
+feelings than before the enormity of our neighbor's actions.
+
+"Is that you, Chilcote?" he said, below his breath.
+
+At the sound of his voice the other wheeled round. "Hallo!" he said. "I
+thought you were the ghost of some old inhabitant. I suppose I am very
+unexpected?"
+
+Loder took the hand that he extended and pressed the fingers
+unconsciously. The sight of this man was like the finding of an oasis at
+the point where the desert is sandiest, deadliest, most unbearable.
+
+"Yes, you are--unexpected," he answered.
+
+Chilcote looked at him, then looked out into the court. "I'm done up,"
+he said. "I'm right at the end of the tether." He laughed as he said it,
+but in the dim light of the hall Loder thought his face looked ill
+and harassed despite the flush that the excitement of the meeting had
+brought to it. Taking his arm, he drew him towards the stairs.
+
+"So the rope has run out, eh?" he said, in imitation of the other's
+tone. But under the quiet of his manner his own nerves were throbbing
+with the peculiar alertness of anticipation; a sudden sense of mastery
+over life, that lifted him above surroundings and above persons--a sense
+of stature, mental and physical, from which he surveyed the world. He
+felt as if fate, in the moment of utter darkness, had given him a sign.
+
+As they crossed the hall, Chilcote had drawn away and was already
+mounting the stairs. And as Loder followed, it came sharply to his mind
+that here, in the slipshod freedom of a door that was always open and
+stairs that were innocent of covering, lay his companion's real
+niche--unrecognized in outward avowal, but acknowledged by the inward,
+keener sense that manifests the individual.
+
+In silence they mounted the stairs, but on the first landing Chilcote
+paused and looked back, surveying Loder from the superior height of two
+steps.
+
+"I did very well at first," he said. "I did very well--I almost
+followed your example, for a week or so. I found myself on a sort of
+pinnacle--and I clung on. But in the last ten days I've--I've rather
+lapsed."
+
+"Why?" Loder avoided looking at his face; he kept his eyes fixed
+determinately on the spot where his own hand gripped the banister.
+
+"Why?" Chilcote repeated. "Oh, the prehistoric tale--weakness stronger
+than strength. I'm-I'm sorry to come down on you like this, but it's the
+social side that bowls me over. It's the social side I can't stick."
+
+"The social side? But I thought--"
+
+"Don't think. I never think; it entails such a constant upsetting of
+principles and theories. We did arrange for business only, but one
+can't set up barriers. Society pushes itself everywhere nowadays--into
+business most of all. I don't want you for theatre-parties or dinners.
+But a big reception with a political flavor is different. A man has to
+be seen at these things; he needn't say anything or do anything, but
+it's bad form if he fails to show up."
+
+Loder raised his head. "You must explain," he said, abruptly.
+
+Chilcote started slightly at the sudden demand.
+
+"I--I suppose I'm rather irrelevant," he said, quickly. "Fact is,
+there's a reception at the Bramfells' to-night. You know Blanche
+Bramfell--Viscountess Bramfell, sister to Lillian Astrupp." His
+words conveyed nothing to Loder, but he did not consider that. All
+explanations were irksome to him and he invariably chafed to be done
+with them.
+
+"And you've got to put in an appearance--for party reasons?" Loder broke
+in.
+
+Chilcote showed relief. "Yes. Old Fraide makes rather a point of it--so
+does Eve." He said the last words carelessly; then, as if their sound
+recalled something, his expression changed. A touch of satirical
+amusement touched his lips and he laughed.
+
+"By-the-way, Loder," he said, "my wife was actually tolerant of me for
+nine or ten days after my return. I thought your representation was to
+be quite impersonal? I'm not jealous," he laughed. "I'm not jealous, I
+assure you; but the burned child shouldn't grow absentminded."
+
+At his tone and his laugh Loder's blood stirred; with a sudden,
+unexpected impulse his hand tightened on the banister, and, looking up,
+he caught sight of the face above him--his own face, it seemed, alight
+with malicious interest. At the sight a strange sensation seized him;
+his grip on the banister loosened, and, pushing past Chilcote, he
+hurriedly mounted the stairs.
+
+Outside his own door the other overtook him.
+
+"Loder!" he said. "Loder! I meant no harm. A man must have a laugh
+sometimes."
+
+But Loder was facing the door and did not turn round.
+
+A sudden fear shook Chilcote. "Loder!" he exclaimed again, "you wouldn't
+desert me? I can't go back to-night. I can't go back."
+
+Still Loder remained immovable.
+
+Alarmed by his silence, Chilcote stepped closer to him.
+
+"Loder! Loder, you won't desert me?" He caught hastily at his arm.
+
+With a quick repulsion Loder shook him off; then almost as quickly he
+turned round.
+
+"What fools we all are!" he said, abruptly. "We, only differ in degree.
+Come in, and let us change our clothes."
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+
+The best moments of a man's life are the moments when, strong in
+himself, he feels that the world lies before him. Gratified ambition
+may be the summer, but anticipation is the ardent spring-time of a man's
+career.
+
+As Loder drove that night frown Fleet Street to Grosvenor Square he
+realized this--though scarcely with any degree of consciousness--for he
+was no accomplished self-analyst. But in a wave of feeling too vigorous
+to be denied he recognized his regained foothold--the step that lifted
+him at once from the pit to the pinnacle.
+
+In that moment of realization he looked neither backward nor forward.
+The present was all-sufficing. Difficulties might loom ahead, but
+difficulties had but one object--the testing and sharpening of a man's
+strength. In the first deep surge of egotistical feeling he almost
+rejoiced in Chilcote's weakness. The more Chilcote tangled the threads
+of his life, the stronger must be the fingers that unravelled them. He
+was possessed by a great impatience; the joy of action was stirring in
+his blood.
+
+Leaving the cab, he walked confidently to the door of Chilcote's house
+and inserted the latch-key. Even in this small act there was a grain
+of individual satisfaction. Then very quietly he opened the door and
+crossed the hall.
+
+As he entered, a footman was arranging the fire that burned in the big
+grate. Seeing the man, he halted.
+
+"Where is your mistress?" he asked, in unconscious repetition of his
+first question in the same house.
+
+The man looked up. "She has just finished dinner, sir. She dined alone
+in her own room." He glanced at Loder in the quick, uncertain way that
+was noticeable in all the servants of the household when they addressed
+their master. Loder saw the look and wondered what depth of curiosity it
+betrayed, how much of insight into the domestic life that he must always
+be content to skim. For an instant the old resentment against Chilcote
+tinged his exaltation, but he swept it angrily aside. Without further
+remark he began to mount the stairs.
+
+Gaining the landing, he did not turn as usual to the door that shut
+off Chilcote's rooms, but moved onward down the corridor towards Eve's
+private sitting-room. He moved slowly till the door was reached; then
+he, paused and lifted his hand. There was a moment's wait while his
+fingers rested on the handle; then a sensation he could not explain--a
+reticence, a reluctance to intrude upon this one precinct--caused his,
+fingers to relax. With a slightly embarrassed gesture he drew back
+slowly and retraced his steps.
+
+Once in Chilcote's bedroom, he walked to the nearest bell and pressed
+it. Renwick responded, and at sight of him Loder's feelings warmed with
+the same sense of fitness and familiarity that the great bed and sombre
+furniture of the room had inspired.
+
+But the man did not come forward as he had expected. He remained close
+to the door with a hesitation that was unusual in a trained servant. It
+struck Loder that possibly his stolidity had exasperated Chilcote, and
+that possibly Chilcote had been at no pains to conceal the exasperation.
+The idea caused him to smile involuntarily.
+
+"Come into the room, Renwick," he said. "It's uncomfortable to see you
+standing there. I want to know if Mrs. Chilcote has sent me any message
+about to-night."
+
+Renwick studied him furtively as he came forward. "Yes, sir," he
+said. "Mrs. Chilcote's maid said that the carriage was ordered for
+ten-fifteen, and she hoped that would suit you." He spoke reluctantly,
+as if expecting a rebuke.
+
+At the opening sentence Loder had turned aside, but now, as the man
+finished, he wheeled round again and looked at him closely with his
+keen, observant eyes.
+
+"Look here," he said. "I can't have you speak to me like that. I may
+come down on you rather sharply when my--my nerves are bad; but when I'm
+myself I treat you--well, I treat you decently, at any rate. You'll
+have to learn to discriminate. Look at me now!" A thrill of risk and of
+rulership passed through him as he spoke. "Look at me now! Do I look as
+I looked this morning--or yesterday?"
+
+The man eyed him half stupidly, half timidly.
+
+"Well?" Loder insisted.
+
+"Well, sir," Renwick responded, with some slowness; "you look the
+same--and you look different. A healthier color, perhaps, sir--and
+the eye clearer." He grew more confident under Loder's half-humorous,
+half-insistent gaze. "Now that I look closer, sir--"
+
+Loder laughed. "That's it!" he said. "Now that you look closer. You'll
+have to grow observant: observation is an excellent quality in a
+servant. Wheat you come into a room in future, look first of all at
+me--and take your cue from that. Remember that serving a man with nerves
+is like serving two masters. Now you can go; and tell Mrs. Chilcote's
+maid that I shall be quite ready at a quarter-past ten."
+
+"Yes, sir. And after that?"
+
+"Nothing further. I sha'n't want you again to-night." He turned away as
+he spoke, and moved towards the great fire that was always kept alight
+in Chilcote's room. But as the man moved towards the door he wheeled
+back again. "Oh, one thing more, Renwick! Bring me some sandwiches and
+a whiskey." He remembered for the first time that he had eaten nothing
+since early afternoon.
+
+At a few minutes after ten Loder left Chilcote's room, resolutely
+descended the stairs, and took up his position in the hall. Resolution
+is a strong word to apply to such a proceeding, but something in his
+bearing, in the attitude of his shoulders and head, instinctively
+suggested it.
+
+Five or six minutes passed, but he waited without impatience; then at
+last the sound of a carriage stopping before the house caused him to
+lift his head, and at the same instant Eve appeared at the head of the
+staircase.
+
+She stood there for a second, looking down on him, her maid a pace or
+two behind, holding her cloak. The picture she made struck upon his mind
+with something of a revelation.
+
+On his first sight of her she had appealed to him as a strange blending
+of youth and self-possession--a girl with a woman's clearer perception
+of life; later he had been drawn to study her in other aspects--as a
+possible comrade and friend; now for the first time he saw her as a
+power in her own world, a woman to whom no man could deny consideration.
+She looked taller for the distance between them, and the distinction
+of her carriage added to the effect. Her black gown was exquisitely
+soft--as soft as her black hair; above her forehead was a cluster of
+splendid diamonds shaped like a coronet, and a band of the same stones
+encircled her neck. Loder realized in a glance that only the most
+distinguished of women could wear such ornaments and not have her beauty
+eclipsed. With a touch of the old awkwardness that had before assailed
+him in her presence, he came slowly forward as she descended the stairs.
+
+"Can I help you with your cloak?" he asked. And as he asked it,
+something like surprise at his own timidity crossed his mind.
+
+For a second Eve's glance rested on his face. Her expression was quite
+impassive, but as she lowered her lashes a faint gleam flickered
+across her eyes; nevertheless, her answer, when it came, was studiously
+courteous.
+
+"Thank you," she said, "but Marie will do all I want."
+
+Loder looked at her for a moment, then turned aside. He was not hurt by
+his rebuff; rather, by an interesting sequence of impressions, he was
+stirred by it. The pride that had refused Chilcote's help, and the
+self-control that had refused it graciously, moved him to admiration. He
+understood and appreciated both by the light of person experience.
+
+"The carriage is waiting, sir," Crapham's voice broke in.
+
+Loder nodded, and Eve turned to her maid. "That will do, Marie," she
+said. "I shall want a cup of chocolate when I get back--probably at one
+o clock." She drew her cloak about her shoulders and moved towards the
+door. Then she paused and looked back. "Shall we start?" she asked,
+quietly.
+
+Loder, still watching her, came forward at once. "Certainly," he said,
+with unusual gentleness.
+
+He followed her as she crossed the footpath, but made no further offer
+of help; and when the moment came he quietly took his place beside her
+in the carriage. His last impression, as the horses wheeled round, was
+of the open hall door--Crapham in his sombre livery and the maid in her
+black dress, both silhouetted against the dark background of the hall;
+then, as the carriage moved forward smoothly and rapidly, he leaned back
+in his seat and closed his eyes.
+
+During the first few moments of the drive there was silence. To Loder
+there was a strange, new sensation in this companionship, so close and
+yet so distant. He was so near to Eve that the slight fragrant scent
+from her clothes might almost have belonged to his own. The impression
+was confusing yet vaguely delightful. It was years since he had been so
+close to a woman of his own class--his own caste. He acknowledged the
+thought with a curious sense of pleasure. Involuntarily he turned and
+looked at her.
+
+She was sitting very straight, her fine profile cut clear against the
+carriage window, her diamonds quivering in the light that flashed
+by them from the street. For a space the sense of unreality that had
+pervaded his first entrance into Chilcote's life touched him again, then
+another and more potent feeling rose to quell it. Almost involuntarily
+as he looked at her his lips parted.
+
+"May I say something?" he asked.
+
+Eve remained motionless. She did not turn her head, as most women would
+have done. "Say anything you like," she said, gravely.
+
+"Anything?" He bent a little nearer, filled again by the inordinate wish
+to dominate.
+
+"Of course."
+
+It seemed to him that her voice sounded forced and a little tired. For
+a moment he looked through the window at the passing lights; then slowly
+his gaze returned to her face.
+
+"You look very beautiful to-night," he said. His voice was low and his
+manner unemotional, but his words had the effect he desired.
+
+She turned her head, and her eyes met his in a glance of curiosity and
+surprise.
+
+Slight as the triumph was, it thrilled him. The small scene with
+Chilcote's valet came back to him; his own personality moved him
+again to a reckless determination to make his own voice heard. Leaning
+forward, he laid his hand lightly on her arm.
+
+"Eve," he said, quickly--"Eve, do you remember?" Then he paused
+and withdrew his hand. The horses had slackened speed, then stopped
+altogether as the carriage fell into line outside Bramfell House.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+
+Loder entered Lady Bramfell's feeling far more like an actor in a drama
+than an ordinary man in a peculiar situation. It was the first time he
+had played Chilcote to a purely social audience, and the first time
+for many years that he had rubbed shoulders with a well-dressed crowd
+ostensibly brought together for amusement. As he followed Eve along the
+corridor that led to the reception-rooms he questioned the reality of
+the position again and again; then abruptly, at the moment when the
+sensation of unfamiliarity was strongest, a cheery voice hailed him,
+and, turning, he saw the square shoulders, light eyes, and pointed
+mustache of Lakeley, the owner of the 'St. George's Gazette'.
+
+At the sight of the man and the sound of his greeting his doubts and
+speculations vanished. The essentials of life rose again to the position
+they had occupied three weeks ago, in the short but strenuous period
+when his dormant activities had been stirred and he had recognized his
+true self. He lifted his head unconsciously, the shade of misgiving that
+had crossed his confidence passing from him as he smiled at Lakeley with
+a keen, alert pleasure that altered his whole face.
+
+Eve, looking back, saw the expression. It attracted and held her, like a
+sudden glimpse into a secret room. In all the years of her marriage, in
+the months of her courtship even, she had never surprised the look on
+Chilcote's face. The impression came quickly, and with it a strange,
+warm rush of interest that receded slowly, leaving an odd sense of
+loneliness. But, at the moment that the feeling came and passed, her
+attention was claimed in another direction. A slight, fair-haired boy
+forced his way towards her through the press of people that filled the
+corridor.
+
+"Mrs. Chilcote!" he exclaimed. "Can I believe my luck in finding you
+alone?"
+
+Eve laughed. It seemed that there was relief in her laugh. "How absurd
+you are, Bobby!" she said, kindly. "But you are wrong. My husband is
+here--I am waiting for him."
+
+Blessington looked round. "Oh!" he said. "Indeed!" Then he relapsed into
+silence. He was the soul of good-nature, but those who knew him best
+knew that Chilcote's summary change of secretaries had rankled. Eve,
+conscious of the little jar, made haste to smooth it away.
+
+"Tell me about yourself," she said. "What have you been doing?"
+
+Blessington looked at her, then smiled again, his buoyancy restored.
+"Doing?" he said. "Oh, calling every other afternoon at Grosvenor
+Square--only to find that a certain lady is never at home."
+
+At his tone Eve laughed again. The boy, with his frank and ingenuous
+nature, had beguiled many a dull hour for her in past days, and she had
+missed him not a little when his place had been filled by Greening.
+
+"But I mean seriously, Bobby. Has something good turned up?"
+
+Blessington made a wry face "Something is on its way--that's why I am on
+duty to-right. Old Bramfell and the pater are working it between
+them. So if Lady Bramfell or Lady Astrupp happen to drop a fan or a
+handkerchief this evening, I've got to be here to pick it up. See?"
+
+"As you picked up my fans and handkerchiefs last year--and the year
+before?" Eve smiled.
+
+Blessington's face suddenly looked grave. "I wish you hadn't said that,"
+he said. Then he paused abruptly. Out of the hum of talk behind them a
+man's laugh sounded. It was not loud, but it was a laugh that one seldom
+hears in a London drawing-room--it expressed interest, amusement, and in
+an inexplicable may it seemed also to express strength.
+
+Eve and Blessington both turned involuntarily.
+
+"By Jove!" said Blessington
+
+Eve said nothing.
+
+Loder was parting with Lakely, and his was the laugh that had attracted
+them both. The interest excited by his talk was still reflected in his
+face and bearing as he made his way towards them.
+
+"By Jove!" said Blessington again. "I never realized that Chilcote was
+so tall."
+
+Again Eve said nothing. But silently and with a more subtle meaning she
+found herself echoing the words.
+
+Until he was quite close to her, Loder did not seem to see her. Then he
+stopped quietly.
+
+"I was speaking to Lakely," he said. "He wants me to dine with him one
+night at Cadogan Gardens."
+
+But Eve was silent, waiting for him to address Blessington. She glanced
+at him quickly, but though their eyes met he did not catch the
+meaning that lay in hers. It was a difficult moment. She had known him
+incredibly, almost unpardonably, absent-minded, but it had invariably
+been when he was "suffering from nerves," as she phrased it to herself.
+But to-night he was obviously in the possession of unclouded faculties.
+She colored slightly and glanced under her lashes at Blessington. Had
+the same idea struck him, she wondered? But he was studiously studying a
+suit of Chinese armor that stood close by in a niche of the wall.
+
+"Bobby has been keeping me amused while you talked to Mr. Lakely," she
+said, pointedly.
+
+Directly addressed, Loder turned and looked at Blessington. "How d'you
+do?" he said, with doubtful cordiality. The name of Bobby conveyed
+nothing to him.
+
+To his surprise, Eve looked annoyed, and Blessington's fresh-colored
+face deepened in tone. With a slow, uncomfortable sensation he was aware
+of having struck a wrong note.
+
+There was a short, unpleasant pause. Then, more by intuition than actual
+sight, Blessington saw Eve's eyes turn from him to Loder, and with quick
+tact he saved the situation.
+
+"How d'you do, sir?" he responded, with a smile. "I congratulate you on
+looking so--so uncommon well. I was just telling Mrs. Chilcote that
+I hold a commission for Lady Astrupp to-night. I'm a sort of scout at
+present--reporting on the outposts." He spoke fast and without much
+meaning, but his boyish voice eased the strain.
+
+Eve thanked him with a smile. "Then we mustn't interfere with a person
+on active service," she said. "Besides, we have our own duties to get
+through."
+
+She smiled again, and, touching Loder's arm, indicated the
+reception-rooms.
+
+When they entered the larger of the two rooms Lady Bramfell was still
+receiving her guests. She was a tall and angular woman, who, except for
+a certain beauty of hands and feet and a certain similarity of voice,
+possessed nothing in common with her sister Lillian. She was speaking to
+a group of people as they approached, and the first sound of her
+sweet and rather drawling tones touched Loder with a curious momentary
+feeling--a vague suggestion of awakened memories. Then the suggestion
+vanished as she turned and greeted Eve.
+
+"How sweet of you to come!" she murmured. And it seemed to Loder that a
+more spontaneous smile lighted up her face. Then she extended her hand
+to him. "And you, too!" she added. "Though I fear we shall bore you
+dreadfully."
+
+Watching her with interest, he saw the change of expression as her eyes
+turned from Eve to him, and noticed a colder tone in her voice as she
+addressed him directly. The observation moved him to self-assertion.
+
+"That's a poor compliment to me," he said "To be bored is surely only a
+polite way of being inane."
+
+Lady Bramfell smiled. "What!" she exclaimed. "You defending your social
+reputation?"
+
+Loder laughed a little. "The smaller it is, the more defending it
+needs," he replied.
+
+Another stream of arrivals swept by them as he spoke; Eve smiled at
+their hostess and moved across the room, and he perforce followed. As he
+gained her side, the little court about Lady Bramfell was left well in
+the rear, the great throng at the farther end of the room was not yet
+reached, and for the moment they were practically alone.
+
+There was a certain uneasiness in that moment of companionship. It
+seemed to him that Eve wished to speak, but hesitated. Once or twice she
+opened and closed the fan that she was carrying, then at last, as if by
+an effort, she turned and looked at him.
+
+"Why were you so cold to Bobby Blessington?" she asked. "Doesn't it seem
+discourteous to ignore him as you did?"
+
+Her manner was subdued. It was not the annoyed manner that one uses to a
+man when he has behaved ill; it was the explanatory tone one might adopt
+towards an incorrigible child. Loder felt this; but the gist of a remark
+always came to him first, its mode of expression later. The fact that
+it was Blessington whom he had encountered--Blessington to whom he
+had spoken with vague politeness--came to him with a sense of
+unpleasantness. He was not to blame in the matter, nevertheless he
+blamed himself. He was annoyed that, he should have made the slip in
+Eve's presence.
+
+They were moving forward, nearing the press of people in the second
+room, when Eve spoke, and the fact filled him with an added sense of
+annoyance. People smiled and bowed to her from every side; one woman
+leaned forward as they passed and whispered something in her ear. Again
+the sensation of futility and vexation filled him; again he realized
+how palpable was the place she held in the world. Then, as his feelings
+reached their height and speech seemed forced upon him, a small man with
+a round face, catching a glimpse of Eve, darted from a circle of people
+gathered in one of the windows and came quickly towards them.
+
+With an unjust touch of irritation he recognized Lord Bramfell.
+
+Again the sense of Eve's aloofness stung him as their host approached.
+In another moment she would be lost to him among this throng of
+strangers--claimed by them as by right.
+
+"Eve--" he said, involuntarily and under his breath.
+
+She half paused and turned towards him. "Yes?" she said; and he wondered
+if it was his imagination that made the word sound slightly eager.
+
+"About that matter of Blessington--" he began. Then he stopped, Bramfell
+had reached them.
+
+The little man came up smiling and with an outstretched hand. "There's
+no penalty for separating husband and wife, is there, Mrs. Chilcote?
+How are you, Chilcote?" He turned from one to the other with the quick,
+noiseless manner that always characterized him.
+
+Loder turned aside to hide his vexation, but Eve greeted their host with
+her usual self-possessed smile.
+
+"You are exempt from all penalties to-night," she said. Then she turned
+to greet the members of his party who had strolled across from the
+window in his wake.
+
+As she moved aside Bramfell looked at Loder. "Well, Chilcote, have you
+dipped into the future yet?" he asked, with a laugh.
+
+Loder echoed the laugh but said nothing. In his uncertainty at the
+question he reverted to his old resource of silence.
+
+Bramfell raised his eyebrows. "What!" he said. "Don't tell me that my
+sister-in-law hasn't engaged you as a victim." Then he turned in Eve's
+direction. "You've heard of our new departure, Mrs. Chilcote?"
+
+Eve looked round from the lively group by which she was surrounded.
+"Lillian's crystal-gazing? Why, of course!" she said. "She should make a
+very beautiful seer. We are all quite curious."
+
+Bramfell pursed up his lips. "She has a very beautiful tent at the end
+of the conservatory. It took five men as many days to rig it up. We
+couldn't hear ourselves talk, for hammering. My wife said it made her
+feel quite philanthropic, it reminded her so much of a charity bazaar."
+
+Everybody laughed; and at the same moment Blessington came quickly
+across the room and joined the group.
+
+"Hallo!" he said. "Anybody seen Witcheston? He's next on my list for the
+crystal business."
+
+Again the whole party laughed, and Bramfell, stepping forward, touched
+Blessington's arm in mock seriousness.
+
+"Witcheston is playing bridge, like a sensible man," he said. "Leave him
+in peace, Bobby."
+
+Blessington made a comical grimace. "But I'm working this on commercial
+principles," he said. "I keep the list, names and hours complete, and
+Lady Astrupp gazes, in blissful ignorance as to who her victims are. The
+whole thing is great--simple and statistical."
+
+"For goodness' sake, Bobby, shut up!" Bramfell's round eyes were
+twinkling with amusement.
+
+"But my system--"
+
+"Systems! Ah, we all had them when we were as young as you are!"
+
+"And they all had flaws, Bobby," Eve broke in. "We were always finding
+gaps that had to be filled up. Never mind about Lord Witcheston. Get a
+substitute; it won't count--if Lillian doesn't know."
+
+Blessington wavered as she spoke. His eyes wandered round the party and
+again rested on Bramfell.
+
+"Not me, Bobby! Remember, I've breathed crystals--practically lived
+on them--for the last week. Now, there's Chilcote--" Again his eyes
+twinkled.
+
+All eyes were turned on Loder, though one or two strayed surreptitiously
+to Eve. She, seeming sensitive to the position, laughed quickly.
+
+"A very good idea!" she said. "Who wants to see the future, if not a
+politician?"
+
+Loder glanced from her to Blessington. Then, with a very feminine
+impulse, she settled the matter beyond dispute.
+
+"Please use your authority, Bobby," she said. "And when you've got
+him safely under canvas, come back to me. It's years since we've had
+a talk." She nodded and smiled, then instantly turned to Bramfell with
+some trivial remark.
+
+For a second Loder waited, then with a movement of resignation he laid
+his hand on Blessington's arm. "Very well!" he said. "But if my fate is
+black, witness it was my wife who sent me to it." His faint pause on
+the word wife, the mention of the word itself in the presence of these
+people, had a savor of recklessness. The small discomfiture of his
+earlier slip vanished before it; he experienced a strong reaction of
+confidence in his luck. With a cool head, a steady step, and a friendly
+pressure of the fingers on Blessington's arm, he allowed himself to be
+drawn across the reception-rooms, through the long corridors, and down
+the broad flight of steps that led to the conservatory.
+
+The conservatory was a feature of the Bramfell townhouse, and to Loder
+it came as something wonderful and unlooked-for--with its clustering
+green branches, its slight, unoppressive scents, its temperately
+pleasant atmosphere. He felt no wish to speak as, still guided by
+Blessington, he passed down the shadowy paths that in the half-light
+had the warmth and mystery of a Southern garden. Here and there from
+the darkness came the whispering of a voice or the sound of a laugh,
+bringing with them the necessary touch of life. Otherwise the place was
+still.
+
+Absorbed by the air of solitude, contrasting so remarkably with the
+noise and crowded glitter left behind in the reception-rooms, he had
+moved half-way down the long, green aisle before the business in hand
+came back to him with a sudden sense of annoyance. It seemed so paltry
+to mar the quiet of the place with the absurdity of a side-show. He
+turned to Blessington with a touch of abruptness.
+
+"What am I expected to do?" he asked.
+
+Blessington looked up, surprised. "Why, I thought, sir--" he began. Then
+he instantly altered his tone: "Oh, just enter into the spirit of the
+thing. Lady Astrupp won't put much strain on your credulity, but she'll
+make a big call on your solemnity." He laughed.
+
+He had an infectious laugh, and Loder responded to it.
+
+"But what am I to do?" he persisted.
+
+"Oh, nothing. Being the priestess, she, naturally demands acolytes; but
+she'll let you know that she holds the prior place. The tent is so
+fixed that she sees nothing beyond your hands; so there's absolutely no
+delusion." He laughed once more. Then suddenly he lowered his voice and
+slackened his steps. "Here we are!" he whispered, in pretended awe.
+
+At the end of the path the space widened to the full breadth of the
+conservatory. The light was dimmer, giving an added impression of
+distance; away to the left, Loder heard the sound of splashing water,
+and on his right hand he caught his first glimpse of the tent that was
+his goal.
+
+It was an artistic little structure--a pavilion formed of silky fabric
+that showed bronze in the light of an Oriental lamp that hung above its
+entrance. As they drew closer, a man emerged from it. He stood for a
+moment in uncertainty, looking about him; then, catching sight of them,
+he came forward laughing.
+
+"By George!" he exclaimed, "it's as dark as limbo in there! I didn't see
+you at first. But I say, Blessington, it's a beastly shame to have that
+thunder-cloud barrier shutting off the sorceress. If she gazes at the
+crystal, mayn't we have something to gaze at, too?"
+
+Blessington laughed. "You want too much, Galltry," he said. "Lady
+Astrupp understands the value of the unattainable. Come along, sir!" he
+added to Loder, drawing him forward with an energetic pressure of the
+arm.
+
+Loder responded, and as he did so a flicker of curiosity touched his
+mind for the first time. He wondered for an instant who this woman
+was who aroused so much comment. And with the speculation came the
+remembrance of how she had assured Chilcote that on one point, at
+least he was invulnerable. He had spoken then from the height of a past
+experience--an experience so fully passed that he wondered now if it had
+been as staple a guarantee as he had then believed. Man's capacity
+for outliving is astonishingly complete. The long-ago incident in the
+Italian mountains had faded, like a crayon study in which the tones
+have merged and gradually lost character. The past had paled before the
+present--as golden hair might pale before black. The simile came with
+apparent irrelevance. Then again Blessington pressed his arm.
+
+"Now, sir!" he said, drawing away and lifting the curtain that hung
+before the entrance of the tent.
+
+Loder looked at the amused, boyish face lighted by the hanging lamp, and
+smiled pleasantly; then, with a shrug of the shoulders, he entered the
+pavilion and the curtain fell behind him.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+
+On entering the pavilion, Loder's first feeling was one of annoyed
+awkwardness at finding himself in almost total darkness. But as his eyes
+grew accustomed to the gloom, the feeling vanished and the absurdity of
+the position came to his mind.
+
+The tent was small, heavily draped with silk and smelling of musk. It
+was divided into two sections by an immovable curtain that hung from the
+roof to within a few feet of the floor. The only furniture on Loder's
+side was one low chair, and the only light a faint radiance that, coming
+from the invisible half of the pavilion; spread across the floor in a
+pale band. For a short space he stood uncertain, then his hesitation was
+brought to an end.
+
+"Please sit down," said a low, soft voice.
+
+For a further moment he stood undecided. The voice sounded so
+unexpectedly near. In the quiet and darkness of the place it seemed
+to possess a disproportionate weight--almost the weight of a familiar
+thing. Then, with a sudden, unanalyzed touch of relief, he located the
+impression. It was the similarity to Lady Bramfell's sweet, slow tones
+that had stirred his mind. With a sense of satisfaction he drew the
+chair forward and sat down.
+
+Then, for the first time, he saw that on the other side of the gauze
+partition, and below it by a few inches, was a small table of polished
+wood, on which stood an open book, a crystal ball, and a gold dish
+filled with ink. These were arranged on the side of the table nearest
+to him, the farther side being out of his range of vision. An amused
+interest touched him as he made his position more comfortable. Whoever
+this woman was, she had an eye for stage management, she knew how to
+marshal her effects. He found himself waiting with some curiosity for
+the next injunction from behind the curtain.
+
+"The art of crystal-gazing," began the sweet, slow voice after a pause,
+"is one of the oldest known arts." Loder sat forward. The thought of
+Lady Bramfell mingled disconcertingly with some other thought more
+distant and less easy to secure.
+
+"To obtain the best results," went on the seer, "the subject lays his
+uncovered hands outspread upon a smooth surface." It was evident that
+the invisible priestess was reading from the open book, for when the
+word "surface" was reached there was a slight stir that indicated
+the changing of position; and when the voice came again it was in a
+different tone.
+
+"Please lay your hands, palms downward, upon the table."
+
+Loder smiled to himself in the darkness. He pictured Chilcote with
+his nerves and his impatience going through this ordeal; then in
+good-humored silence he leaned forward and obeyed the command. His hands
+rested on the smooth surface of the table in the bar of light from the
+unseen lamp.
+
+There was a second in which the seer was silent; then he fancied that
+she raised her head.
+
+"You must take off your rings," she said smoothly. "Any metal interferes
+with the sympathetic current."
+
+At any other time Loder would have laughed; but the request so
+casually and graciously made sent all possibility of irony far into
+the background. The thought of Chilcote and of the one flaw in their
+otherwise flawless scheme rose to his mind. Instinctively he half
+withdrew his hands.
+
+"Where is the sympathetic current?" he asked, quietly. His thoughts were
+busy with the question of whether he would or would not be justified in
+beating an undignified retreat.
+
+"Between you and me, of course," said the voice, softly. It sounded
+languid, but very rational. The idea of retreat seemed suddenly
+theatrical. In this world of low voices and shaded lights people never
+adopted extreme measures--no occasion made a scene practicable, or even
+allowable. He leaned back slowly, while he summed up the situation. If
+by any unlucky chance this woman knew Chilcote to have adopted jewelry
+and had seen the designs of his rings, the sight of his own scarred
+finger would suggest question and comment; if, on the other hand, he
+left the pavilion without excuse, or if, without apparent reason, he
+refused to remove the rings, he opened up a new difficulty--a fresh road
+to curiosity. It came upon him with unusual quickness--the obstacles
+to, and the need for, a speedy decision. He glanced round the tent, then
+unconsciously he straightened his shoulders. After all, he had stepped
+into a tight corner, but there was no need to cry out in squeezing
+his way back. Then he realized that the soft, ingratiating tones were
+sounding once more.
+
+"It's the passing of my hands over yours, while I look into the crystal,
+that sets up sympathy"--a slender hand moved swiftly into the light and
+picked up the ball--"and makes my eyes see the pictures in your mind.
+Now, will you please take off your rings?"
+
+The very naturalness of the request disarmed him. It was a risk. But, as
+Chilcote had said, risk was the salt of life!
+
+"I'm afraid you think me very troublesome." The voice came again,
+delicately low and conciliatory.
+
+For a brief second Loder wondered uncertainly how long or how well
+Chilcote knew Lady Astrupp; then he dismissed the question. Chilcote had
+never mentioned her until to-night, and then casually as Lady Bramfell's
+sister. What a coward he was becoming in throwing the dice with Fate!
+Without further delay he drew off the rings, slipped them into his
+pocket, and replaced his hands on the smooth table-top.
+
+Then, at the moment that he replaced them, a peculiar thing occurred.
+
+From the farther side of the dark partition came the quick, rustling
+stir of a skirt, and the slight scrape of a chair pushed either backward
+or forward. Then there was silence.
+
+Now, silence can suggest anything, from profound thought to imbecility;
+but in this case its suggestion was nil. That something had happened,
+that some change had taken place, was as patent to Loder as the darkness
+of the curtain or the band of light that crossed the floor, but what had
+occasioned it, or what it stood for, he made no attempt to decide. He
+sat bitingly conscious of his hands spread open on the table under
+the scrutiny of eyes that were invisible to him vividly aware of the
+awkwardness of his position. He felt with instinctive certainty that
+a new chord had been struck; but a man seldom acts on instinctive
+certainties. If the exposure of his hands had struck this fresh note,
+then any added action would but heighten the dilemma. He sat silent and
+motionless.
+
+Whether his impassivity had any bearing on the moment he had no way
+of knowing; but no further movement came from behind the partition.
+Whatever the emotions that had caused the sharp swish of skirts and the
+sharp scrape of the chair, they had evidently subsided or been dominated
+by other feelings.
+
+The next indication of life that came to him was the laying down of the
+crystal ball. It was laid back upon the table with a slight jerk that
+indicated a decision come to; and almost simultaneously the seer's voice
+came to him again. Her tone was lower now than it had been before,
+and its extreme ease seemed slightly shaken--whether by excitement,
+surprise, or curiosity, it was impossible to say.
+
+"You will think it strange--" she began. "You will think--" Then she
+stopped.
+
+There was a pause, as though she waited for some help, but Loder
+remained mute. In difficulty a silent tongue and a cool head are usually
+man's best weapons.
+
+His silence was disconcerting. He heard her stir again.
+
+"You will think it strange--" she began once more. Then quite suddenly
+she checked and controlled her voice. "You must forgive me for what I
+am going to say," she added, in a completely different tone, "but
+crystal-gazing is such an illusive thing. Directly you put your hands
+upon the table I felt that there would be no result; but I wouldn't
+admit the defeat. Women are such keen anglers that they can never
+acknowledge that any fish, however big, has slipped the hook." She
+laughed softly.
+
+At the sound of the laugh Loder shifted his position for the first time.
+He could not have told why, but it struck him with a slight sense of
+confusion. A precipitate wish to rise and pass through the doorway into
+the wider spaces of the conservatory came to him, though he made no
+attempt to act upon it. He knew that, for some inexplicable reason,
+this woman behind the screen had lied to him--in the controlling of her
+speech, in her charge of voice. There had been one moment in which an
+impulse or an emotion had almost found voice; then training, instinct,
+or it might have been diplomacy, had conquered, and the moment had
+passed. There was a riddle in the very atmosphere of the place--and he
+abominated riddles.
+
+But Lady Astrupp was absorbed in her own concerns. Again she changed her
+position; and to Loder, listening attentively, it seemed that she leaned
+forward and examined his hands afresh. The sensation was so acute that
+he withdrew them involuntarily.
+
+Again there was a confused rustle; the crystal ball rolled from the
+table, and the seer laughed quickly. Obeying a strenuous impulse, Loder
+rose.
+
+He had no definite notion of what he expected or what he must avoid. He
+was only conscious that the pavilion, with its silk draperies, its scent
+of musk, and its intolerable secrecy, was no longer endurable. He
+felt cramped and confused in mind and muscle. He stood for a second
+to straighten his limbs; then he turned, and, moving directly forward,
+passed through the portiere.
+
+After the dimness of the pavilion the conservatory seemed comparatively
+bright; but without waiting to grow accustomed to the altered light he
+moved onward with deliberate haste. The long, green alley, was speedily
+traversed; in his eyes it no longer possessed greenness, no longer
+suggested freshness or repose. It was simply a means to the end upon
+which his mind was set.
+
+As he passed up the flight of steps he drew his rings from his pocket
+and slipped them on again. Then he stepped into the glare of the
+thronged corridor.
+
+Some one hailed him as he passed through the crowd, but with Chilcote's
+most absorbed manner he hurried on. Through the door of the supper-room
+he caught sight of Blessington and Eve, and then for the first time his
+expression changed, and he turned directly towards them.
+
+"Eve," he said, "will you excuse me? I have a word to say to
+Blessington."
+
+She glanced at him in momentary surprise; then she smiled in her quiet,
+self-possessed way.
+
+"Of course!" she said. "I've been wanting a chat with Millicent Gower,
+but Bobby has required so much entertaining--" She smiled again, this
+time at Blessington, and moved away towards a pale girl in green who was
+standing alone.
+
+Instantly she had turned Loder took Blessington's arm.
+
+"I know you're tremendously busy," he began--in an excellent imitation
+of Chilcote's hasty manner--"I know you're tremendously busy, but I'm
+in a fix."
+
+One glance at Blessington's healthy, ingenuous face told him that plain
+speaking was the method to adopt.
+
+"Indeed, sir?" In a moment Blessington was on the alert.
+
+"Yes. And I--I want your help."
+
+The boy reddened. That Chilcote should appeal to him stirred him to an
+uneasy feeling of pride and uncertainty.
+
+Loder saw his advantage and pressed it home. "It's come about through
+this crystal-gazing business. I'm afraid I didn't play my part--rather
+made an ass of myself; I wouldn't swallow the thing, and--and Lady
+Astrupp--" He paused, measuring Blessington with a glance. "Well, my
+dear boy, you--you know what women are!"
+
+Blessington was only twenty-three. He reddened again, and assumed an air
+of profundity. "I know sir," he said, with a shake of the head.
+
+Loder's sense of humor was keen, but he kept a grave face. "I knew you'd
+catch my meaning; but I want you to do something more. If Lady Astrupp
+should ask you who was in her tent this past ten minutes, I want you--"
+Again he stopped, looking at his companion's face.
+
+"Yes, sir?"
+
+"I want you to tell an immaterial lie for me."
+
+Blessington returned his glance; then he laughed a little uncomfortably.
+"But surely, sir--"
+
+"She recognized me, you mean?" Loder's eyes were as keen as steel.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you're wrong. She didn't."
+
+Blessington's eyebrows went up.
+
+There was silence. Loder glanced across the room. Eve had parted from
+the girl in green and was moving towards them, exchanging smiles and
+greetings as she came.
+
+"My wife is coming back," he said. "Will you do this for me,
+Blessington? It--it will smooth things--" He spoke quickly, continuing
+to watch Eve. As he had hoped, Blessington's eyes turned in the same
+direction. "'Twill smooth matters," he repeated, "smooth them in--in a
+domestic way that I can't explain."
+
+The shot told. Blessington looked round.
+
+"Right, sir!" he said. "You may leave it to me," And before Loder could
+speak again he had turned and disappeared into the crowd.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+
+His business with Blessington over, Loder breathed more freely. If Lady
+Astrupp had recognized Chilcote by the rings, and had been roused
+to curiosity, the incident would demand settlement sooner or
+later--settlement in what proportion he could hazard no guess; if, on
+the other hand, her obvious change of manner had arisen from any other
+source he had a hazy idea that a woman's behavior could never be gauged
+by accepted theories--then he had safeguarded Chilcote's interests and
+his own by his securing of Blessington's promise. Blessington he knew
+would be reliable and discreet. With a renewal of confidence--a pleasant
+feeling that his uneasiness had been groundless--he moved forward to
+greet Eve.
+
+Her face, with its rich, clear coloring, seemed to his gaze to stand
+out from the crowd of other faces as from a frame, and a sense of pride
+touched him. In every eye but his own her beauty belonged to him.
+
+His face looked alive and masterful as she reached his side. "May I
+monopolize you?" he said, with the quickness of speech borrowed from
+Chilcote. "We see so little of each other."
+
+Almost as if compelled, her lashes lifted and her eyes met his. Her
+glance was puzzled, uncertain, slightly confused. There was a deeper
+color than usual in her cheeks. Loder felt something within his own
+consciousness stir in response.
+
+"You know you are yielding," he said.
+
+Again she blushed.
+
+He saw the blush, and knew that it was he--his words, his
+personality--that had called it forth. In Chilcote's actual semblance he
+had proved his superiority over Chilcote. For the first time he had been
+given a tacit, personal acknowledgment of his power. Involuntarily he
+drew nearer to her.
+
+"Let's get out of this crush."
+
+She made no answer except to bend her head; and it came to him that, for
+all her pride, she liked--and unconsciously yielded to--domination. With
+a satisfied gesture he turned to make a passage towards the door.
+
+But the passage was more easily desired than made. In the few
+moments since he had entered the supper-room the press of people had
+considerably thickened--until a block had formed about the door-way.
+Drawing Eve with him, he moved forward for a dozen paces, then paused,
+unable to make further headway.
+
+As they stood there, he looked back at her. "What a study in democracy a
+crowd always is!" he said.
+
+She responded with a bright, appreciative glance, as if surprised
+into naturalness. He wondered sharply what she would be like if her
+enthusiasms were really aroused. Then a stir in the corridor outside
+caused a movement inside the room; and with a certain display of
+persistence he was enabled to make a passage to the door.
+
+There again they were compelled to halt. But though tightly wedged into
+his new position and guarding Eve with one arm, Loder was free to survey
+the brilliantly thronged corridor over the head of a man a few inches
+shorter than himself, who stood directly in front of him.
+
+"What are we waiting for?" he asked, good humoredly, addressing the back
+of the stranger's head.
+
+The man turned, displaying a genial face, a red mustache, and an
+eye-glass.
+
+"Hullo, Chilcote!" he said. "Hope it's not on your feet I'm standing."
+
+Loder laughed. "No," he said. "And don't change the position. If you
+were an inch higher I should be blind as well as crippled."
+
+The other laughed. It was a pleasant surprise to find Chilcote amiable
+under discomfort. He looked round again in slight curiosity.
+
+Loder felt the scrutiny. To create a diversion he looked out along
+the corridor. "I believe we are waiting for something," he exclaimed.
+"What's this?" Then quite abruptly be ceased to speak.
+
+"Anything interesting?" Eve touched his arm.
+
+He said nothing; he made no effort to look round. His thought as well as
+his speech was suddenly suspended.
+
+The man in front of him let his eye-glass fall from his eye, then
+screwed it in again.
+
+"Jove!" he exclaimed. "Here comes our sorceress. It's like the progress
+of a fairy princess. I believe this is the meaning of our getting penned
+in here," he chuckled delightedly.
+
+Loder said nothing. He stared straight on over the other's head.
+
+Along the corridor, agreeably conscious of the hum of admiration
+she aroused, came Lillian Astrupp, surrounded by a little court. Her
+delicate face was lit up; her eyes shone under the faint gleam of her
+hair; her gown of gold embroidery swept round her gracefully. She was
+radiant and triumphant, but she was also excited. The excitement was
+evident in her laugh, in her gestures, in her eyes, as they turned
+quickly in one direction and then another.
+
+Loder, gazing in stupefaction over the other man's head, saw it--felt
+and understood it with a mind that leaped back over a space of years. As
+in a shifting panorama he saw a night of disturbance and confusion in a
+far-off Italian valley--a confusion from which one face shone out with
+something of the pale, alluring radiance that filtered over the hillside
+from the crescent moon. It passed across his consciousness slowly but
+with a slow completeness; and in its light the incidents of the past
+hour stood out in a new aspect. The echo of recollection stirred by
+Lady Bramfell's voice, the re-echo of it in the sister's tones; his own
+blindness, his own egregious assurance--all struck across his mind.
+
+Meanwhile the party about Lillian drew nearer. He felt with instinctive
+certainty that the supper-room was its destination, but he remained
+motionless, held by a species of fatalism. He watched her draw near with
+an unmoved face, but in the brief space that passed while she traversed
+the corridor he gauged to the full the hold that the new atmosphere, the
+new existence, had gained over his mind. With an unlooked-for rush of
+feeling he realized how dearly he would part with it.
+
+As Lillian came closer, the meaning of her manner became clearer to him.
+She talked incessantly, laughing now and then, but her eyes were never
+quiet. These skimmed the length of the corridor, then glanced over the
+heads crowded in the door-way.
+
+"I'll have something quite sweet, Geoffrey," she was saying to the man
+beside her, as she came within hearing. "You know what I like--a sort
+of snowflake wrapped up in sugar." As she said the words her glance
+wandered. Loder saw it rest uninterestedly on a boy a yard or two in
+front of him, then move to the man over whose head he gazed, then lift
+itself inevitably to his face.
+
+The glance was quick and direct. He saw the look of recognition spring
+across it; he saw her move forward suddenly as the crowd in the corridor
+parted to let her pass. Then he saw what seemed to him a miracle.
+
+Her whole expression altered, her lips parted, and she colored with
+annoyance. She looked like a spoiled child who, seeing a bonbon-box,
+opens it--to find it empty.
+
+As the press about the door-way melted to give her passage, the
+red-haired man in front of Loder was the first to take advantage of the
+space. "Jove! Lillian," he said, moving forward, "you look as if you
+expected Chilcote to be somebody else, and are disappointed to find he's
+only himself!" He laughed delightedly at his own joke.
+
+The words were exactly the tonic that Lillian needed. She smiled her
+usual undisturbed smile as she turned her eyes upon him.
+
+"My dear Leonard, you're using your eye-glass; when that happens you're
+never responsible for what you see." Her words came more slowly and with
+a touch of languid amusement. Her composure was suddenly restored.
+
+Then for the first time Loder changed his position. Moved by an impulse
+he made no effort to dissect, he stepped back to Eve's side and slipped
+his arm through hers--successfully concealing his left hand.
+
+The warmth of her skin through her long glove thrilled him unexpectedly.
+His impulse had been one of self-defence, but the result was of a
+different character. At the quick contact the wish to fight for--to hold
+and defend--the position that had grown so dear woke in renewed force.
+With a new determination he turned again towards Lillian.
+
+"I caught the same impression--without an eyeglass," he said. "Why did
+you look like that?" He asked the question steadily and with apparent
+carelessness, though, through it all, his reason stood aghast--his
+common-sense cried aloud that it was impossible for the eyes that
+had seen his face in admiration, in love, in contempt, to fail now in
+recognition. The air seemed breathless while he spoke and waited. His
+impression of Lillian was a mere shimmering of gold dress and gold hair;
+all that he was really conscious of was the pressure of his hand on
+Eve's arm and the warmth of her skin through the soft glove. Then,
+abruptly, the mist lifted. He saw Lillian's eyes--indifferent, amused,
+slightly contemptuous; and a second later he heard her voice.
+
+"My dear Jack," she said, sweetly, "how absurd of you! It was simply the
+contrast of your eyes peering over Leonard's hair It was like a gorgeous
+sunset with a black cloud overhead." She laughed. "Do you see what I
+mean, Eve?" She affected to see Eve for the first time.
+
+Eve had been looking calmly ahead. She turned now and smiled serenely.
+Loder felt no vibration of the arm he held, yet by an instant intuition
+he knew that the two women were antagonistic. He experienced it with the
+divination that follows upon a moment of acute suspense. He understood
+it, as he had understood Lillian's look of recognition when his
+forehead, eyes, and nose had shown him to be himself; her blank surprise
+when his close-shaven lip and chin had proclaimed him Chilcote.
+
+He felt like a man who has looked into an abyss and stepped back from
+the edge, outwardly calm but mentally shaken. The commonplaces of life
+seemed for the moment to hold deeper meanings. He did not hear Eve's
+answer, he paid no heed to Lillian's next remark. He saw her smile
+and turn to the red-haired man; finally he saw her move on into the
+supper-room, followed by her little court. Then he pressed the arm he
+was still holding. He felt an urgent need of companionship--of a human
+expression to the crisis he had passed.
+
+"Shall we get out of this?" he asked again.
+
+Eve looked up. "Out of the room?" she said.
+
+He looked down at her, compelling her gaze. "Out of the room--and the
+house," he answered. "Let us go-home."
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+
+The necessary formalities of departure were speedily got through. The
+passing of the corridors, the gaining of the carriage, seemed to Loder
+to be marvellously simple proceedings. Then, as he sat by Eve's side and
+again felt the forward movement of the horses, he had leisure for the
+first time to wonder whether the time that had passed since last he
+occupied that position had actually been lived through.
+
+Only that night he had unconsciously compared one incident in his life
+to a sketch in which the lights and shadows have been obliterated and
+lost. Now that picture rose before him, startlingly and incredibly
+intact. He saw the sunlit houses of Santasalare, backgrounded by the
+sunlit hills--saw them as plainly as when he himself had sketched them
+on his memory. Every detail of the scene remained the same, even to the
+central figure; only the eye and the hand of the artist had changed.
+
+At this point Eve broke in upon his thoughts. Her first words were
+curiously coincidental.
+
+"What did you think of Lillian Astrupp to-night?" she asked. "Wasn't her
+gown perfect?"
+
+Loder lifted his head with an almost guilty start. Then he answered
+straight from his thoughts.
+
+"I--I didn't notice it," he said; "but her eyes reminded me of a
+cat's eyes--and she walks like a cat. I never seemed to see it--until
+to-night."
+
+Eve changed her position. "She was very artistic," she said,
+tentatively. "Don't you think the gold gown was beautiful with her
+pale-colored hair?"
+
+Loder felt surprised. He was convinced that Eve disliked the other and
+he was not sufficiently versed in women to understand her praise. "I
+thought--" he began. Then he wisely stopped. "I didn't see the gown," he
+substituted.
+
+Eve looked out of the window. "How unappreciative men are!" she said.
+But her tone was strangely free from censure.
+
+After this there was silence until Grosvenor Square was reached. Having
+left the carriage and passed into the house, Eve paused for a moment
+at the foot of the stairs to give an order to Crapham, who was still in
+attendance in the hall; and again Loder had an opportunity of studying
+her. As he looked, a sharp comparison rose to his mind.
+
+"A fairy princess!" he had heard the red-haired man say as Lillian
+Astrupp came into view along the Bramfells' corridor, and the simile
+had seemed particularly apt. With her grace, her delicacy, her subtle
+attraction, she might well be the outcome of imagination. But with Eve
+it was different. She also was graceful and attractive--but it was grace
+and attraction of a different order. One was beautiful with the beauty
+of the white rose that springs from the hot-house and withers at the
+first touch of cold; the other with the beauty of the wild rose on the
+cliffs above the sea, that keeps its petals fine and transparent in
+face of salt spray and wet mist. Eve, too, had her realm, but it was the
+realm of real things. A great confidence, a feeling that here one might
+rely even if all other faiths were shaken, touched him suddenly. For a
+moment he stood irresolute, watching her mount the stairs with her
+easy, assured step. Then a determination came to him. Fate favored him
+to-night; he was in luck tonight. He would put his fortune to one more
+test. He swung across the hall and ran up the stairs.
+
+His face was keen with interest as he reached her side. The hard outline
+of his features and the hard grayness of his eyes were softened as when
+he had paused to talk with Lakely. Action was the breath of his life,
+and his face changed under it as another's might change under the
+influence of stirring music or good wine.
+
+Eve saw the look and again the uneasy expression of surprise crossed her
+eyes. She paused, her hand resting on the banister.
+
+Loder looked at her directly. "Will you come into the study--as you came
+that other night? There's something I want to say." He spoke quietly. He
+felt master of himself and of her.
+
+She hesitated, glanced at him, and then glanced away.
+
+"Will you come?" he said again. And as he said it his eyes rested on the
+sweep of her thick eyelashes, the curve of the black hair.
+
+At last her lashes lifted, and the perplexity and doubt in her blue eyes
+stirred him. Without waiting for her answer, he leaned forward.
+
+"Say yes!" he urged. "I don't often ask for favors."
+
+Still she hesitated; then her decision was made for her. With a new
+boldness he touched her arm, drawing her forward gently but decisively
+towards Chilcote's rooms.
+
+In the study a fire burned brightly, the desk was laden with papers, the
+lights were nicely adjusted; even the chairs were in their accustomed
+places. Loder's senses responded to each suggestion. It seemed but a day
+since he had seen it last. It was precisely as he had left it--the niche
+needing but the man.
+
+To hide his emotion he crossed the floor quickly and drew a chair
+forward. In less than six hours he had run up and down the scale of
+emotions. He had looked despair in the face, till the sudden sight of
+Chilcote had lifted him to the skies; since then, surprise had assailed
+him in its strongest form; he had known the full meaning of the word
+"risk"; and from every contingency he had come out conqueror. He bent
+over the chair as he pulled it forward, to hide the expression in his
+eyes.
+
+"Sit down," he said, gently.
+
+Eve moved towards him. She moved slowly, as if half afraid.
+Many emotions stirred her--distrust, uncertainty, and a curious
+half-dominant, half-suppressed questioning that it was difficult to
+define. Loder remembered her shrinking coldness, her reluctant tolerance
+on the night of his first coming, and his individuality, his certainty
+of power, kindled afresh. Never had he been so vehemently himself; never
+had Chilcote seemed so complete a shadow.
+
+As Eve seated herself, he moved forward and leaned over the back of her
+chair. The impulse that had filled him in his interview with Renwick,
+that had goaded him as he drove to the reception, was dominant again.
+
+"I tried to say something as we drove to the Bramfells' to-night," he
+began. Like many men who possess eloquence for an impersonal cause, he
+was brusque, even blunt, in the stating of his own case. "May I hark
+back, and go on from where I broke off?"
+
+Eve half turned. Her face was still puzzled and questioning. "Of
+course." She sat forward again, clasping her hands.
+
+He looked thoughtfully at the back of her head, at the slim outline of
+her shoulders, the glitter of the diamonds about her neck.
+
+"Do you remember the day, three weeks ago, that we talked together in
+this room? The day a great many things seemed possible?"
+
+This time she did not look round. She kept her gaze upon the fire.
+
+"Do you remember?" he persisted, quietly. In his college days men who
+heard that tone of quiet persistence had been wont to lose heart. Eve
+heard it now for the first time, and, without being aware, answered to
+it.
+
+"Yes, I remember," she said.
+
+"On that day you believed in me--" In his earnestness he no longer
+simulated Chilcote; he spoke with his own steady reliance. He saw Eve
+stir, unclasp and clasp her hands, but he went steadily on. "On that
+day you saw me in a new light. You acknowledged me." He emphasized the
+slightly peculiar word. "But since that day"--his voice quickened "since
+that day your feelings have changed--your faith in me has fallen away."
+He watched her closely; but she made no sign, save to lean still nearer
+to the fire. He crossed his arms over the back of her chair. "You were
+justified," he said, suddenly. "I've not been--myself since that day."
+As he said the words his coolness forsook him slightly. He loathed the
+necessary lie, yet his egotism clamored for vindication. "All men have
+their lapses," he went on; "there are times--there are days and weeks
+when I--when my--" The word "nerves" touched his tongue, hung upon it,
+then died away unspoken.
+
+Very quietly, almost without a sound, Eve had risen and turned towards
+him. She was standing very straight, her face a little pale, the hand
+that rested on the arm of her chair trembling slightly.
+
+"John," she said, quickly, "don't say that word? Don't say that hideous
+word `nerves'! I don't feel that I can bear it to-night--not just
+to-night. Can you understand?"
+
+Loder stepped back. Without comprehending, he felt suddenly and
+strangely at a loss. Something in her face struck him silent and
+perplexed. It seemed that without preparation he had stepped upon
+dangerous ground. With an undefined apprehension he waited, looking at
+her.
+
+"I can't explain it," she went on with nervous haste, "I can't give any
+reasons, but quite suddenly the--the farce has grown unbearable. I
+used not to think--used not even to care--but suddenly things have
+changed--or I have changed." She paused, confused and distressed. "Why
+should it be? Why should things change?" She asked the question sharp.
+ly, as if in appeal against her own incredulity.
+
+Loder turned aside. He was afraid of the triumph, volcanic and
+irrepressible, that her admission roused.
+
+"Why?" she said again.
+
+He turned slowly back. "You forget that I'm not a magician," he said,
+gently. "I hardly know what you are speaking of."
+
+For a moment she was silent, but in that moment her eyes spoke. Pain,
+distress, pride, all strove for expression; then at last her lips
+parted.
+
+"Do you say that in seriousness?" she asked.
+
+It was no moment for fencing, and Loder knew it. "In seriousness," he
+replied, shortly.
+
+"Then I shall speak seriously, too." Her voice shook slightly and the
+color came back into her face, but the hand on the arm of the chair
+ceased to tremble. "For more than four years I have known that you take
+drugs--for more than four years I have acquiesced in your deceptions--in
+your meannesses--"
+
+There was an instant's silence. Then Loder stepped forward.
+
+"You knew--for four years?" he said, very slowly. For the first time
+that night he remembered Chilcote and forgot himself.
+
+Eve lifted her head with a quick gesture--as if, in flinging off
+discretion and silence, she appreciated to the full the new relief of
+speech.
+
+"Yes, I knew. Perhaps I should have spoken when I first surprised the
+secret, but it's all so past that it's useless to speculate now. It
+was fate, I suppose. I was very young, you were very unapproachable,
+and--and we had no love to make the way easy." For a second her glance
+faltered and she looked away. "A woman's--a girl's--disillusioning is a
+very sad comedy--it should never have an audience." She laughed a little
+bitterly as she looked back again. "I saw all the deceits, all the
+subterfuges, all the--lies." She said the word deliberately, meeting his
+eyes.
+
+Again he thought of Chilcote, but his face paled.
+
+"I saw it all. I lived with it all till I grew hard and
+indifferent--till I acquiesced in your 'nerves' as readily as the rest
+of the world that hadn't suspected and didn't know." Again she laughed
+nervously. "And I thought the indifference would last forever. If one
+lives in a groove for years, one gets frozen up; I never felt more
+frozen than on the night Mr. Fraide spoke to me of you--asked me to use
+my influence; then, on that night--"
+
+"Yes. On that night?" Loder's voice was tense.
+
+But her excitement had suddenly fallen. Whether his glance had quelled
+it or whether the force of her feelings had worked itself out it was
+impossible to say, but her eyes had lost their resolution. She stood
+hesitating for a moment, then she turned and moved to the mantel-piece.
+
+"That night you found me--changed?" Loder was insistent.
+
+"Changed--and yet not changed." She spoke reluctantly, with averted
+head.
+
+"And what did you think?"
+
+Again she was silent; then again a faint excitement tinged her cheeks.
+
+"I thought--" she began. "It seemed--" Once more she paused, hampered
+by her own uncertainty, her own sense of puzzling incongruity. "I don't
+know why I speak like this," she went on at last, as if in justification
+of herself, "or why I want to speak. But a feeling--an extraordinary,
+incomprehensible feeling seems to urge me on. The same feeling that came
+to me on the day we had tea together--the feeling that made me--that
+almost made me believe--"
+
+"Believe what?" The words escaped him without volition.
+
+At sound of his voice she turned. "Believe that a miracle had happened,"
+she said--"that you had found strength--had freed yourself."
+
+"From morphia?"
+
+"From morphia."
+
+In the silence that followed, Loder lived through a century of
+suggestion and indecision. His first feeling was for himself, but
+his first clear thought was for Chilcote and their compact. He stood,
+metaphorically, on a stone in the middle of a stream, balancing on one
+foot, then the other; looking to the right bank, then to the left. At
+last, as it always did, inspiration came to him slowly. He realized that
+by one plunge he might save both Chilcote and himself!
+
+He crossed quickly to the fireplace and stood by Eve. "You were right in
+your belief," he said. "For all that time from the night you spoke to me
+of Fraide to the day you had tea in this room--I never touched a drug."
+
+She moved suddenly, and he saw her face. "John," she said, unsteadily,
+"you--I--I have known you to lie to me--about other things."
+
+With a hasty movement he averted his head. The doubt, the appeal in her
+words shocked him. The whole isolation of her life seemed summed up
+in the one short sentence. For the instant he forgot Chilcote. With a
+reaction of feeling he turned to her again.
+
+"Look at me!" he said, brusquely.
+
+She raised her eyes.
+
+"Do you believe I'm speaking the truth?"
+
+She searched his eyes intently, the doubt and hesitancy still struggling
+in her face.
+
+"But the last three weeks?" she said, reluctantly. "How can you ask me
+to believe?"
+
+He had expected this, and he met it steadily enough; nevertheless his
+courage faltered. To deceive this woman, even to justify himself, had in
+the last halfhour become something sacrilegious.
+
+"The last three weeks must be buried," he said, hurriedly. "No man could
+free himself suddenly from--from a vice." He broke off abruptly. He
+hated Chilcote; he hated himself. Then Eve's face, raised in distressed
+appeal, overshadowed all scruples. "You have been silent and patient
+for years," he said, suddenly. "Can you be patient and silent a
+little longer?" He spoke without consideration. He was conscious of
+no selfishness beneath his words. In the first exercise of conscious
+strength the primitive desire to reduce all elements to his own
+sovereignty submerged every other emotion. "I can't enter into the
+thing," he said; "like you, I give no explanations. I can only tell you
+that on the day we talked together in this room I was myself--in the
+full possession of my reason, the full knowledge of my own capacities.
+The man you have known in the last three weeks, the man you have
+imagined in the last four years, is a shadow, an unreality--a weakness
+in human form. There is a new Chilcote--if you will only see him."
+
+Ewe was trembling as he ceased; her face was flushed; there was a
+strange brightness in her eyes She was moved beyond herself.
+
+"But the other you--the old you?"
+
+"You must be patient." He looked down into the fire. "Times like the
+last three weeks will come again--must come again; they are inevitable.
+When they do come, you must shut your eyes--you must blind yourself. You
+must ignore them--and me. Is it a compact?" He still avoided her eyes.
+
+She turned to him quietly. "Yes--if you wish it," she said, below her
+breath.
+
+He was conscious of her glance, but he dared not meet it. He felt sick
+at the part he was playing, yet he held to it tenaciously.
+
+"I wonder if you could do what few men and fewer women are capable of?"
+he asked, at last. "I wonder if you could learn to live in the present?"
+He lifted his head slowly and met her eyes. "This is an--an experiment,"
+he went on. "And, like all experiments, it has good phases and bad. When
+the bad phases come round I--I want you to tell yourself that you are
+not altogether alone in your unhappiness--that I am suffering too--in
+another way."
+
+There was silence when he had spoken, and for a space it seemed that
+Eve would make no response. Then the last surprise in a day of surprises
+came to him. With a slight stir, a slight, quick rustle of skirts, she
+stepped forward and laid her hand in his.
+
+The gesture was simple and very sweet; her eyes were soft and full of
+light as she raised her face to his, her lips parted in unconscious
+appeal.
+
+There is no surrender so seductive as the surrender of a proud woman.
+Loder's blood stirred, the undeniable suggestion of the moment thrilled
+and disconcerted him in a tumult of thought. Honor, duty, principle rose
+in a triple barrier; but honor, duty, and principle are but words to a
+headstrong man. The full significance of his position came to him as it
+had never come before. His hand closed on hers; he bent towards her, his
+pulses beating unevenly.
+
+"Eve!" he said. Then at sound of his voice he suddenly hesitated. It was
+the voice of a man who has forgotten everything but his own existence.
+
+For an instant he stayed motionless; then very quietly he drew away from
+her, releasing her hands.
+
+"No," he said. "No--I haven't got the right."
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+
+That night, for almost the first time since he had adopted his dual
+role, Loder slept ill. He was not a man over whom imagination held any
+powerful sway--his doubts and misgivings seldom ran to speculation,
+upon future possibilities; nevertheless, the fact that, consciously or
+unconsciously, he had adopted a new attitude towards Eve came home to
+him with unpleasant force during the hours of darkness; and long before
+the first hint of daylight had slipped through the heavy window-curtains
+he had arranged a plan of action--a plan wherein, by the simple method
+of altogether avoiding her, he might soothe his own conscience and
+safeguard Chilcote's domestic interests.
+
+It was a satisfactory if a somewhat negative arrangement, and he rose
+next morning with a feeling that things had begun to shape themselves.
+But chance sometimes has a disconcerting knack of forestalling even our
+best-planned schemes. He dressed slowly, and descended to his solitary
+breakfast with the pleasant sensation of having put last night out of
+consideration by the turning over of a new leaf; but scarcely had he
+opened Chilcote's letters, scarcely had he taken a cursory glance at the
+morning's newspaper, than it was borne in upon him that not only a
+new leaf, but a whole sheaf of new leaves, had been turned in his
+prospects--by a hand infinitely more powerful and arbitrary than his
+own. He realized within the space of a few moments that the leisure Eve
+might have claimed, the leisure he might have been tempted to devote to
+her, was no longer his to dispose of--being already demanded of him from
+a quarter that allowed of no refusal.
+
+For the first rumbling of the political earthquake that was to shake the
+country made itself audible beyond denial on that morning of March 27th,
+when the news spread through England that, in view of the disorganized
+state of the Persian army and the Shah's consequent inability to
+suppress the open insurrection of the border tribes in the north-eastern
+districts of Meshed, Russia, with a great show of magnanimity, had come
+to the rescue by despatching a large armed force from her military
+station at Merv across the Persian frontier to the seat of the
+disturbance.
+
+To many hundreds of Englishmen who read their papers on that morning
+this announcement conveyed but little. That there is such a country as
+Persia we all know, that English interests predominate in the south and
+Russian interests in the north we have all superficially understood from
+childhood; but in this knowledge, coupled with the fact that Persia is
+comfortably far away, we are apt to rest content. It is only to the
+eyes that see through long-distance glasses, the minds that regard the
+present as nothing more nor less than an inevitable link joining the
+future to the past, that this distant, debatable land stands out in its
+true political significance.
+
+To the average reader of news the statement of Russia's move seemed
+scarcely more important than had the first report of the border risings
+in January, but to the men who had watched the growth of the disturbance
+it came charged with portentous meaning. Through the entire ranks of
+the opposition, from Fraide himself downward, it caused a thrill of
+expectation--that peculiar prophetic sensation that every politician has
+experienced at some moment of his career.
+
+In no member of his party did this feeling strike deeper root than
+in Loder. Imbued with a lifelong interest in the Eastern question,
+specially equipped by personal knowledge to hold and proclaim an opinion
+upon Persian affairs, he read the signs and portents with instinctive
+insight. Seated at Chilcote's table, surrounded by Chilcote's letters
+and papers, he forgot the breakfast that was slowly growing cold, forgot
+the interests and dangers, personal or pleasurable, of the night before,
+while his mental eyes persistently conjured up the map of Persia,
+travelling with steady deliberation from Merv to Meshed, from Meshed to
+Herat, from Herat to the empire of India! For it was not the fact that
+the Hazaras had risen against the Shah that occupied the thinking mind,
+nor was it the fact that Russian and not Persian troops were destined
+to subdue them, but the deeply important consideration that an armed
+Russian force had crossed the frontier and was encamped within twenty
+miles of Meshed-Meshed, upon which covetous Russian eyes have rested
+ever since the days of Peter the Great.
+
+So Loder's thoughts ran as he read and reread the news from the varying
+political stand-points, and so they continued to run when, some hours
+later, an urgent telephone message from the 'St. George's Gazette' asked
+him to call at Lakely's office.
+
+The message was interesting as well as imperative, and he made
+an instant response. The thought of Lakely's keen eyes and shrewd
+enthusiasms always possessed strong attractions for his own slower
+temperament, but even had this impetus been lacking, the knowledge that
+at the 'St. George's' offices, if anywhere, the true feelings of the
+party were invariably voiced would have drawn him without hesitation.
+
+It was scarcely twelve o'clock when he turned the corner of the tall
+building, but already the keen spirit that Lakely everywhere diffused
+was making itself felt. Loder smiled to himself as his eyes fell on the
+day's placards with their uncompromising headings, and passed onward
+from the string of gayly painted carts drawn up to receive their first
+consignment of the paper to the troop of eager newsboys passing in and
+out of the big swing-doors with their piled-up bundles of the early
+edition; and with a renewed thrill of anticipation and energy he passed
+through the doorway and ran up-stairs.
+
+Passing unchallenged through the long corridor that led to Lakely's
+office, he caught a fresh impression of action and vitality from the
+click of the tape machines in the subeditors' office, and a glimpse
+through the open door of the subeditors themselves, each occupied with
+his particular task; then without time for further observation he found
+himself at Lakely's door. Without waiting to knock, as he had felt
+compelled to do on the one or two previous occasions that business had
+brought him there, he immediately turned the handle and entered the
+room.
+
+Editors' offices differ but little in general effect.
+
+Lakely's surroundings were rather more elaborate than is usual, as
+became the dignity of the oldest Tory evening paper, but the atmosphere
+was unmistakable. As Loder entered he glanced up from the desk at which
+he was sitting, but instantly returned to his task of looking through
+and marking the pile of early evening editions that were spread around
+him. His coat was off and hung on the chair behind him, axed he pulled
+vigorously on a long cigar.
+
+"Hullo! That's right," he said, laconically. "Make yourself comfortable
+half a second, while I skim the 'St. Stephen's'."
+
+His salutation pleased Loder. With a nod of acquiescence he crossed the
+office to the brisk fire that burned in, the grate.
+
+For a minute or two Lakely worked steadily, occasionally breaking the
+quiet by an unintelligible remark or a vigorous stroke of his pencil. At
+last he dropped the paper with a gesture of satisfaction and leaned back
+in his chair.
+
+"Well," he said, "what d'you think of this? How's this for a
+complication?"
+
+Loder turned round. "I think," he said, quietly, "that we can't
+overestimate it."
+
+Lakely laughed and took a long pull at his cigar. "And we mustn't be
+afraid to let the Sefborough crowd know it, eh?" He waved his hand to
+the poster of the first edition that hung before his desk.
+
+Loder, following his glance, smiled.
+
+Lakely laughed again. "They might have known it all along, if they'd
+cared to deduce," he said. "Did they really believe that Russia was
+going to sit calmly looking across the Heri-Rud while the Shah played
+at mobilizing? But what became of you last night? We had a regular
+prophesying of the whole business at Bramfell's; the great Fraide looked
+in for five minutes. I went on with him to the club afterwards and was
+there when the news came in. 'Twas a great night!"
+
+Loder's face lighted up. "I can imagine it," he said, with an unusual
+touch of warmth.
+
+Lakely watched him intently for a moment. Then with a quick action he
+leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk.
+
+"It's going to be something more than imagination for you, Chilcote," he
+said, impressively. "It's going to be solid earnest!" He spoke rapidly
+and with rather more than his usual shrewd decisiveness; then he paused
+to see the effect of his announcement.
+
+Loder was still studying the flaring poster. At the other's words he
+turned sharply. Something in Lakely's voice, something in his manner,
+arrested him. A tinge of color crossed his face.
+
+"Reality?" he said. "What do you mean?"
+
+For a further space his companion watched him; then with a rapid
+movement he tilted back his chair.
+
+"Yes," he said. "Yes; old Fraide's instincts are never far out. He's
+quite right. You're the man!"
+
+Still quietly, but with a strange underglow of excitement, Loder left
+the fire, and, coming forward, took a chair at Lakely's desk.
+
+"Do you mind telling me what you're driving at?" he asked, in his old,
+laconic voice.
+
+Lakely still scrutinized him with an air of brisk satisfaction; then
+with a gesture of finality he tossed his cigar away.
+
+"My dear chap," he said, "there's going to be a breach somewhere--and
+Fraide says you're the man to step in and fill it! You see, five years
+ago, when things looked lively on the Gulf and the Bundar Abbas business
+came to light, you did some promising work; and a reputation like that
+sticks to a man--even when he turns slacker! I won't deny that you've
+slacked abominably," he added, as Loder made an uneasy movement, "but
+slacking has different effects. Some men run to seed, others mature. I
+had almost put you down on the black list, but I've altered my mind in
+the last two months."
+
+Again Loder stirred in his seat. A host of emotions were stirring in
+his mind. Every word wrung from Lakely was another stimulus to pride,
+another subtle tribute to the curious force of personality.
+
+"Well?" he said. "Well?"
+
+Lakely smiled. "We all know that Sefborough's ministry is--well,
+top-heavy," he said. "Sefborough is building his card house just a story
+too high. It's a toss-up what 'll upset the balance. It might be the
+army, of course, or it might be education; but it might quite as well be
+a matter of foreign policy!"
+
+They looked at each other in comprehensive silence.
+
+"You know as well as I that it's not the question of whether Russia
+comes into Persia, but the question of whether Russia goes out of Persia
+when these Hazaras are subdued! I'll lay you what you like, Chilcote,
+that within one week we hear that the risings are suppressed, but that
+Russia, instead of retiring, has advanced those tempting twenty miles
+and comfortably ensconced herself at Meshed--as she ensconced herself on
+the island of Ashurada. Lakely's nervous, energetic figure was braced,
+his light-blue eyes brightened, by the intensity of his interest.
+
+"If this news comes before the Easter recess," he went on, "the first
+nail can be hammered in on the motion for adjournment. And if the right
+man does it in the right way, I'll lay my life 'twill be a nail in
+Sefborough's coffin."
+
+Loder sat very still. Overwhelming possibilities had suddenly opened
+before him. In a moment the unreality of the past months had become
+real; a tangible justification of himself and his imposture was suddenly
+made possible. In the stress of understanding he, too, leaned forward,
+and, resting his elbows on the desk, took his face between his hands.
+
+For a space Lakely made no remark. To him man and man's moods came
+second in interest to his paper and his party politics. That Chilcote
+should be conscious of the glories he had opened up seemed only natural;
+that he should show that consciousness in a becoming gravity seemed only
+right. For some seconds he made no attempt to disturb him; but at last
+his own irrepressible activity made silence unendurable. He caught up
+his pencil and tapped impatiently on the desk.
+
+"Chilcote," he said, quickly and with a gleam of sudden anxiety, "you're
+not by any chance doubtful of yourself?"
+
+At sound of his voice Loder lifted his face; it was quite pale again,
+but the energy and resolution that had come into it when Lakely first
+spoke were still to be seen.
+
+"No, Lakely," he said, very slowly, "it's not the sort of moment in
+which a man doubts himself."
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+
+And so it came about that Loder was freed from one responsibility to
+undertake another. From the morning of March 27th, when Lakely had
+expounded the political programme in the offices of the 'St. George's
+Gazette', to the afternoon of April 1st he found himself a central
+figure in the whirlpool of activity that formed itself in Conservative
+circles.
+
+With the acumen for which he was noted, Lakely had touched the key-stone
+of the situation on that morning; and succeeding events, each fraught
+with its own importance, had established the precision of his forecast.
+
+Minutely watchful of Russia's attitude, Fraide quietly organized his
+forces and strengthened his position with a statesmanlike grasp of
+opportunity; and to Loder the attributes displayed by his leader during
+those trying days formed an endless and absorbing study. Setting the
+thought of Chilcote aside, ignoring his own position and the risks he
+daily ran, he had fully yielded to the glamour of the moment, and in
+the first freedom of a loose rein he had given unreservedly all that he
+possessed of activity, capacity, and determination to the cause that had
+claimed him.
+
+Singularly privileged in a constant, personal contact with Fraide, he
+learned many valuable lessons of tact and organization in those five
+vital days during which the tactics of a whole party hung upon one item
+of news from a country thousands of miles away. For should Russia subdue
+the insurgent Hazaras and, laden with the honors of the peacemaker,
+retire across the frontier, then the political arena would remain
+undisturbed; but should the all-important movement predicted by Lakely
+become an accepted fact before Parliament rose for the Easter recess,
+then the first blow in the fight that would rage during the succeeding
+session must inevitably be struck. In the mean time it was Fraide's
+difficult position to wait and watch and yet preserve his dignity.
+
+It was early in the afternoon of March 29th that Loder, in response to
+a long-standing invitation, lunched quietly with the Fraides. Being
+delayed by some communications from Wark, he was a few minutes late in
+keeping his appointment, and on being shown into the drawing-room
+found the little group of three that was to make up the party already
+assembled--Fraide, Lady Sarah--and Eve. As he entered the room they
+ceased to speak, and all three turned in his direction.
+
+In the first moment he had a vague impression of responding suitably
+to Lady Sarah's cordial greeting; but he knew that immediately and
+unconsciously his eyes turned to Eve, while a quick sense of surprise
+and satisfaction passed through him at sight of her. For an instant
+he wondered how she would mark his avoidance of her since their last
+eventful interview; then instantly he blamed himself for the passing
+doubt. For, before all things, he knew her to be a woman of the world.
+
+He took Fraide's outstretched hand; and again he looked towards Eve,
+waiting for her to speak.
+
+She met his glance, but said nothing. Instead of speaking she smiled at
+him--a smile that was far more reassuring than any words, a smile that
+in a single second conveyed forgiveness, approbation, and a warm, almost
+tender sense of sympathy and comprehension. The remembrance of that
+smile stayed with him long after they were seated at table; and far
+into the future the remembrance of the lunch itself, with its pleasant
+private sense of satisfaction, was destined to return to him in
+retrospective moments. The delightful atmosphere of the Fraides' home
+life had always been a wonder and an enigma to him; but on this day he
+seemed to grasp its meaning by a new light, as he watched Eve soften
+under its influence and felt himself drawn imperceptibly from the
+position of a speculative outsider to that of an intimate. It was a
+fresh side to the complex, fascinating life of which Fraide was the
+master spirit.
+
+These reflections had grown agreeably familiar to his mind; the talk,
+momentarily diverted into social channels, was quietly drifting back to
+the inevitable question of the "situation" that in private moments was
+never far from their lips, when the event that was to mark and separate
+that day from those that had preceded it was unceremoniously thrust upon
+them.
+
+Without announcement or apology, the door was suddenly flung open and
+Lakely entered the room.
+
+His face was brimming with excitement, and his eyes flashed. In the
+first haste of the entry he failed to see that there were ladies in the
+room, And, crossing instantly to Fraide, laid an open telegram before
+him.
+
+"This is official, sir," he said. Then at last he glanced round the
+table.
+
+"Lady Sarah!" he exclaimed. "Can you forgive me? But I'd have given a
+hundred pounds to be the first with this!" He glanced back at Fraide.
+
+Lady Sarah rose and stretched out her hand. "Mr. Lakely," she said, "I
+more than understand!" There was a thrill in her warm, cordial voice,
+and her eyes also turned towards her husband.
+
+Of the whole party, Fraide alone was perfectly calm. He sat very still,
+his small, thin figure erect and dignified, as his eyes scanned the
+message that meant so much.
+
+Eve, who had sprung from her seat and passed round the table at sound of
+Lakely's news, was leaning over his shoulder, reading the telegram
+with him. At the last word she lifted her head, her face flushed with
+excitement.
+
+"How splendid it must be to be a man!" she exclaimed. And without
+premeditation her eyes and Loder's met.
+
+
+In this manner came the news from Persia, and with it Loder's definite
+call. In the momentary stress of action it was impossible that any
+thought of Chilcote could obtrude itself. Events had followed each other
+too rapidly, decisive action had been too much thrust upon him, to allow
+of hesitation; and it was in this spirit, under this vigorous pressure,
+that he made his attack upon the government on the day that followed
+Fraide's luncheon party.
+
+That indefinable attentiveness, that alert sensation of impending storm.
+that is so strong an index of the parliamentary atmosphere was very keen
+on that memorable first of April. It was obvious in the crowded benches
+on both sides of the House--in the oneness of purpose that insensibly
+made itself felt through the ranks of the Opposition, and found definite
+expression in Fraide's stiff figure and tightly shut lips--in the
+unmistakable uneasiness that lay upon the ministerial benches.
+
+But notwithstanding these indications of battle, the early portion
+of the proceedings was unmarked by excitement, being tinged with the
+purposeless lack of vitality that had of late marked all affairs of the
+Sefborough Ministry; and it was not until the adjournment of the House
+for the Easter recess had at last been moved that the spirit of activity
+hovering in the air descended and galvanized the assembly into life. It
+was then, amid a stir of interest, that Loder slowly rose.
+
+Many curious incidents have marked the speech-making annals of the House
+of Commons, but it is doubtful whether it has ever been the lot of a
+member to hear his own voice raised for the first time on a subject of
+vital interest to his party, having been denied all initial assistance
+of minor questions asked or unimportant amendments made. Of all those
+gathered together in the great building on that day, only one man
+appreciated the difficulty of Loder's position--and that man was Loder
+himself.
+
+He rose slowly and stood silent for a couple of seconds, his body
+braced, his fingers touching the sheaf of notes that lay in front of
+him. To the waiting House the silence was effective. It might mean
+over-assurance, or it might mean a failure of nerve at a critical
+moment. Either possibility had a tinge of piquancy. Moved by the same
+impulse, fifty pairs o eyes turned upon him with new interest; but up
+in the Ladies' Gallery Eve clasped her hands in sudden apprehension; and
+Fraide, sitting stiffly in his seat, turned and shot one swift glance
+at the man on whom, against prudence and precedent, he had pinned
+his faith. The glance was swift but very searching, and with a
+characteristic movement of his wiry shoulders he resumed his position
+and his usual grave, attentive attitude. At the same moment Loder lifted
+his head and began to speak.
+
+Here at the outset his inexperience met him. His voice, pitched too low,
+only reached those directly near him. It was a moment of great strain.
+Eve, listening intently, drew a long breath of suspense and let her
+fingers drop apart; the sceptical, watchful eyes that faced him, line
+upon line, seemed to flash and brighten with critical interest; only
+Fraide made no change of expression. He sat placid, serious, attentive,
+with the shadow of a smile behind his eyes.
+
+Again Loder paused, but this time the pause was shorter. The ordeal he
+had dreaded and waited for was passed and he saw his way clearly. With
+the old movement of the shoulders he straightened himself and once more
+began to speak. This time his voice rang quietly true and commanding
+across the floor of the House.
+
+No first step can be really great; it must of necessity possess more of
+prophecy than of achievement; nevertheless it is by the first step that
+a man marks the value, not only of his cause, but of himself. Following
+broadly on the lines that tradition has laid down for the Conservative
+orator, Loder disguised rather than displayed the vein of strong,
+persuasive eloquence that was his natural gift. The occasion that might
+possibly justify such a display of individuality might lie with the
+future, but it had no application to the present. For the moment his
+duty was to voice his party sentiments with as much lucidity, as much
+logic, and as much calm conviction as lay within his capacity.
+
+Standing quietly in Chilcote's place, he was conscious with a deep sense
+of gravity of the peculiarity of his position; and perhaps it was this
+unconscious and unstudied seriousness that lent him the tone of weight
+and judgment so essential to the cause he had in hand. It has always
+been difficult to arouse the interest of the House on matters of British
+policy in Persia. Once aroused, it may, it is true, reach fever heat
+with remarkable rapidity, but the introductory stages offer that worst
+danger to the earnest speaker--the dread of an apathetic audience. But
+from this consideration Loder, by his sharp consciousness of personal
+difficulties, was given immunity.
+
+Pitching his voice in that quietly masterful tone that beyond all
+others compels attention, he took up his subject and dealt with it with
+dispassionate force. With great skill he touched on the steady southward
+advance of Russia into Persian territory from the distant days when, by
+a curious irony of fate, Russian and British enterprise combined to make
+entry into the country under the sanction of the Grand-Duke of Moscovy,
+to the present hour, when this great power of Russia--long since
+alienated by interests and desires from her former co-operator--had
+taken a step which in the eyes of every thinking man must possess a
+deep significance. With quiet persistence he pointed out the peculiar
+position of Meshed in the distant province of Khorasan; its vast
+distance from the Persian Gulf, round which British interests and
+influence centre, and the consequently alarming position of hundreds of
+traders who, in the security of British sovereignty, are fighting their
+way upward from India, from Afghanistan, even from England herself.
+
+Following up his point, he dilated on these subjects of the British
+crown who, cut off from adequate assistance, can only turn in personal
+or commercial peril to the protective power of the nearest consulate.
+Then, quietly demanding the attention of his hearers, he marshalled fact
+after fact to demonstrate the isolation and inadequacy of a consulate
+so situated; the all but arbitrary power of Russia, who in her new
+occupation of Meshed had only two considerations to withhold her from
+open aggression--the knowledge of England as a very considerable but
+also a very distant power; the knowledge of Persia as an imminent but
+wholly impotent factor in the case.
+
+Having stated his opinions, he reverted to the motive of his speech--his
+desire to put forward a strong protest against the adjournment of the
+House without an assurance from the government that immediate measures
+would be taken to safeguard British interests in Meshed and throughout
+the province of Khorasan.
+
+
+The immediate outcome of Loder's speech was all that his party
+had desired. The effect on the House had been marked; and when, no
+satisfactory response coming to his demand, he had in still more
+resolute and insistent terms called for a division on the motion for
+adjournment, the result had been an appreciable fall in the government
+majority.
+
+To Loder himself, the realization that he had at last vindicated and
+justified himself by individual action had a peculiar effect. His
+position had been altered in one remarkable particular. Before this day
+he alone had known himself to be strong; now the knowledge was shared by
+others and he was human enough to be susceptible to the change.
+
+The first appreciation of it came immediately after the excitement of
+the division, when Fraide, singling him out, took his arm and pressed it
+affectionately.
+
+"My dear Chilcote," he said, "we are all proud of you!" Then, looking up
+into his face, he added, in a graver tone, "But keep your mind upon the
+future; never be blinded by the present--however bright it seems."
+
+At the touch of his hand, at the spontaneous approval of his first
+words, Loder's pride thrilled, and in a vehement rush of ambition his
+senses answered to the praise. Then, as Fraide in all unconsciousness
+added his second sentence, the hot glow of feeling suddenly chilled. In
+a sweep of intuitive reaction the meaning and the danger of his falsely
+real position extinguished his excitement and turned his triumph cold.
+With an involuntary gesture he withdrew his arm.
+
+"You're very good, sir," he said. "And you're very right. We never
+should forget that there is--a future."
+
+The old man glanced up, surprised by the tone.
+
+"Quite so, Chilcote," he said, kindly. "But we only advise those in whom
+we believe to look towards it. Shall we find my wife? I know she will
+want to bear you home with us."
+
+But Loder's joy in himself and his achievement had dropped from him. He
+shrank suddenly from Lady Sarah's congratulations and Eve's warm, silent
+approbation.
+
+"Thanks, sir," he said, "but I don't feel fit for society. A touch of
+my--nerves, I suppose." He laughed shortly. "But do you mind saying
+to Eve that I hope I have--satisfied her?" he added this as if in
+half-reluctant after-thought. Then, with a short pressure of Fraide's
+hand, he turned, evading the many groups that waited to claim him, and
+passed out of the House alone.
+
+Hailing a cab, he drove to Grosvenor Square. All the exaltation of an
+hour ago had turned to ashes. His excitement had found its culmination
+in a sense of futility and premonition.
+
+He met no one in the hall or on the stairs of Chilcote's house, and on
+entering the study he found that also deserted. Greening had been among
+the most absorbed of those who had listened to his speech. Passing at
+once into the room, he crossed as if by instinct to the desk, and there
+halted. On the top of some unopened letters lay the significant yellow
+envelope of a telegram--the telegram that in an unformed, subconscious
+way had sprung to his expectation on the moment of Fraide's
+congratulation.
+
+Very quietly he picked it up, opened and read it, and, with the
+automatic caution that had become habitual, carried it across the room
+and dropped it in the fire. This done, he returned to the desk, read the
+letters that awaited Chilcote, and, scribbling the necessary notes upon
+the margins, left them in readiness for Greening. Then, moving with the
+same quiet suppression, he passed from the room, down the stairs, and
+out into the street by the way he had come.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+
+On the fifth day after the momentous 1st of April on which he had
+recalled Loder and resumed his own life Chilcote left his house and
+walked towards Bond Street. Though the morning was clear and the air
+almost warm for the time of year, he was buttoned into a long overcoat
+and was wearing a muffler and a pair of doeskin gloves. As he passed
+along the street he kept close to the house fronts to avoid the sun that
+was everywhere stirring the winterbound town, like a suffusion of young
+blood through old veins. He avoided the warmth because in this instance
+warmth meant light, but as he moved he shivered slightly from time to
+time with the haunting, permeating cold that of late had become his
+persistent shadow.
+
+He was ill at case as he hurried forward. With each succeeding day
+of the old life the new annoyances, the new obligations became more
+hampering. Before his compact with Loder this old life had been a net
+about his feet; now the meshes seemed to have narrowed, the net itself
+to have spread till it smothered his whole being. His own household--his
+own rooms, even--offered no sanctuary. The presence of another
+personality tinged the atmosphere. It was preposterous, but it was
+undeniable. The lay figure that he had set in his place had proved to
+be flesh and blood--had usurped his life, his position, his very
+personality, by sheer right of strength. As he walked along Bond Street
+in the first sunshine of the year, jostled by the well-dressed crowd, he
+felt a pariah.
+
+He revolted at the new order of things, but the revolt was a silent
+one-the iron of expediency had entered into his soul. He dared not
+jeopardize Loder's position, because he dared not dispense with Loder.
+The door that guarded his vice drew him more resistlessly with every
+indulgence, and Loder's was the voice that called the "Open Sesame!"
+
+He walked on aimlessly. He had been but five days at home, and already
+the quiet, grass-grown court of Clifford's Inn, the bare staircase, the
+comfortless privacy of Loder's rooms seemed a haven of refuge. The speed
+with which this hunger had returned frightened him.
+
+He walked forward rapidly and without encountering a check. Then,
+suddenly, the spell was broken. From the slowly moving, brilliantly
+dressed throng of people some one called him by his name; and turning he
+saw Lillian Astrupp.
+
+She was stepping from the door of a jeweller's, and as he turned she
+paused, holding out her hand.
+
+"The very person I would have wished to see!" she exclaimed. "Where have
+you been these hundred years? I've heard of nobody but you since you've
+turned politician and ceased to be a mere member of Parliament!" She
+laughed softly. The laugh suited the light spring air, as she herself
+suited the pleasant, superficial scene.
+
+He took her hand and held it, while his eyes travelled from her delicate
+face to her pale cloth gown, from her soft furs to the bunch of roses
+fastened in her muff, The sight of her was a curious relief. Her cool,
+slim fingers were so casual, yet so clinging, her voice and her presence
+were so redolent of easy, artificial things.
+
+"How well you look!" he said, involuntarily.
+
+Again she laughed. "That's my prerogative," she responded, lightly. "But
+I was serious in being glad to see you. Sarcastic people are always so
+intuitive. I'm looking for some one with intuition."
+
+Chilcote glanced up. "Extravagant again?" he said, dryly.
+
+She smiled at him sweetly. "Jack!" she murmured with slow reproach.
+
+Chilcote laughed quickly. "I understand. You've changed your Minister of
+Finance. I'm wanted in some other direction."
+
+This time her reproach was expressed by a glance. "You are always
+wanted," she said.
+
+The words seemed to rouse him again to the shadowy self-distrust that
+the sight of her had lifted.
+
+"It's--it's delightful to meet you like this," he began, "and I wish the
+meeting wasn't momentary. But I'm--I'm rather pressed for time. You
+must let me come round one afternoon--or evening, when you're alone." He
+fumbled for a moment with the collar of his coat, and glanced furtively
+upward towards Oxford Street.
+
+But again Lillian smiled--this time to herself. If she understood
+anything on earth it was Chilcote and his moods.
+
+"If one may be careless of anything, Jack," she said, lightly, "surely
+it's of time. I can imagine being pressed for anything else in the
+world. If it's an appointment you're worrying about, a motor goes ever
+so much faster than a cab--" She looked at him tentatively, her head
+slightly on one side, her muff raised till the roses and some of the
+soft fur touched her cheek.
+
+She looked very charming and very persuasive as Chilcote glanced back.
+Again she seemed to represent a respite--something graceful and subtle
+in a world of oppressive obligations. His eyes strayed from her figure
+to the smart motor-car drawn up beside the curb.
+
+She saw the glance. "Ever so much quicker," she insinuated; and, smiling
+again, she stepped forward from the door of the shop. After a second's
+indecision Chilcote followed her.
+
+The waiting car had three seats--one in front for the chauffeur, two
+vis-a-vis at the back, offering pleasant possibilities of a tete-a-tete.
+
+"The Park--and drive slowly," Lillian ordered, as she stepped inside,
+motioning Chilcote to the seat opposite.
+
+They moved up Bond Street smoothly and rapidly. Lillian was absorbed
+in the passing traffic until the Marble Arch was reached; then, as they
+glided through the big gates, she looked across at her companion. He
+had turned up the collar of his coat, though the wind was scarcely
+perceptible, and buried, himself in it to the ears.
+
+"It is extraordinary!" she exclaimed, suddenly, as her eyes rested on
+his face. It was seldom that she felt drawn to exclamation. She was
+usually too indolent to show surprise. But now the feeling was called
+forth before she was aware.
+
+Chilcote looked up. "What's extraordinary?" he said, sensitively.
+
+She leaned forward for an instant and touched his hand.
+
+"Bear!" she said, teasingly. "Did I rub your fur the wrong way?" Then,
+seeing his expression, she tactfully changed her tone. "I'll explain. It
+was the same thing that struck me the night of Blanche's party--when you
+looked at me over Leonard Kaine's head. You remember?" She glanced away
+from him across the Park to where the grass was already showing greener.
+
+Chilcote felt ill at ease. Again he put his hand to his coat collar.
+
+"Oh yes," he said, hastily--"yes." He wished now that he had questioned
+Loder more closely on the proceedings of that party. It seemed to him,
+on looking back, that Loder had mentioned nothing on the day of their
+last exchange but the political complications that absorbed his mind.
+
+"I couldn't explain then," Lillian went on. "I couldn't explain before a
+crowd of people that it wasn't your dark head showing over Leonard's red
+one that surprised me, but the most wonderful, the most extraordinary
+likeness--" She paused.
+
+The car was moving slower; there was a delight in the easy motion
+through the fresh, early air. But Chilcote's uneasiness had been
+aroused. He no longer felt soothed.
+
+"What likeness?" he asked, sharply.
+
+She turned to him easily. "Oh, a likeness I have noticed before," she
+said. "A likeness that always seemed strange, but that suddenly became
+incredible at Blanche's party."
+
+He moved quickly. "Likenesses are an illusion," he said, "a mere
+imagination of the brain!" His manner was short; his annoyance seemingly
+out of all proportion to its cause. Lillian looked at him afresh in
+slightly interested surprise.
+
+"Yet not so very long ago, you yourself--" she began.
+
+"Nonsense!" he broke in. "I've always denied likenesses. Such things
+don't really exist. Likeness-seeing is purely an individual matter--a
+preconception." He spoke fast; he was uneasy under the cool scrutiny of
+her green eyes. And with a sharp attempt at self-control and reassurance
+he altered his voice. "After all, we're being very stupid!" he
+exclaimed. "We're worrying over something that doesn't exist."
+
+Lillian was still lazily interested. To her own belief, she had seen
+Chilcote last on the night of her sister's reception. Then she had
+been too preoccupied to notice either his manner or his health, though
+superficially it had lingered in her mind that he had seemed unusually
+reliant, unusually well on that night. A remembrance of the impression
+came to her now as she studied his face, upon which imperceptibly and
+yet relentlessly his vice was setting its mark--in the dull restlessness
+of eye, the unhealthy sallowness of skin.
+
+Some shred of her thought, some suggestion of the comparison running
+through her mind, must have shown in her face, for Chilcote altered his
+position with a touch of uneasiness. He glanced away across the long
+sweep of tan-covered drive stretching between the trees; then he glanced
+furtively back.
+
+"By-the-way," he said, quickly, "you wanted me for something?" The
+memory of her earlier suggestion came as a sudden boon.
+
+She lifted her muff again and smelled her roses thoughtfully. "Oh, it
+was nothing, really," she said. "You sarcastic people give very shrewd
+suggestions sometimes, and I've been rather wanting a suggestion on
+an--an adventure that I've had." She looked down at her flowers with a
+charmingly attentive air.
+
+But Chilcote's restlessness had increased. Looking up, she suddenly
+caught the expression, and her own face changed.
+
+"My dear Jack," she said, softly, "what a bore I am! Let's forget
+tedious things--and enjoy ourselves." She leaned towards him caressingly
+with an air of concern and reproach.
+
+The action was not without effect. Her soothing voice, her smile, her
+almost affectionate gesture, each carried weight. With a swift return of
+assurance he responded to her tone.
+
+"Right!" he said. "Right! We will enjoy ourselves!" He laughed quickly,
+and again with a conscious movement lifted his hand to his muffler.
+
+"Then we'll postpone the advice?" Lillian laughed, too.
+
+"Yes. Right! We'll postpone it." The word pleased him and he caught at
+it. "We won't bother about it now, but we won't shelve it altogether.
+We'll postpone it."
+
+"Exactly." She settled herself more comfortably. "You'll dine with
+me one night--and we can talk it out then. I see so little of you
+nowadays," she added, in a lower voice.
+
+"My dear girl, you're unfair!" Chilcote's spirits had risen; he spoke
+rapidly, almost pleasantly. "It isn't I who keep away--it's the stupid
+affairs of the world that keep me. I'd be with you every hour of the
+twelve if I had my way."
+
+She looked up at the bare trees. Her expression was a delightful mixture
+of amusement, satisfaction, and scepticism. "Then you will dine?" she
+said at last.
+
+"Certainly." His reaction to high spirits carried him forward.
+
+"How nice! Shall we fix a day?"
+
+"A day? Yes. Yes--if you like." He hesitated for an instant, then again
+the impulse of the previous moment dominated his other feeling. "Yes,"
+he said, quickly. "Yes. After all, why not fix it now?" With a sudden
+inclination towards amiability he opened his overcoat, thrust his hand
+into an inner pocket, and drew out his engagement-book--the same
+long, narrow book fitted with two pencils that Loder had scanned so
+interestedly on his first morning at Grosvenor Square. He opened it,
+turning the pages rapidly. "What day shall it be? Thursday's full--and
+Friday--and Saturday. What a bore!" He still talked fast.
+
+Lillian leaned across. "What a sweet book!" she said. "But why the blue
+crosses?" She touched one of the pages with her gloved finger.
+
+Chilcote jerked the book, then laughed with a touch of embarrassment.
+"Oh, the crosses? Merely to remind me that certain 'appointments must be
+kept. You know my beastly memory! But what about the day? Shall we fix
+the day?" His voice was in control, but mentally her trivial question
+had disturbed and jarred him. "What day shall we say?" he repeated.
+"Monday in next week?"
+
+Lillian glanced up with a faint exclamation of disappointment. "How
+horribly faraway!" She spoke with engaging petulance, and, leaning
+forward afresh, drew the book from Chilcote's hand. "What about
+to-morrow?" she exclaimed, turning back a page. "Why not to-morrow? I
+knew I saw a blank space."
+
+"To-morrow! Oh, I--I--" He stopped.
+
+"Jack!" Her voice dropped. It was true that she desired Chilcote's
+opinion on her adventure, for Chilcote's opinion on men and manners had
+a certain bitter shrewdness; but the exercise of her own power added a
+point to the desire. If the matter had ended with the gain or loss of
+a tete-a-tete with him, it is probable that, whatever its utility, she
+would not have pressed it, but the underlying motive was the stronger.
+Chilcote had been a satellite for years, and it was unpleasant that any
+satellite should drop away into space.
+
+"Jack!" she said again, in a lower and still more effective tone; and,
+lifting her muff, she buried her face in her flowers. "I suppose I shall
+have to dine and go to a music-hall with Leonard--or stay at home by
+myself," she murmured, looking out across the trees.
+
+Again Chilcote glanced over the long, tan-strewn ride. They had made the
+full circuit of the park.
+
+"It's tiresome being by one's self," she murmured.
+
+For a while he was irresponsive, then slowly his eyes returned to her
+face. He watched her for a second, and, leaning quickly towards her, he
+took his book and scribbled something in the vacant space.
+
+She watched him interestedly; her face lighted up, and she laid aside
+her muff.
+
+"Dear Jack!" she said. "How very sweet of you!"
+
+Then, as he held the book towards her, her face fell. "Dine 33 Cadogan
+Gardens, 8 o'c. Talk with L.," she read. "Why, you've forgotten the
+essential thing!"
+
+He looked up. "The essential thing?"
+
+She smiled. "The blue cross," she said. "Isn't it worth even a little
+one?"
+
+The tone was very soft. Chilcote yielded.
+
+"You have the blue pencil," he said, in sudden response to her mood.
+
+She glanced up in quiet pleasure at her Success, and, with a charming
+affectation of seriousness, marked the engagement with a big cross. At
+the same moment the car slackened speed, as the chauffeur waited for
+further orders.
+
+Lillian shut the engagement-book and handed it back. "Where can I drop
+you?" she asked. "At the club?"
+
+The question recalled him to a sense of present things. He thrust the
+book into his pocket and glanced about him.
+
+They had paused by Hyde Park corner. The crowd of horses and carriages
+had thinned as the hour of lunch drew near, and the wide roadway of the
+park had an air of added space. The suggested loneliness affected
+him. The tall trees, still bereft of leaves, and the colossal gateway
+incomprehensively stirred the sense of mental panic that sometimes
+seized him in face of vastness of space or of architecture. In one
+moment, Lillian, the appointment he had just made, the manner of its
+making--all left him. The world was filled with his own personality, his
+own immediate inclinations.
+
+"Don't bother about me!" he said, quickly. "I can get out here. You've
+been very good. It's been a delightful morning." With a hurried pressure
+of her fingers he rose and stepped from the car.
+
+Reaching the ground, he paused for a moment and raised his hat; then,
+without a second glance, he turned and walked rapidly away.
+
+Lillian sat watching him meditatively. She saw him pass through
+the gateway, saw him hail a hansom, then she remembered the waiting
+chauffeur.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+
+On the same day that Chilcote had parted with Lillian--but at three
+o'clock in the afternoon--Loder, dressed in Chilcote's clothes and with
+Chilcote's heavy overcoat slung over his arm, walked from Fleet Street
+to Grosvenor Square. He walked steadily, neither slowly nor yet fast.
+The elation of his last journey over the same ground was tempered by
+feelings he could not satisfactorily bracket even to himself. There was
+less of vehement elation and more of matured determination in his gait
+and bearing than there had been on that night, though the incidents of
+which they were the outcome were very complex.
+
+On reaching Chilcote's house he passed up-stairs; but, still following
+the routine of his previous return, he did not halt at Chilcote's door,
+but moved onward towards Eve's sitting-room and there paused.
+
+In that pause his numberless irregular thoughts fused into one.
+
+He had the same undefined sense of standing upon sacred ground that had
+touched him on the previous occasion, but the outcome of the sensation
+was different. This time he raised his hand almost immediately and
+tapped on the door.
+
+He waited, but no voice responded to his knock. With a sense of
+disappointment he knocked again; then, pressing his determination still
+further, he turned the handle and entered the room.
+
+No private room is without meaning--whether trivial or the reverse. In
+a room, perhaps more even than in speech, in look, or in work, does the
+impress of the individual make itself felt. There, on the wax of outer
+things, the inner self imprints its seal-enforces its fleeting claim to
+separate individuality. This thought, with its arresting interest, made
+Loder walk slowly, almost seriously, half-way across the room and then
+pause to study his surroundings.
+
+The room was of medium size--not too large for comfort and not too
+small for ample space. At a first impression it struck him as unlike any
+anticipation of a woman's sanctum. The walls panelled in dark wood; the
+richly bound books; the beautifully designed bronze ornaments; even
+the flowers, deep crimson and violet-blue in tone, had an air of sombre
+harmony that was scarcely feminine. With a strangely pleasant impression
+he realized this, and, following his habitual impulse, moved slowly
+forward towards the fireplace and there paused, his elbow resting on the
+mantel-piece.
+
+He had scarcely settled comfortably into his position, scarcely entered
+on his second and more comprehensive study of the place, than the
+arrangement of his mind was altered by the turning of the handle and the
+opening of the door.
+
+The new-comer was Eve herself. She was dressed in outdoor clothes, and
+walked into the room quickly; then, as Loder had done, she too paused.
+
+The gesture, so natural and spontaneous, had a peculiar attraction;
+as she glanced up at him, her face alight with inquiry, she seemed
+extraordinarily much the owner and designer of her surroundings. She
+was framed by them as naturally and effectively as her eyes and her
+face were framed by her black hair. For one moment he forgot that
+his presence demanded explanation; the next she had made explanation
+needless. She had been looking at him intently; now she came forward
+slowly.
+
+"John?" she said, half in appeal, half in question.
+
+He took a step towards her. "Look at me," he said, quietly and
+involuntarily. In the sharp desire to establish himself in her regard he
+forgot that her eyes had never left his face.
+
+But the incongruity of the words did not strike her. "Oh!" she
+exclaimed, "I--I believe I _knew_, directly I saw you here." The quick
+ring of life vibrating in her tone surprised him. But he had other
+thoughts more urgent than surprise.
+
+In the five days of banishment just lived through, the need for
+a readjustment of his position with regard to her had come to him
+forcibly. The memory of the night when weakness and he had been
+at perilously close quarters had returned to him persistently and
+uncomfortably, spoiling the remembrance of his triumph. It had been well
+enough to smother the thought of that night in days of work. But had
+the ignoring of it blotted out the weakness? Had it not rather thrown it
+into bolder relief? A man strong in his own strength does not turn his
+back upon temptation; he faces and quells it. In the solitary days in
+Clifford's Inn, in the solitary night-hours spent in tramping the city
+streets, this had been the conviction that had recurred again and again,
+this the problem to which, after much consideration, he had found a
+solution--satisfactory at least to himself. When next Chilcote called
+him--It was notable that he had used the word "when" and not "if." When
+next Chilcote called him he would make a new departure. He would no
+longer avoid Eve; he would successfully prove to himself that one
+interest and one alone filled his mind--the pursuance of Chilcote's
+political career. So does man satisfactorily convince himself against
+himself. He had this intention fully in mind as he came forward now.
+
+"Well," he said, slowly, "has it been very hard to have faith--these
+last five days?" It was not precisely the tone he had meant to adopt;
+but one must begin.
+
+Eve turned at his words. Her eyes were brimming with life, her cheeks
+still touched to a deep, soft color by the keenness of the wintry air.
+
+"No," she answered, with a shy, responsive touch of confidence. "I
+seemed to keep on believing. You know converts make the best devotees."
+She laughed with slight embarrassment, and glanced up at him. Something
+in the blue of her eyes reminded him unexpectedly of spring skies--full
+of youth and promise.
+
+He moved abruptly, and crossed the room towards the window. "Eve," he
+said, without looking round, "I want your help."
+
+He heard the faint rustling of her dress as she turned towards him, and
+he knew that he had struck the right chord. All true women respond to
+an appeal for aid as steel answers to the magnet. He could feel her
+expectancy in the silence.
+
+"You know--we all know--that the present moment is very vital. That it's
+impossible to deny the crisis in the air. Nobody feels it more than I
+do--nobody is more exorbitantly keen to have a share--a part, when the
+real fight comes--" He stopped; then he turned slowly and their
+eyes met. "If a man is to succeed in such a desire," he went on,
+deliberately, "he must exclude all others--he must have one purpose, one
+interest, one thought. He must forget that--"
+
+Eve lifted her head quickly. "--that he has a wife," she finished,
+gently. "I think I understand."
+
+There was no annoyance in her face or voice, no suggestion of
+selfishness or of hurt vanity. She had read his meaning with
+disconcerting clearness, and responded with disconcerting generosity. A
+sudden and very human dissatisfaction with his readjustment scheme fell
+upon Loder. Opposition is the whip to action; a too-ready acquiescence
+the slackened rein.
+
+"Did I say that?" he asked, quickly. The tone was almost Chilcote's.
+
+She glanced up; then a sudden, incomprehensible smile lighted up her
+face.
+
+"You didn't say, but you thought," she answered, gravely. "Thoughts are
+the same as words to a woman. That's why we are so unreasonable." Again
+she smiled. Some idea, baffling and incomprehensible to Loder, was
+stirring in her mind.
+
+Conscious of the impression, he moved still nearer. "You jump to
+conclusions," he said, abruptly. "What I meant to imply--"
+
+"--was precisely what I've understood." Again she finished his sentence.
+Then she laughed softly. "How very wise, but how very, very foolish men
+are! You come to the conclusion that because a woman is--is interested
+in you she is going to hamper you in some direction, and after infinite
+pains you summon all your tact and you set about saving the situation."
+
+There was interest, even a touch of amusement, in her tone, her eyes
+were still fixed upon his in an indefinable glance. "You think you are
+being very diplomatic," she went on, quietly, "but in reality you are
+being very transparent. The woman reads the whole of your meaning in
+your very first sentence--if she hasn't known it before you began to
+speak."
+
+Again Loder made an interruption, but again she checked him. "No," she
+said, still smiling. "You should never attempt such a task. Shall I tell
+you why?"
+
+He stood silent, puzzled and interested.
+
+"Because," she said, quickly, "when a woman really is--interested,
+the man's career ranks infinitely higher in her eyes than any personal
+desire for power."
+
+For a moment their eyes met, then abruptly Loder looked away. She had
+gauged his intentions incorrectly, yet with disconcerting insight.
+Again the suggestion of an unusual personality below the serenity of her
+manner recurred to his imagination.
+
+With an impulse altogether foreign to him he lifted his head and again
+met her glance. Then at last he spoke, but only two words. "Forgive me!"
+he said, with simple, direct sincerity.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+
+After his interview with Eve, Loder retired to the study and spent the
+remaining hours of the day and the whole span of the evening in work. At
+one o'clock, still feeling fresh in mind and body, he dismissed Greening
+and passed into Chilcote's bedroom. The interview with Eve, though
+widely different from the one he had anticipated, had left him
+stimulated and alert. In the hours that followed it there had been an
+added anxiety to put his mind into harness, an added gratification in
+finding it answer to the rein.
+
+A pleasant sense of retrospection settled upon him as he slowly
+undressed; and a pleasant sense of interest touched him as, crossing to
+the dressing-table, he caught sight of Chilcote's engagement-book--taken
+with other things from the suit he had changed at dinner-time and
+carefully laid aside by Renwick.
+
+He picked it up and slowly turned the pages. It always held the
+suggestion of a lottery--this dipping into another man's engagements and
+drawing a prize or a blank. It was a sensation that even custom had not
+dulled.
+
+At first he turned the pages slowly, then by degrees his fingers
+quickened. Beyond the fact that this present evening was free, he knew
+nothing of his promised movements. The abruptness of Chilcote's arrival
+at Clifford's Inn in the afternoon had left no time for superfluous
+questions. He skimmed the writing with a touch of interested haste, then
+all at once he paused and smiled.
+
+"Big enough for a tombstone!" he said below his breath as his eyes
+rested on a large blue cross. Then he smiled again and held the book to
+the light.
+
+"Dine 33 Cadogan Gardens, 8 o'c. Talk with L," he read, still speaking
+softly to himself.
+
+He stood for a moment pondering on the entry, then once more his glance
+reverted to the cross.
+
+"Evidently meant it to be seen," he mused; "but why the deuce isn't he
+more explicit?" As he spoke, a look of comprehension suddenly crossed
+his face and the puzzled frown between his eyebrows cleared away.
+
+With a feeling of satisfaction he remembered Lakely's frequent and
+pressing suggestion that he should dine with him at Cadogan Gardens and
+discuss the political outlook.
+
+Lakely must have written during his absence, and Chilcote, having marked
+the engagement, felt no further responsibility. The invitation could
+scarcely have been verbal, as Chilcote, he knew, had lain very low in
+the five days of his return home.
+
+So he argued, as he stood with the book still open in his hands, the
+blue cross staring imperatively from the white paper. And from the
+argument rose thoughts and suggestions that seethed in his mind long
+after the lights had been switched off, long after the fire had died
+down and he had been left wrapped in darkness in the great canopied bed.
+
+And so it came about that he took his second false step. Once during
+the press of the next morning's work it crossed his mind to verify his
+convictions by a glance at the directory. But for once the strong wish
+that evolves a thought conquered his caution. His work was absorbing;
+the need of verification seemed very small. He let the suggestion pass.
+
+At seven o'clock he dressed carefully. His mind was full of Lakely and
+of the possibilities the night might hold; for more than once before,
+the weight of the 'St. George's Gazette', with Lakely at its back, had
+turned the political scales. To be marked by him as a coming man was at
+any time a favorable portent; to be singled out by him at the present
+juncture was momentous. A thrill of expectancy, almost of excitement,
+passed through him as he surveyed his appearance preparatory to leaving
+the house.
+
+Passing down-stairs, he moved at once to the hall door; but almost as
+his hand touched it he halted, attracted by a movement on the landing
+above him. Turning, he saw Eve.
+
+She was standing quite still, looking down upon him as she had looked
+once before. As their eyes met, she changed her position hastily.
+
+"You are going out?" she asked. And it struck Loder quickly that there
+was a suggestion, a shadow of disappointment in the tone of her voice.
+Moved by the impression, he responded with unusual promptness.
+
+"Yes," he said. "I'm dining out--dining with Lakely."
+
+She watched him intently while he spoke; then, as the meaning of his
+words reached her, her whole face brightened.
+
+"With Mr. Lakely?" she said. "Oh, I'm glad--very glad. It is
+quite--quite another step." She smiled with a warm, impulsive touch of
+sympathy.
+
+Loder, looking up at her, felt his senses stir. At sound of her words
+his secret craving for success quickened to stronger life. The man whose
+sole incentive lies within may go forward coldly and successfully; but
+the man who grasps a double inspiration, who, even unconsciously, is
+impelled by another force, has a stronger impetus for attack, a surer,
+more vital hewing power. Still watching her, he answered instinctively--
+
+"Yes," he said, slowly, "a long step." And, with a smile of farewell, he
+turned, opened the door, and passed into the road.
+
+The thrill of that one moment was still warm as he reached Cadogan
+Gardens and mounted the steps of No. 33--so vitally warm that he
+paused for an instant before pressing the electric bell. Then at last,
+dominated by anticipation, he turned and raised his hand.
+
+The action was abrupt, and it was only as his fingers pressed the bell
+that a certain unexpectedness, a certain want of suitability in the
+aspect of the house, struck him. The door was white, the handle and
+knocker were of massive silver. The first seemed a disappointing index
+of Lakely's private taste, the second a ridiculous temptation to needy
+humanity. He looked again at the number of the house, but it stared back
+at him convincingly. Then the door opened.
+
+So keen was his sense of unfitness that, still trying to fuse his
+impression of Lakely with the idea of silver door-fittings, he stepped
+into the hall without the usual preliminary question. Suddenly realizing
+the necessity, he turned to the servant; but the man forestalled him:
+
+"Will you come to the white room, sir? And may I take your coat?"
+
+The smooth certainty of the man's manner surprised him. It held another
+savor of disappointment--seeming as little in keeping with the keen,
+business-like Lakely as did the house. Still struggling with his
+impression, he allowed himself to be relieved of his hat and coat and in
+silence ushered up the shallow staircase.
+
+As the last step was reached it came to him again to mention his host's
+name; but simultaneously with the suggestion the servant stepped forward
+with a quick, silent movement and threw open a door.
+
+"Mr. Chilcote!" he announced, in a subdued, discreet voice.
+
+Loder's first impression was of a room that seemed unusually luxurious,
+soft, and shadowed. Then all impression of inanimate things left him
+suddenly.
+
+For the fraction of a second he stood in the door-way, while the room
+seemed emptied of everything, except a figure that rose slowly from a
+couch before the fire at sound of Chilcote's name; then, with a calmness
+that to himself seemed incredible, he moved forward into the room.
+
+He might, of course, have beaten a retreat and obviated many things;
+but life is full of might-have-beens, and retreat never presents itself
+agreeably to a strong man. His impulse was to face the difficulty, and
+he acted on the impulse.
+
+Lillian had risen slowly; and as he neared her she held out her hand.
+
+"Jack!" she exclaimed, softly. "How sweet of you to remember!"
+
+The voice and words came to him with great distinctness, and as they
+came one uncertainty passed forever from his mind--the question as to
+what relation she and Chilcote held to each other. With the realization
+came the thought of Eve, and in the midst of his own difficulty his face
+hardened.
+
+Lillian ignored the coldness. Taking his hand, she smiled. "You're
+unusually punctual," she said. "But your hands are cold. Come closer to
+the fire."
+
+Loder was not sensible that his hands were cold, but he suffered himself
+to be drawn forward.
+
+One end of the couch was in firelight, the other in shadow. By a
+fortunate arrangement of chance Lillian selected the brighter end
+for herself and offered the other to her guest. With a quick sense of
+respite he accepted it. At least he could sit secure from detection
+while he temporized with fate.
+
+For a moment they sat silent, then Lillian stirred. "Won't you smoke?"
+she asked.
+
+Everything in the room seemed soft and enervating--the subdued glow of
+the fire, the smell of roses that hung about the air, and, last of all,
+Lillian's slow, soothing voice. With a sense of oppression he stiffened
+his shoulders and sat straighter in his place.
+
+"No," he said, "I don't think I shall smoke."
+
+She moved nearer to him. "Dear Jack," she said, pleadingly, "don't say
+you're in a bad mood. Don't say you want to postpone again." She looked
+up at him and laughed a little in mock consternation.
+
+Loder was at a loss.
+
+Another silence followed, while Lillian waited; then she frowned
+suddenly and rose from the couch. Like many indolent people, she
+possessed a touch of obstinacy; and now that her triumph over Chilcote
+was obtained, now that she had vindicated her right to command him, her
+original purpose came uppermost again. Cold or interested, indifferent
+or attentive, she intended to make use of him.
+
+She moved to the fire and stood looking down into it.
+
+"Jack," she began, gently, "a really amazing thing has happened to me. I
+do so want you to throw some light."
+
+Loder said nothing.
+
+There was a fresh pause while she softly smoothed the silk embroidery
+that edged her gown. Then once more she looked up at him.
+
+"Did I ever tell you," she began, "that I was once in a railway accident
+on a funny little Italian railway, centuries before I met you?" She
+laughed softly; and with a pretty air of confidence turned from the fire
+and resumed her seat.
+
+"Astrupp had caught a fever in Florence, and I was rushing away for fear
+of the infection, when our stupid little train ran off the rails near
+Pistoria and smashed itself up. Fortunately we were within half a mile
+of a village, so we weren't quite bereft. The village was impossibly
+like a toy village, and the accommodation what one would expect in
+a Noah's Ark, but it was all absolutely picturesque. I put up at the
+little inn with my maid and Ko Ko--Ko Ko was such a sweet dog--a white
+poodle. I was tremendously keen on poodles that year." She stopped and
+looked thoughtfully towards the fire.
+
+"But to come to the point of the story, Jack, the toy village had a boy
+doll!" She laughed again. "He was an Englishman--and the first person
+to come to my rescue on the night of the smash-up. He was staying at the
+Noah's Ark inn; and after that first night I--he--we--Oh, Jack, haven't
+you any imagination?" Her voice sounded petulant and sharp. The man who
+is indifferent to the recital of an old love affair implies the worst
+kind of listener. "I believe you aren't interested," she added, in
+another and more reproachful tone.
+
+He leaned forward. "You're wrong there," he said, slowly. "I'm deeply
+interested."
+
+She glanced at him again. His tone reassured her, but his words left her
+uncertain; Chilcote was rarely emphatic. With a touch of hesitation she
+went on with her tale:
+
+"As I told you, he was the first to find us--to find me, I should say,
+for my stupid maid was having hysterics farther up the line, and Ko Ko
+was lost. I remember the first thing I did was to send him in search of
+Ko Ko--"
+
+Notwithstanding his position, Loder found occasion to smile. "Did he
+succeed?" he said, dryly.
+
+"Succeed? Oh yes, he succeeded." She also smiled involuntarily. "Poor
+Ko Ko was stowed away under the luggage-van; and after quite a lot of
+trouble he pulled him out. When it was all done the dog was quite unhurt
+and livelier than ever, but the Englishman had his finger almost bitten
+through. Ko Ko was a dear, but his teeth and his temper were both very
+sharp!" She laughed once more in soft amusement.
+
+Loder was silent for a second, then he too laughed--Chilcote's short,
+sarcastic laugh. "And you tied up the wound, I suppose?"
+
+She glanced up, half displeased. "We were both staying at the little
+inn," she said, as though no further explanation could be needed. Then
+again her manner changed. She moved imperceptibly nearer and touched his
+right hand. His left, which was farther away from her, was well in the
+shadow of the cushions.
+
+"Jack," she said, caressingly, "it isn't to tell you this stupid old
+story that I've brought you here; it's really to tell you a sort of
+sequel." She stroked his hand gently once or twice. "As I say, I
+met this man and we--we had an affair. You understand? Then we
+quarrelled--quarrelled quite badly--and I came away. I've remembered him
+rather longer than I remember most people--he was one of those dogged
+individuals who stick in one's mind. But he has stayed in mine for
+another reason--" Again she looked up. "He has stayed because you helped
+to keep him there. You know how I have sometimes put my hands over your
+mouth and told you that your eyes reminded me of some one else? Well,
+that some one else was my Englishman. But you mustn't be jealous; he
+was a horrid, obstinate person, and you--well, you know what I think
+of you--" She pressed his hand. "But to come to the end of the story, I
+never saw this man since that long-ago time, until--until the night of
+Blanche's party!" She spoke slowly, to give full effect to her words;
+then she waited for his surprise.
+
+But the result was not what she expected. He said nothing; and, with an
+abrupt movement, he drew his hand from between hers.
+
+"Aren't you surprised?" she asked at last, with a delicate note of
+reproof.
+
+He started slightly, as if recalled to the necessity of the moment.
+"Surprised?" he said. "Why should I be surprised? One person more or
+less at a big party isn't astonishing. Besides, you expect a man to turn
+up sooner or later in his own country. Why should I be surprised?"
+
+She lay back luxuriously. "Because, my dear boy," she said, softly,
+"it's a mystery! It's one of those fascinating mysteries that come once
+in a lifetime."
+
+Loder made no movement. "You must explain," he said, very quietly.
+
+Lillian smiled. "That's just what I want to do. When I was in my tent on
+the night of Blanche's party, a man came to be gazed for. He came just
+like anybody else, and laid his hands upon the table. He had strong,
+thin hands like--well, rather like yours But he wore two rings on the
+third finger of his left hand--a heavy signet-ring and a plain gold
+one."
+
+Loder moved his hand imperceptibly till the cushion covered it.
+Lillian's words caused him no surprise, scarcely even any trepidation.
+He felt now that he had expected them, even waited for them, all along.
+
+"I asked him to, take off his rings," she went on, "and just for a
+second he hesitated--I could feel him hesitate; then he seemed to make
+up his mind, for he drew them off. He drew them off, Jack, and guess
+what I saw! Do guess!"
+
+For the first time Loder involuntarily drew back into his corner of the
+couch. "I never guess," he said, brusquely.
+
+"Then I'll tell you. His hands were the hands of my Englishman! The
+rings covered the scar made by Ko Ko's teeth. I knew it instantly--the
+second my eyes rested on it. It was the same scar that I had bound up
+dozens of times--that I had seen healed before I left Santasalare."
+
+"And you? What did you do?" Loder felt it singularly difficult and
+unpleasant to speak.
+
+"Ah, that's the point. That's where I was stupid and made my mistake. I
+should have spoken to him on the moment, but I didn't. You know how one
+sometimes hesitates. Afterwards it was too late."
+
+"But you saw him afterwards--in the rooms?" Loder spoke unwillingly.
+
+"No, I didn't--that's the other point. I didn't see him in the rooms,
+and I haven't seen him since. Directly he was gone, I left the tent--I
+pretended to be hungry and bored; but, though I went through every room,
+he was nowhere to be found. Once--" she hesitated and laughed
+again--"once I thought I had found him, but it was only you--you, as you
+stood in that door-way with your mouth and chin hidden by Leonard
+Kaine's head. Wasn't it a quaint mistake?"
+
+There was an uncertain pause. Then Loder, feeling the need of speech,
+broke the silence suddenly. "Where do I come in?" he asked abruptly.
+"What am I wanted for?"
+
+"To help to throw light on the mystery! I've seen Blanche's list of
+people, and there wasn't a man I couldn't place--no outsider ever
+squeezes through Blanche's door. I have questioned Bobby Blessington,
+but he can't remember who came to the tent last. And Bobby was supposed
+to have kept count!" She spoke in deep scorn; but almost immediately the
+scorn faded and she smiled again. "Now that I've explain ed, Jack," she
+added, "what do you suggest?"
+
+Then for the first time Loder knew what his presence in the room really
+meant; and at best the knowledge was disconcerting. It is not every day
+that a man is called upon to unearth himself.
+
+"Suggest?" he repeated, blankly.
+
+"Yes. I'd rather have your idea of the affair than anybody else's. You
+are so dear and sarcastic and keen that you can't help getting straight
+at the middle of a fact."
+
+When Lillian wanted anything she could be very sweet. She suddenly
+dropped her half-petulant tone; she suddenly ceased to be a spoiled
+child. With a perfectly graceful movement she drew quite close to Loder
+and slid gently to her knees.
+
+This is an attitude that few women can safely assume; it requires all
+the attributes of youth, suppleness, and a certain buoyant ease. But
+Lillian never acted without justification, and as she leaned towards
+Loder her face lifted, her slight figure and pale hair softened by
+the firelight, she made a picture that it would have been difficult to
+criticise.
+
+But the person who should have appreciated it stared steadily beyond it
+to the fire. His mind was absorbed by one question--the question of how
+he might reasonably leave the house before discovery became assured.
+
+Lillian, attentively watchful of him, saw the uneasy look, and her own
+face fell. But, as she looked, an inspiration came to her--a remembrance
+of many interviews with Chilcote smoothed and facilitated by the timely
+use of tobacco.
+
+"Jack," she said, softly, "before you say another word I insist on your
+lighting a cigarette." She leaned forward. resting against his knee.
+
+At her words Loder's eyes left the fire. His attention was suddenly
+needed for a new and more imminent difficulty. "Thanks!" he said,
+quickly. "I have no wish to smoke."
+
+"It isn't a matter of what you wish but of what I say." She smiled. She
+knew that Chilcote with a cigarette between his lips was infinitely
+more tractable than Chilcote sitting idle, and she had no intention of
+ignoring the knowledge.
+
+But Loder caught at her words. "Before you ordered me to smoke," he
+said, "you told me to give you some advice. Your first command must have
+prior claim." He grasped unhesitatingly at the less risky theme.
+
+She looked up at him. "You're always nicer when you smoke," she
+persisted, caressingly. "Light a cigarette--and give me one."
+
+Loder's mouth became set. "No," he said, "we'll stick to this advice
+business. It interests me."
+
+"Yes--afterwards."
+
+"No, now. You want to find out why this Englishman from Italy was at
+your sister's party, and why he disappeared?"
+
+There are times when a malignant obstinacy seems to affect certain
+people. The only answer Lillian made was to pass her hand over Loder's
+waistcoat, and, feeling his cigarette-case, to draw it from the pocket.
+
+He affected not to see it. "Do you think he recognized you in that
+tent?" he insisted, desperately.
+
+She held out the case. "Here are your cigarettes. You know we're always
+more social when we smoke."
+
+In the short interval while she looked up into his face several ideas
+passed through Loder's mind. He thought of standing up suddenly and
+so regaining his advantage; he wondered quickly whether one hand could
+possibly suffice for the taking out and lighting of two cigarettes. Then
+all need for speculation was pushed suddenly aside.
+
+Lillian, looking into his face, saw his fresh look of disturbance,
+and from long experience again changed her tactics. Laying the
+cigarette-case on the couch, she put one hand on his shoulder, the other
+on his left arm. Hundreds of times this caressing touch had quieted
+Chilcote.
+
+"Dear old boy!" she said, soothingly, her hand moving slowly down his
+arm.
+
+In a flash of understanding the consequences of this position came to
+him. Action was imperative, at whatever risk. With an abrupt gesture he
+rose.
+
+The movement was awkward. He got to his feet precipitately; Lillian drew
+back, surprised and startled, catching involuntarily at his left hand to
+steady her position.
+
+Her fingers grasped at, then held his. He made no effort to release
+them. With a dogged acknowledgment, he admitted himself worsted.
+
+How long she stayed immovable, holding his hand, neither of them knew.
+The process of a woman's instinct is so subtle, so obscure, that it
+would be futile to apply to it the commonplace test of time. She kept
+her hold tenaciously, as though his fingers possessed some peculiar
+virtue; then at last she spoke.
+
+"Rings, Jack?" she said, very slowly. And under the two short words a
+whole world of incredulity and surmise made itself felt.
+
+Loder laughed.
+
+At the sound she dropped his hand and rose from her knees. What her
+suspicions, what her instincts were she could not have clearly defined,
+but her action was unhesitating. Without a moment's uncertainty she
+turned to the fireplace, pressed the electric button, and flooded the
+room with light.
+
+There is no force so demoralizing as unexpected light. Loder took a step
+backward, his hand hanging unguarded by his side; and Lillian, stepping
+forward, caught it again before he could protest. Lifting it quickly,
+she looked scrutinizingly at the two rings.
+
+All women jump to conclusions, and it is extraordinary how seldom they
+jump short. Seeing only what Lillian saw, knowing only what she knew,
+no man would have staked a definite opinion; but the other sex takes a
+different view. As she stood gazing at the rings her thoughts and her
+conclusions sped through her mind like arrows--all aimed and all tending
+towards one point. She remembered the day when she and Chilcote had
+talked of doubles, her scepticism and his vehement defence of the idea;
+his sudden interest in the book 'Other Men's Shoes', and his anathema
+against life and its irksome round of duties. She remembered her own
+first convinced recognition of the eyes that had looked at her in
+the doorway of her sister's house; and, last of all, she remembered
+Chilcote's unaccountable avoidance of the same subject of likenesses
+when she had mentioned it yesterday driving through the Park--and
+with it his unnecessarily curt repudiation of his former opinions. She
+reviewed each item, then she raised her head slowly and looked at Loder.
+
+He was prepared for the glance and met it steadily.
+
+In the long moment that her eyes searched his face it was she and not he
+who changed color. She was the first to speak. "You were the man whose
+hands I saw in the tent," she said. She made the statement in her
+usual soft tones, but a slight tremor of excitement underran her voice.
+Poodles, Persian kittens, even crystal gazing-balls, seemed very far
+away in face of this tangible, fabulous, present interest. "You are not
+Jack Chilcote," she said, very slowly. "You are wearing his clothes, and
+speaking in his voice but you are not Jack Chilcote." Her tone quickened
+with a touch of excitement. "You needn't keep silent and look at me,"
+she said. "I know quite well what I am saying--though I don't understand
+it, though I have no real proof--" She paused, momentarily disconcerted
+by her companion's silent and steady gaze, and in the pause a curious
+and unexpected thing occurred.
+
+Loder laughed suddenly--a full, confident, reassured laugh. All the web
+that the past half-hour had spun about him, all the intolerable sense of
+an impending crash, lifted suddenly. He saw his way clearly--and it was
+Lillian who had opened his eyes.
+
+Still looking at her, he smiled--a smile of reliant determination,
+such as Chilcote had never worn in his life. And with a calm gesture he
+released his hand.
+
+"The greatest charm of woman is her imagination," he said, quietly.
+"Without it there would be no color in life; we would come into and drop
+out of it with the same uninteresting tone of drab reality." He paused
+and smiled again.
+
+At his smile, Lillian involuntarily drew back, the color deepening in
+her cheeks. "Why do you say that?" she asked.
+
+He lifted his head. With each moment he felt more certain of himself.
+"Because that is my attitude," he said. "As a man I admire your
+imagination, but as a man I fail to follow your reasoning."
+
+The words and the tone both stung her. "Do you realize the position?"
+she asked, sharply. "Do you realize that, whatever your plans are, I can
+spoil them?"
+
+Loder still met her eyes. "I realize nothing of the sort," he said.
+
+"Then you admit that you are not Jack Chilcote?"
+
+"I neither deny nor admit. My identity is obvious. I can get twenty men
+to swear to it at any moment that you like. The fact that I haven't worn
+rings till now will scarcely interest them."
+
+"But you do admit--to me, that you are not Jack?"
+
+"I deny nothing--and admit nothing. I still offer my congratulations."
+
+"Upon what?"
+
+"The same possession--your imagination."
+
+Lillian stamped her foot. Then, by a quick effort, she conquered
+her temper. "Prove me to be wrong!" she said, with a fresh touch of
+excitement. "Take off your rings and let me see your hand."
+
+With a deliberate gesture Loder put his hand behind his back. "I never
+gratify childish curiosity," he said, with another smile.
+
+Again a flash of temper crossed her eyes. "Are you sure," she said,
+"that it's quite wise to talk like that?"
+
+Loder laughed again. "Is that a threat?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"Then it's an empty one."
+
+"Why?"
+
+Before replying he waited a moment, looking down at her.
+
+"I conclude," he began, quietly, "that your idea is to spread this wild,
+improbable story--to ask people to believe that John Chilcote, whom they
+see before them, is not John Chilcote, but somebody else. Now you'll
+find that a harder task than you imagine. This is a sceptical world, and
+people are absurdly fond of their own eyesight. We are all journalists
+nowadays--we all want facts. The first thing you will be asked for is
+your proof. And what does your proof consist of? The circumstance that
+John Chilcote, who has always despised jewelry, has lately taken to
+wearing rings! Your own statement, unattended by any witnesses, that
+with those rings off his finger bears a scar belonging to another man!
+No; on close examination I scarcely imagine that your case would hold."
+He stopped, fired by his own logic. The future might be Chilcote's
+but the present was his; and this present--with its immeasurable
+possibilities--had been rescued from catastrophe. "No," he said, again.
+"When you get your proof perhaps we'll have another talk; but till
+then--"
+
+"Till then?" She looked up quickly; but almost at once her question died
+away.
+
+The door had opened, and the servant who had admitted Loder stood in the
+opening.
+
+"Dinner is served!" he announced, in his deferential voice.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+
+And Loder dined with Lillian Astrupp. We live in an age when society
+expects, even exacts, much. He dined, not through bravado and not
+through cowardice, but because it seemed the obvious, the only thing to
+do. To him a scene of any description was distasteful; to Lillian it was
+unknown. In her world people loved or hated, were spiteful or foolish,
+were even quixotic or dishonorable, but they seldom made scenes. Loder
+tacitly saw and tacitly accepted this.
+
+Possibly they ate extremely little during the course of the dinner, and
+talked extraordinarily much on subjects that interested neither; but the
+main point at least was gained. They dined. The conventionalities were
+appeased; the silent, watchful servants who waited on them were given no
+food for comment. The fact that Loder left immediately after dinner,
+the fact that he paused on the door-step after the hall door had
+closed behind him, and drew a long, deep breath of relief, held only an
+individual significance and therefore did not count.
+
+On reaching Chilcote's house he passed at once to the study and
+dismissed Greening for the night. But scarcely had he taken advantage
+of his solitude by settling into an arm-chair and lighting a cigar, than
+Renwick, displaying an unusual amount of haste and importance, entered
+the room carrying a letter.
+
+Seeing Loder, he came forward at once. "Mr. Fraide's man brought
+this, sir," he explained. "He was most particular to give it into my
+hands--making sure 'twould reach you. He's waiting for an answer, sir."
+
+Loder rose and took the letter, a quick thrill of speculation and
+interest springing across his mind. During his time of banishment he had
+followed the political situation with feverish attention, insupportably
+chafed by the desire to share in it, apprehensively chilled at
+the thought of Chilcote's possible behavior. He knew that in the
+comparatively short interval since Parliament had risen no act of
+aggression had marked the Russian occupation of Meshed, but he also
+knew that Fraide and his followers looked askance at that great power's
+amiable attitude, and at sight of his leader's message his intuition
+stirred.
+
+Turning to the nearest lamp, he tore the envelope open and scanned
+the letter anxiously. It was written in Fraide's own clear, somewhat
+old-fashioned writing, and opened with a kindly rebuke for his
+desertion of him since the day of his speech; then immediately, and with
+characteristic clearness, it opened up the subject nearest the writer's
+mind.
+
+Very slowly and attentively Loder read the letter; and with the extreme
+quiet that with him invariably covered emotion, he moved to the desk,
+wrote a note, and handed it to the waiting servant. As the man turned
+towards the door he called him.
+
+"Renwick!" he said, sharply, "when you've given that letter to Mr.
+Fraide's servant, ask Mrs. Chilcote if she can spare me five minutes."
+
+When Renwick had gone and closed the door behind him, Loder paced the
+room with feverish activity. In one moment the aspect of life had been
+changed. Five minutes since he had been glorying in the risk of a barely
+saved situation; now that situation with its merely social complications
+had become a matter of small importance.
+
+His long, striding steps had carried him to the fireplace, and his back
+was towards the door when at last the handle turned. He wheeled round to
+receive Eve's message; then a look of pleased surprise crossed his face.
+It was Eve herself who stood in the doorway.
+
+Without hesitation his lips parted. "Eve," he said, abruptly, "I
+have had great news! Russia has shown her teeth at last. Two caravans
+belonging to a British trader were yesterday interfered with by a band
+of Cossacks. The affair occurred a couple of miles outside Meshed;
+the traders remonstrated, but the Russians made summary use of their
+advantage. Two Englishmen were wounded and one of them has since died.
+Fraide has only now received the news--which cannot be overrated. It
+gives the precise lever necessary for the big move at the reassembling."
+He spoke with great earnestness and unusual haste. As he finished he
+took a step forward. "But that's not all!" he added. "Fraide wants the
+great move set in motion by a great speech--and he has asked me to make
+it."
+
+For a moment Eve waited. She looked at him in silence; and in that
+silence he read in her eyes the reflection of his own expression.
+
+"And you?" she asked, in a suppressed voice. "What answer did you give?"
+
+He watched her for an instant, taking a strange pleasure in her flushed
+face and brilliantly eager eyes; then the joy of conscious strength,
+the sense of opportunity regained, swept all other considerations out of
+sight.
+
+"I accepted," he said, quickly. "Could any man who was merely human have
+done otherwise?"
+
+That was Loder's attitude and action on the night of his jeopardy and
+his success, and the following day found his mood unchanged. He was one
+of those rare individuals who never give a promise overnight and regret
+it in the morning. He was slow to move, but when he did the movement
+brushed all obstacles aside. In the first days of his usurpation he had
+gone cautiously, half fascinated, half distrustful; then the reality,
+the extraordinary tangibility of the position had gripped him when,
+matching himself for the first time with men of his own caliber, he had
+learned his real weight on the day of his protest against the Easter
+adjournment. With that knowledge had been born the dominant factor in
+his whole scheme--the overwhelming, insistent desire to manifest his
+power. That desire that is the salvation or the ruin of every strong man
+who has once realized his strength. Supremacy was the note to which his
+ambition reached. To trample out Chilcote's footmarks with his own had
+been his tacit instinct from the first; now it rose paramount. It was
+the whole theory of creation--the survival of the fittest--the deep,
+egotistical certainty that he was the better man.
+
+And it was with this conviction that he entered on the vital period of
+his dual career. The imminent crisis, and his own share in it, absorbed
+him absolutely.
+
+In the weeks that followed his answer to Fraide's proposal he gave
+himself ungrudgingly to his work. He wrote, read, and planned with
+tireless energy; he frequently forgot to eat, and slept only through
+sheer exhaustion; in the fullest sense of the word he lived for the
+culminating hour that was to bring him failure or success.
+
+He seldom left Grosvenor Square in the days that followed, except to
+confer with his party. All his interest, all his relaxation even, lay in
+his work and what pertained to it. His strength was like a solid wall,
+his intelligence was sharp and keen as steel. The moment was his; and
+by sheer mastery of will he put other considerations out of sight. He
+forgot Chilcote and forgot Lillian--not because they escaped his memory,
+but because he chose to shut them from it.
+
+Of Eve he saw but little in this time of high pressure. When a man
+touches the core of his capacities, puts his best into the work that in
+his eyes stands paramount, there is little place for, and no need
+of, woman. She comes before--and after. She inspires, compensates, or
+completes; but the achievement, the creation, is man's alone. And all
+true women understand and yield to this unspoken precept.
+
+Eve watched the progress of his labor, and in the depth of her own heart
+the watching came nearer to actual living than any activity she had
+known. She was an on-looker--but an on-looker who stood, as it were, on
+the steps of the arena, who, by a single forward movement, could feel
+the sand under her feet, the breath of the battle on her face; and in
+this knowledge she rested satisfied.
+
+There were hours when Loder seemed scarcely conscious of her existence;
+but on those occasions she smiled in her serene way--and went on
+waiting. She knew that each day, before the afternoon had passed, he
+would come into her sitting-room, his face thoughtful, his hands full
+of books or papers, and, dropping into one of the comfortable, studious
+chairs, would ask laconically for tea. This was her moment of triumph
+and recompense--for the very unconsciousness of his coming doubled its
+value. He would sit for half an hour with a preoccupied glance, or with
+keen, alert eyes fixed on the fire, while his ideas sorted themselves
+and fell into line. Sometimes he was silent for the whole half-hour,
+sometimes he commented to himself as he scanned his notes; but on other
+and rarer occasions he talked, speaking his thoughts and his theories
+aloud, with the enjoyment of a man who knows himself fully in his
+depth, while Eve sipped her tea or stitched peacefully at a strip of
+embroidery.
+
+On these occasions she made a perfect listener. Here and there she
+encouraged him with an intelligent remark, but she never interrupted.
+She knew when to be silent and when to speak; when to merge her own
+individuality and when to make it felt. In these days of stress and
+preparation he came to her unconsciously for rest; he treated her as he
+might have treated a younger brother--relying on her discretion,
+turning to her as by right for sympathy, comprehension, and friendship.
+Sometimes, as they sat silent in the richly colored, homelike room, Eve
+would pause over her embroidery and let her thoughts spin momentarily
+forward--spin towards the point where, the brunt of his ordeal passed,
+he must, of necessity, seek something beyond mere rest. But there her
+thoughts would inevitably break off and the blood flame quickly into her
+cheek.
+
+Meanwhile Loder worked persistently. With each day that brought the
+crisis of Fraide's scheme nearer, his activity increased--and with it
+an intensifying of the nervous strain. For if he had his hours of
+exaltation, he also had his hours of black apprehension. It is all very
+well to exorcise a ghost by sheer strength of will, but one has also
+to eliminate the idea that gave it existence. Lillian Astrupp, with
+her unattested evidence and her ephemeral interest, gave him no real
+uneasiness; but Chilcote and Chilcote's possible summons were matters
+of graver consideration; and there were times when they loomed very dark
+and sinister: What if at the very moment of fulfilment--? But invariably
+he snapped the thread of the supposition and turned with fiercer ardor
+to his work of preparation.
+
+And so the last morning of his probation dawned, and for the first time
+he breathed freely.
+
+He rose early on the day that was to witness his great effort and
+dressed slowly. It was a splendid morning; the spirit of the spring
+seemed embodied in the air, in the pale-blue sky, in the shafts of cool
+sunshine that danced from the mirror to the dressing-table, from the
+dressing-table to the pictures on the walls of Chilcote's vast room.
+Inconsequently with its dancing rose a memory of the distant past--a
+memory of long-forgotten days when, as a child, he had been bidden to
+watch the same sun perform the same fantastic evolutions. The sight and
+the thought stirred him curiously with an unlooked-for sense of youth.
+He drew himself together with an added touch of decision as he passed
+out into the corridor; and as he walked down-stairs he whistled a bar or
+two of an inspiriting tune.
+
+In the morning-room Eve was already waiting. She looked up, colored, and
+smiled as he entered. Her face looked very fresh and young and she wore
+a gown of the same pale blue that she had worn on his first coming.
+
+She looked up from an open letter as he came into the room, and the
+sun that fell through the window caught her in a shaft of light,
+intensifying her blue eyes, her blue gown, and the bunch of violets
+fastened in her belt. To Loder, still under the influence of early
+memories, she seemed the embodiment of some youthful ideal--something
+lost, sought for, and found again. Realization of his feeling for her
+almost came to him as he stood there looking at her. It hovered about
+him; it tipped him, as it were, with its wings; then it rose again and
+soared away. Men like him--men keen to grasp an opening where their
+careers are concerned, and tenacious to hold it when once grasped--are
+frequently the last to look into their own hearts. He glanced at Eve, he
+acknowledged the stir of his feeling, but he made no attempt to define
+its cause. He could no more have given reason for his sensations than he
+could have told the precise date upon which, coming down-stairs at eight
+o'clock, he had first found her waiting breakfast for him. The time when
+all such incidents were to stand out, each to a nicety in its appointed
+place, had not yet arrived. For the moment his youth had returned to
+him; he possessed the knowledge of work done, the sense of present
+companionship in a world of agreeable things; above all, the steady,
+quiet conviction of his own capacity. All these things came to him in
+the moment of his entering the room, greeting Eve, and passing to the
+breakfast-table; then, while his eyes still rested contentedly on the
+pleasant array of china and silver, while his senses were still alive to
+the fresh, earthly scent of Eve's violets, the blow so long dreaded--so
+slow in coming fell with accumulated force.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+
+The letter through which the blow fell was not voluminous. It was
+written on cheap paper in a disguised hand, and the contents covered
+only half a page. Loder read it slowly, mentally articulating every
+word; then he laid it down, and as he did so he caught Eve's eyes raised
+in concern. Again he saw something of his own feelings reflected in her
+face, and the shock braced him; he picked up the letter, tearing it into
+strips.
+
+"I must go out," he said, slowly. "I must go now--at once." His voice
+was hard.
+
+Eve's surprised, concerned eyes still searched his. "Now--at once?" she
+repeated. "Now--without breakfast?"
+
+"I'm not hungry." He rose from his seat, and, carrying the slips of
+paper across the room, dropped them into the fire. He did it, not so
+much from caution, as from an imperative wish to do something, to move,
+if only across the room.
+
+Eve's glance followed him. "Is it bad news?" she asked, anxiously. It
+was unlike her to be insistent, but she was moved to the impulse by the
+peculiarity of the moment.
+
+"No," he said shortly. "It's--business. This was written yesterday; I
+should have got it last night."
+
+Her eyes widened. "But nobody does business at eight in the morning--"
+she began, in astonishment; then she suddenly broke off.
+
+Without apology or farewell, Loder had left the fireplace and walked out
+of the room.
+
+He passed through the hall hurriedly, picking up a hat as he went; and,
+reaching the pavement outside, he went straight forward until Grosvenor
+Square was left behind; then he ran. At the risk of reputation, at
+the loss of dignity, he ran until he saw a cab. Hailing it, he sprang
+inside, and, as the cabman whipped up and the horse responded to the
+call, he realized for the first time the full significance of what had
+occurred.
+
+Realization, like the need for action, came to him slowly, but when it
+came it was with terrible lucidity. He did not swear as he leaned back
+in his seat, mechanically watching the stream of men on their way to
+business, the belated cars of green produce blocking the way between
+the Strand and Covent Garden. He had no use for oaths; his feelings
+lay deeper than mere words. But his mouth was sternly set and his eyes
+looked cold.
+
+Outside the Law Courts he dismissed his cab and walked forward to
+Clifford's Inn. As he passed through the familiar entrance a chill fell
+on him. In the clear, early light it seemed more than ever a place of
+dead hopes, dead enterprises, dead ambitions. In the onward march of
+life it had been forgotten. The very air had a breath of unfulfilment.
+
+He crossed the court rapidly, but his mouth set itself afresh as he
+passed through the door-way of his own house and crossed the bare hall.
+
+As he mounted the well-known stairs, he received his first indication of
+life in the appearance of a cat from the second-floor rooms. At sight of
+him, the animal came forward, rubbed demonstratively against his legs,
+and with affectionate persistence followed him up-stairs.
+
+Outside his door he paused. On the ground stood the usual morning can of
+milk--evidence that Chilcote was not yet awake or that, like himself, he
+had no appetite for breakfast. He smiled ironically as the idea struck
+him, but it was a smile that stiffened rather than relaxed his lips.
+Then he drew out the duplicate key he always carried, and, inserting it
+quietly, opened the door. A close, unpleasant smell greeted him as he
+entered the small passage that divided the bed and sitting rooms--a
+smell of whiskey mingling with the odor of stale smoke. With a quick
+gesture he pushed open the bedroom door; then on the threshold he
+paused, a look of contempt and repulsion passing over his face.
+
+In his first glance he scarcely grasped the details of the scene,
+for the half-drawn curtains kept the light dim, but as his eyes grew
+accustomed to the obscurity he gathered their significance.
+
+The room had a sleepless, jaded air--the room that under his own
+occupation had shown a rigid, almost monastic severity. The plain
+dressing-table was littered with cigarette ends and marked with black
+and tawny patches where the tobacco had been left to burn itself out. On
+one corner of the table a carafe of water and a whiskey-decanter rested
+one against the other, as if for support, and at the other end an
+overturned tumbler lay in a pool of liquid. The whole effect was sickly
+and nauseating. His glance turned involuntarily to the bed, and there
+halted.
+
+On the hard, narrow mattress, from which the sheets and blankets had
+fallen in a disordered heap, lay Chilcote. He was fully dressed in a
+shabby tweed suit of Loder's; his collar was open, his lip and chin
+unshaven; one hand was limply grasping the pillow, while the other hung
+out over the side of the bed. His face, pale, almost earthy in hue,
+might have been a mask, save for the slight convulsive spasms that
+crossed it from time to time, and corresponded with the faint, shivering
+starts that passed at intervals over his whole body. To complete his
+repellent appearance, a lock of hair had fallen loose and lay black and
+damp across his forehead.
+
+Loder stood for a space shocked and spellbound by the sight. Even in
+the ghastly disarray, the likeness--the extraordinary, sinister likeness
+that had become the pivot upon which he himself revolved--struck him
+like a blow. The man who lay there was himself-bound to him by some
+subtle, inexplicable tie of similarity. As the idea touched him he
+turned aside and stepped quickly to the dressing-table; there, with
+unnecessary energy, he flung back the curtains and threw the window
+wide; then again he turned towards the bed. He had one dominant
+impulse--to waken Chilcote, to be free of the repulsive, inert presence
+that chilled him with so personal a horror. Leaning over the bed, he
+caught the shoulder nearest to him and shook it. It was not the moment
+for niceties, and his gesture was rough.
+
+At his first touch Chilcote made no response--his brain, dulled by
+indulgence in his vice, had become a laggard in conveying sensations;
+but at last, as the pressure on his shoulder increased, his nervous
+system seemed suddenly to jar into consciousness. A long shudder shook
+him; he half lifted himself and then dropped back upon the pillow.
+
+"Oh!" he exclaimed, in a trembling breath. "Oh!" The sound seemed drawn
+from him by compulsion.
+
+Its uncanny tone chilled Loder anew. "Wake up, man!" he said, suddenly.
+"Wake up! It's I--Loder."
+
+Again the other shuddered; then he turned quickly and nervously.
+"Loder?" he said, doubtfully. "Loder?" Then his face changed. "Good
+God!" he exclaimed, "what a relief!"
+
+The words were so intense, so spontaneous and unexpected, that Loder
+took a step back.
+
+Chilcote laughed discordantly, and lifted a shaky hand to protect his
+eyes from the light.
+
+"It's--it's all right, Loder! It's all right! It's only that I--that
+I had a beastly dream. But, for Heaven's sake, shut that window!"
+He shivered involuntarily and pushed the lock of damp hair from his
+forehead with a weak touch of his old irritability.
+
+In silence Loder moved back to the window and shut it. He was affected
+more than he would own even to himself by the obvious change in
+Chilcote. He had seen him moody, restless, nervously excited; but never
+before had he seen him entirely demoralized. With a dull feeling of
+impotence and disgust he stood by the closed window, looking unseeingly
+at the roofs of the opposite houses.
+
+But Chilcote had followed his movements restlessly; and now, as he
+watched him, a flicker of excitement crossed his face. "God! Loder,"
+he said, again, "'twas a relief to see you! I dreamed I was in hell--a
+horrible hell, worse than the one they preach about."
+
+He laughed to reassure himself, but his voice shook pitiably.
+
+Loder, who had come to fight, stood silent and inert.
+
+"It was horrible--beastly," Chilcote went on. "There was no fire and
+brimstone, but there was something worse. It was a great ironic scheme
+of punishment by which every man was chained to his own vice--by which
+the thing he had gone to pieces over, instead of being denied him, was
+made compulsory. You can't imagine it." He shivered nervously and his
+voice rose. "Fancy being satiated beyond the limit of satiety, being
+driven and dogged by the thing you had run after all your life!"
+
+He paused excitedly, and in the pause Loder found resolution. He shut
+his ears to the panic in Chilcote's voice, he closed his consciousness
+to the sight of his shaken face. With a surge of determination he
+rallied his theories. After all, he had himself and his own interests
+to claim his thought. At the moment Chilcote was a wreck, with no desire
+towards rehabilitation; but there was no guarantee that in an hour or
+two he might not have regained control over himself, and with it the
+inclination that had prompted his letter of the day before. No; he had
+himself to look to. The survival of the fittest was the true, the only
+principle. Chilcote had had intellect, education, opportunity, and
+Chilcote had deliberately cast them aside. Fortifying himself in the
+knowledge, he turned from the window and moved slowly back to the bed.
+
+"Look here," he began, "you wrote for me last night--" His voice was
+hard; he had come to fight.
+
+Chilcote glanced up quickly. His mouth was drawn and there was anew
+anxiety in his eyes. "Loder!" he exclaimed, quickly. "Loder, come here!
+Come nearer!"
+
+Reluctantly Loder obeyed. Stepping closer to the side of the bed, he
+bent down.
+
+The other put up his hand and caught his arm. His fingers trembled and
+jerked. "I say, Loder," he said, suddenly, "I--I've had such a beastly
+night--my nerves, you know--"
+
+With a quick, involuntary disgust Loder drew back. "Don't you think we
+might shove that aside?" he asked.
+
+But Chilcote's gaze had wandered from his face and strayed to the
+dressing-table; there it moved feverishly from one object to another.
+
+"Loder," he exclaimed, "do you see--can you see if there's a tube of
+tabloids on the mantel-shelf--or on the dressing-table?" He lifted
+himself nervously on his elbow and his eyes wandered uneasily about the
+room. "I--I had a beastly night; my nerves are horribly jarred; and I
+thought--I think--" He stopped.
+
+With his increasing consciousness his nervous collapse became more
+marked. At the first moment of waking, the relief of an unexpected
+presence had surmounted everything else; but now, as one by one his
+faculties stirred, his wretched condition became patent. With a new
+sense of perturbation Loder made his next attack.
+
+"Chilcote--" he began, sternly.
+
+But again Chilcote caught his arm, plucking at the coat-sleeve. "Where
+is it?" he said. "Where is the tube of tabloids--the sedative? I'm--I'm
+obliged to take something when my nerves go wrong--" In his weakness and
+nervous tremor he forgot that Loder was the sharer of his secret. Even
+in his extremity his fear of detection clung to him limply--the lies
+that had become second nature slipped from him without effort. Then
+suddenly a fresh panic seized him; his fingers tightened spasmodically,
+his eyes ceased to rove about the room and settled on his companion's
+face. "Can you see it, Loder?" he cried. "I can't--the light's in my
+eyes. Can you see it? Can you see the tube?" He lifted himself higher,
+an agony of apprehension in his face.
+
+Loder pushed him back upon the pillow. He was striving hard to keep his
+own mind cool, to steer his own course straight through the chaos that
+confronted him. "Chilcote," he began once more, "you sent for me last
+night, and I came the first thing this morning to tell you--" But there
+he stopped.
+
+With an excitement that lent him strength, Chilcote pushed aside his
+hands. "God!" he said, suddenly, "suppose 'twas lost--suppose 'twas
+gone!" The imaginary possibility gripped him. He sat up, his face livid,
+drops of perspiration showing on his forehead, his whole shattered
+system trembling before his thought.
+
+At the sight, Loder set his lips. "The tube is on the mantel-shelf," he
+said, in a cold, abrupt voice.
+
+A groan of relief fell from Chilcote and the muscles of his face
+relaxed. For a moment he lay back with closed eyes; then the desire
+that tortured him stirred afresh. He lifted his eyelids and looked at
+his companion. "Hand it to me," he said, quickly. "Give it to me. Give
+it to me, Loder. Quick as you can! There's a glass on the table and
+some whiskey and water. The tabloids dissolve, you know--" In his new
+excitement he held out his hand.
+
+But Loder stayed motionless. He had come to fight, to demand, to
+plead--if need be--for the one hour for which he had lived; the hour
+that was to satisfy all labor, all endeavor, all ambition. With dogged
+persistence he made one more essay.
+
+"Chilcote, you wrote last night to recall me--" Once again he paused,
+checked by a new interruption. Sitting up again, Chilcote struck out
+suddenly with his left hand in a rush of his old irritability.
+
+"Damn you!" he cried, suddenly, "what are you talking about? Look at
+me! Get me the stuff. I tell you it's imperative." In his excitement his
+breath failed and he coughed. At the effort his whole frame was shaken.
+
+Loder walked to the dressing-table, then back to the bed. A deep
+agitation was at work in his mind.
+
+Again Chilcote's lips parted. "Loder," he said, faintly--"Loder, I
+must--I must have it. It's imperative." Once more he attempted to lift
+himself, but the effort was futile.
+
+Again Loder turned away.
+
+"Loder--for God's sake--"
+
+With a fierce gesture the other turned on him. "Good heavens! man--"
+he began. Then unaccountably his voice changed. The suggestion that had
+been hovering in his mind took sudden and definite shape. "All right!"
+he said, in a lower voice. "All right! Stay as you are."
+
+He crossed to where the empty tumbler stood and hastily mixed the
+whiskey and water; then crossing to the mantel-piece where lay the small
+glass tube containing the tightly packed tabloids, he paused and glanced
+once more towards the bed. "How many?" he said, laconically.
+
+Chilcote lifted his head. His face was pitiably drawn, but the feverish
+brightness in his eyes had increased. "Five," he said, sharply. "Five.
+Do you hear, Loder?"
+
+"Five?" Involuntarily Loder lowered the hand that held the tube.
+From previous confidences of Chilcote's he knew the amount of morphia
+contained in each tabloid, and realized that five tabloids, if not
+an absolutely dangerous, was at least an excessive dose, even for one
+accustomed to the drug. For a moment his resolution failed; then the
+dominant-note of his nature--the unconscious, fundamental egotism on
+which his character was based--asserted itself beyond denial. It might
+be reprehensible, it might even be criminal to accede to such a request,
+made by a man in such a condition of body and mind; yet the laws of the
+universe demanded self-assertion--prompted every human mind to desire,
+to grasp, and to hold. With a perception swifter than any he had
+experienced, he realized the certain respite to be gained by yielding to
+his impulse. He looked at Chilcote with his haggard, anxious expression,
+his eager, restless eyes; and a vision of himself followed sharp upon
+his glance. A vision of the untiring labor of the past ten days, of the
+slowly kindling ambition, of the supremacy all but gained. Then, as the
+picture completed itself, he lifted his hand with an abrupt movement and
+dropped the five tabloids one after another into the glass.
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+
+Having taken a definite step in any direction, it was not in
+Loder's nature to wish it retraced. His face was set, but set with
+determination, when he closed the outer door of his own rooms and passed
+quietly down the stairs and out into the silent court. The thought of
+Chilcote, his pitiable condition, his sordid environments, were
+things that required a firm will to drive into the background of the
+imagination; but a whole inferno of such visions would not have daunted
+Loder on that morning as, unobserved by any eyes, he left the little
+court-yard with its grass, its trees, its pavement--all so distastefully
+familiar--and passed down the Strand towards life and action.
+
+As he walked, his steps increased in speed and vigor. Now, for the first
+time, he fully appreciated the great mental strain that he had undergone
+in the past ten days--the unnatural tension; the suppressed, but
+perpetual, sense of impending recall; the consequently high pressure at
+which work, and even existence, had been carried on. And as he hurried
+forward the natural reaction to this state of things came upon him in a
+flood of security and confidence--a strong realization of the temporary
+respite and freedom for which no price would have seemed too high. The
+moment for which he had unconsciously lived ever since Chilcote's first
+memorable proposition was within reach at last--safeguarded by his own
+action.
+
+The walk from Clifford's Inn to Grosvenor Square was long enough to
+dispel any excitement that his interview had aroused; and long before
+the well-known house came into view he felt sufficiently braced mentally
+and physically to seek Eve in the morning-room--where he instinctively
+felt she would still be waiting for him.
+
+Thus he encountered and overpassed the obstacle that had so nearly
+threatened ruin; and, with the singleness of purpose that always
+distinguished him, he was able, once having passed it, to dismiss it
+altogether from his mind. From the moment of his return to Chilcote's
+house no misgiving as to his own action, no shadow of doubt, rose to
+trouble his mind. His feelings on the matter were quite simple. He had
+inordinately desired a certain opportunity; one factor had arisen to
+debar that opportunity, and he, claiming the right of strength, had set
+the barrier aside. In the simplicity of the reasoning lay its power
+to convince; and were a tonic needed to brace him for his task, he was
+provided with one in the masterful sense of a difficulty set at nought.
+For the man who has fought and conquered one obstacle feels strong to
+vanquish a score.
+
+It was on this day, at the reassembling of Parliament, that Fraide's
+great blow was to be struck. In the ten days since the affair of the
+caravans had been reported from Persia public feeling had run high, and
+it was upon the pivot of this incident that Loder's attack was to turn;
+for, as Lakely was fond of remarking, "In the scales of public opinion,
+one dead Englishman has more weight than the whole Eastern Question!" It
+had been arranged that, following the customary procedure, Loder was to
+rise after questions at the morning sitting and ask leave to move
+the adjournment of the House on a definite matter of urgent public
+importance; upon which--leave having been granted by the rising of forty
+members in his support--the way was to lie open for his definite attack
+at the evening sitting. And it was with a mind attuned to this plan of
+action that he retired to the study immediately he had breakfasted,
+and settled to a final revision of his speech before an early party
+conference should compel him to leave the house. But here again
+circumstances were destined to change his programme. Scarcely had he
+sorted his notes and drawn his chair to Chilcote's desk than Renwick
+entered the room with the same air of important haste that he had shown
+on a previous occasion.
+
+"A letter from Mr. Fraide, sir. But there's no answer," he said, with
+unusual brevity.
+
+Loder waited till he had left the room, then he tore the letter open. He
+read:
+
+
+"MY DEAR CHILCOTE,--Lakely is the recipient of special and very vital
+news from Meshed--unofficial, but none the less alarming. Acts of
+Russian aggression towards British traders are reported to be rapidly
+increasing, and it is stated that the authority of the Consulate is
+treated with contempt. Pending a possible confirmation of this, I would
+suggest that you keep an open mind on the subject of to-night's speech.
+By adopting an anticipatory--even an unprepared--attitude you may find
+your hand materially strengthened. I shall put my opinions before you
+more explicitly when we meet.
+
+                         "Yours faithfully,
+                                 HERBERT FRAIDE."
+
+
+The letter, worded with Fraide's usual restraint, made a strong
+impression on its recipient. The thought that his speech might not only
+express opinions already tacitly held, but voice a situation of intense
+and national importance, struck him with full force. For many minutes
+after he had grasped the meaning of Fraide's message he sat neglectful
+of his notes, his elbows resting on the desk, his face between
+his hands, stirred by the suggestion that here might lie a greater
+opportunity than any he had anticipated.
+
+Still moved by this new suggestion, he attended the party conclave that
+Fraide had convened, and afterwards lunched with and accompanied
+his leader to the House. They spoke very little as they drove to
+Westminster, for each was engrossed by his own thoughts. Only once did
+Fraide allude to the incident that was paramount in both their minds.
+Then, turning to Loder with a smile of encouragement, he had laid his
+fingers for an instant on his arm.
+
+"Chilcote," he had said, "when the time comes, remember you have all my
+confidence."
+
+Looking back upon that day, Loder often wondered at the calmness with
+which he bore the uncertainty. To sit apparently unmoved, and wait
+without emotion for news that might change the whole tenor of one's
+action, would have tried the stoicism of the most experienced; to the
+novice it was wellnigh unendurable. And it was under these conditions,
+and fighting against these odds, that he sat through the long afternoon
+in Chilcote's place, obeying the dictates of his chief. But if the day
+was fraught with difficulties for him, it was fraught with dulness and
+disappointment for others; for the undercurrent of interest that had
+stirred at the Easter adjournment, and risen with added force on this
+first day of the new session, was gradually but surely threatened with
+extinction, as hour after hour passed, bringing no suggestion of
+the battle that had on every side been tacitly expected. Slowly and
+unmistakably speculation and dissatisfaction crept into the atmosphere
+of the House, as moment succeeded moment, and the Opposition made no
+sign. Was Fraide shirking the attack? Or was he playing a waiting game?
+Again and again the question arose, filling the air with a passing
+flicker of interest; but each time it sprang up only to die down again,
+as the ordinary business of the day dragged itself out.
+
+Gradually, as the afternoon wore on, daylight began to fade. Loder,
+sitting rigidly in Chilcote's place, watched with suppressed inquiry the
+faces of the men who entered through the constantly swinging doors;
+but not one face, so eagerly scanned, carried the message for which he
+waited. Monotonously and mechanically the time passed. The Government,
+adopting a neutral attitude, carefully skirted all dangerous subjects;
+while the Opposition, acting under Fraide's suggestion, assisted rather
+than hindered the programme of postponement. For the moment the eagerly
+anticipated reassembling threatened dismal failure; and it was with a
+universal movement of weariness and relief that at last the House rose
+to dine.
+
+But there are no possibilities so elastic as those of politics.
+At half-past seven the House rose in a spirit of boredom and
+disappointment; and at eight o'clock the lobbies, the dining-room, the
+entire space of the vast building, was stirred into activity by the
+arrival of a single telegraphic message.
+
+The new development for which Fraide had waited came indeed, but it
+came with a force he had little anticipated. With a thrill of awe and
+consternation men heard and repeated the astounding news that--while
+personally exercising his authority on behalf of British traders--Sir
+William Brice-Field, Consul-General at Meshed, had been fired at by a
+Russian officer and instantly killed.
+
+The interval immediately following the receipt of this news was too
+confused for detailed remembrance. Two ideas made themselves slowly
+felt--a deep horror that such an event could obtrude itself upon
+our high civilization, and a strong personal dismay that so honored,
+distinguished, and esteemed a representative as Sir William Brice-Field
+could have been allowed to meet death in so terrible a manner.
+
+It was in the consciousness of this feeling--the consciousness that, in
+his own person, he might voice, not only the feelings of his party, but
+those of the whole country--that Loder rose an hour later to make his
+long-delayed attack.
+
+He stood silent for a moment, as he had done on an earlier occasion;
+but this time his motive was different. Roused beyond any feeling of
+self-consciousness, he waited as by right for the full attention of
+the House; then quietly, but with self-possessed firmness, he moved the
+motion for adjournment.
+
+Like a match to a train of powder, the words set flame to the excitement
+that had smouldered for weeks; and in an atmosphere of stirring
+activity, a scene of such tense and vital concentration as the House has
+rarely witnessed, he found inspiration for his great achievement.
+
+To give Loder's speech in mere words would be little short of futile.
+The gift of oratory is too illusive, too much a matter of eye and voice
+and individuality, to allow of cold reproduction. To those who heard him
+speak on that night of April 18th the speech will require no recalling;
+and to those who did not hear him there would be no substitute in bare
+reproduction.
+
+In the moment of action it mattered nothing to him that his previous
+preparations were to a great extent rendered useless by this news that
+had come with such paralyzing effect. In the sweeping consciousness
+of his own ability, he found added joy in the freedom it opened up.
+He ceased to consider that by fate he was a Conservative, bound by
+traditional conventionalities: in that great moment he knew himself
+sufficiently a man to exercise whatever individuality instinct prompted.
+He forgot the didactic methods by which he had proposed to show
+knowledge of his subject--both as a past and a future factor in European
+politics. With his own strong appreciation of present things, he saw and
+grasped the vast present interest lying beneath his hand.
+
+For fifty minutes he held the interest of the House, speaking
+insistently, fearlessly, commandingly on the immediate need of action.
+He unhesitatingly pointed out that the news which had just reached
+England was not so much an appalling fact as a sinister warning to those
+in whose keeping lay the safety of the country's interests. Lastly, with
+a fine touch of eloquence, he paid tribute to the steadfast fidelity
+of such men as Sir William Brice-Field, who, whatever political
+complications arise at home, pursue their duty unswervingly on the
+outposts of the empire.
+
+At his last words there was silence--the silence that marks a genuine
+effect--then all at once, with vehement, impressive force, the storm of
+enthusiasm broke its bounds.
+
+It was one of those stupendous bursts of feeling that no etiquette, no
+decorum is powerful enough to quell. As he resumed his seat, very pale,
+but exalted as men are exalted only once or twice in a lifetime, it rose
+about him--clamorous, spontaneous, undeniable. Near at hand were the
+faces of his party, excited and triumphant; across the house were the
+faces of Sefborough and his Ministry, uncomfortable and disturbed.
+
+The tumult swelled, then fell away; and in the partial lull that
+followed Fraide leaned over the back of his seat. His quiet, dignified
+expression was unaltered, but his eyes were intensely bright.
+
+"Chilcote," he whispered, "I don't congratulate you--or myself. I
+congratulate the country on possessing a great man!"
+
+The remaining features of the debate followed quickly one upon the
+other; the electric atmosphere of the House possessed a strong incentive
+power. Immediately Loder's ovation had subsided, the Under-Secretary
+for Foreign Affairs rose and in a careful and non-incriminating reply
+defended the attitude of the Government.
+
+Next came Fraide, who, in one of his rare and polished speeches, touched
+with much feeling upon his personal grief at the news reported from
+Persia, and made emphatic indorsement of Loder's words.
+
+Following Fraide came one or two dissentient Liberals, and then
+Sefborough himself closed the debate. His speech was masterly and
+fluent; but though any disquietude he may have felt was well disguised
+under a tone of reassuring ease, the attempt to rehabilitate his
+position--already weakened in more than one direction--was a task beyond
+his strength.
+
+Amid extraordinary excitement the division followed--and with it a
+Government defeat.
+
+It was not until half an hour after the votes had, been taken that
+Loder, freed at last from persistent congratulations, found opportunity
+to look for Eve. In accordance with a promise made that morning, he
+was to find her waiting outside the Ladies' Gallery at the close of the
+debate.
+
+Disengaging himself from the group of men who had surrounded and
+followed him down the lobby, he discarded the lift and ran up the narrow
+staircase. Reaching the landing, he went forward hurriedly; then with a
+certain abrupt movement he paused. In the doorway leading to the gallery
+Eve was waiting for him. The place was not brightly lighted, and she
+was standing in the shadow; but it needed only a glance to assure his
+recognition. He could almost have seen in the dark that night, so vivid
+were his perceptions. He took a step towards her, then again he stopped.
+In a second glance he realized that her eyes were bright with tears;
+and it was with the strangest sensation he had ever experienced that the
+knowledge flashed upon him. Here, also, he had struck the same note--the
+long-coveted note of supremacy. It had rung out full and clear as he
+stood in Chilcote's place dominating the House; it had besieged him
+clamorously as he passed along the lobbies amid a sea of friendly hands
+and voices; now in the quiet of the deserted gallery it came home to him
+with deeper meaning from the eyes of Chilcote's wife.
+
+Without a thought he put out his hands and caught hers.
+
+"I couldn't get away," he said. "I'm afraid I'm very late."
+
+With a smile that scattered her tears Eve looked up. "Are you?" she
+said, laughing a little. "I don't know what the time is. I scarcely know
+whether it's night or day."
+
+Still holding one of her hands, he drew her down the stairs; but as they
+reached the last step she released her fingers.
+
+"In the carriage!" she said, with another little laugh of nervous
+happiness.
+
+At the foot of the stairs they were surrounded. Men whose faces Loder
+barely knew crowded about him. The intoxication of excitement was still
+in the air--the instinct that a new force had made itself felt, a new
+epoch been entered upon, stirred prophetically in every mind.
+
+Passing through the enthusiastic concourse of men, they came
+unexpectedly upon Fraide and Lady Sarah surrounded by a group of
+friends. The old statesman came forward instantly, and, taking Loder's
+arm, walked with him to Chilcote's waiting brougham. He said little
+as they slowly made their way to the carriage, but the pressure of his
+fingers was tense and an unwonted color showed in his face. When Eve
+and Loder had taken their seats he stepped to the edge of the curb. They
+were alone for the moment, and, leaning close to the carriage, he put
+his hand through the open window. In silence he took Eve's fingers and
+held them in a long, affectionate pressure; then he released them and
+took Loder's hand.
+
+"Good-night, Chilcote," he said. "You have proved yourself worthy of
+her. Good-night." He turned quickly and rejoined his waiting friends.
+In another second the horses had wheeled round, and Eve and Loder were
+carried swiftly forward into the darkness.
+
+In the great moments of man's life woman comes before--and after. Some
+shadow of this truth was in, Eve's mind as she lay back in her seat with
+closed eyes, and parted lips. It seemed that life came to her now for
+the first time--came in the glad, proud, satisfying tide of things
+accomplished. This was her hour: and the recognition of it brought the
+blood to her face in a sudden, happy rush. There had been no need to
+precipitate its coming; it had been ordained from the first. Whether she
+desired it or no, whether she strove to draw it nearer or strove to ward
+it off, its coming had been inevitable. She opened her eyes suddenly and
+looked out into the darkness--the darkness throbbing with multitudes of
+lives, all awaiting, all desiring fulfilment. She was no longer lonely,
+no longer aloof; she was kin with all this pitiful, admirable, sinning,
+loving humanity. Again tears of pride and happiness filled her eyes.
+Then suddenly the thing she had waited for came to pass.
+
+Loder leaned close to her. She was conscious of his nearer presence, of
+his strong, masterful personality. With a thrill that caught her breath,
+she felt his arm. about her shoulder and heard the sound of his voice.
+
+"Eve," he said,--"I love you. Do you understand I love you." And drawing
+her close to him he bent and kissed her.
+
+With Loder, to do was to do fully. When he gave, he gave generously;
+when he swept aside a barrier he left no stone standing. He had
+been slow to recognize his capacities--slower still to recognize his
+feelings. But now that the knowledge came he received it openly. In this
+matter of newly comprehended love he gave no thought to either past or
+future. That they loved and were alone was all he knew or questioned.
+She was as much Eve--the one woman--as though they were together in the
+primeval garden; and in that spirit he claimed her.
+
+He neither spoke nor behaved extravagantly in that great moment of
+comprehension. He acted quietly, with the completeness of purpose that
+he gave to everything. He had found a new capacity within himself, and
+he was strong enough to dread no weakness in displaying it.
+
+Holding her close to him, he repeated his declaration again and again,
+as though repetition ratified it. He found no need to question her
+feeling for him--he had divined it in a flash of inspiration as she
+stood waiting in the doorway of the gallery; but his own surrender was a
+different matter.
+
+As the carriage passed round the corner of Whitehall and dipped into the
+traffic of Piccadilly he bent down again until her soft hair brushed his
+face; and the warm personal contact, the slight, fresh smell of violets
+so suggestive of her presence, stirred' him afresh.
+
+"Eve," he said, vehemently, "do you understand? Do you know that I have
+loved you always--from the very first?" As he said it he bent still
+nearer, kissing her lips, her forehead, her hair.
+
+At the same moment the horses slackened speed and then stopped, arrested
+by one of the temporary blocks that so often occur in the traffic of
+Piccadilly Circus.
+
+Loder, preoccupied with his own feelings, scarcely noticed the halt, but
+Eve drew away from him laughing.
+
+"You mustn't!" she said, softly. "Look!"
+
+The carriage had stopped beside one of the small islands that intersect
+the place; a group of pedestrians were crowded upon it, under the light
+of the electric lamp--wayfarers who, like themselves, were awaiting a
+passage. Loder took a cursory glance at them, then turned back to Eve.
+
+"What are they, after all, but men and women?" he said. "They'd
+understand--every one of them." He laughed in his turn; nevertheless he
+withdrew his arm. Her feminine thought for conventionalities appealed to
+him. It was an acknowledgment of dependency.
+
+For a while they sat silent, the light of the street lamp flickering
+through the glass of the window, the hum of voices and traffic coming to
+them in a continuous rise and fall of sound. At first the position
+was interesting; but, as the seconds followed each other, it gradually
+became irksome. Loder, watching the varying expressions of Eve's face,
+grew impatient of the delay, grew suddenly eager to be alone again in
+the fragrant darkness.
+
+Impelled by the desire, he leaned forward and opened the window.
+
+"Let's find the meaning of this," he said. "Is there nobody to regulate
+the traffic?" As he spoke he half rose and leaned out of the window.
+There was a touch of imperious annoyance in his manner. Fresh from the
+realization of power, there was something irksome in this commonplace
+check to his desires.
+
+"Isn't it possible to get out of this?" Eve heard him call to the
+coachman. Then she heard no more.
+
+He had leaned out of the carriage with the intention of looking onward
+towards the cause of the delay; instead, by that magnetic attraction
+that undoubtedly exists, he looked directly in front of him at the group
+of people waiting on the little island--at one man who leaned against
+the lamp-post in an attitude of apathy--a man with a pallid, unshaven
+face and lustreless eyes, who wore a cap drawn low over his forehead.
+
+He looked at this man, and the man saw and returned his glance. For a
+space that seemed interminable they held each other's eyes; then very
+slowly Loder drew back into the carriage.
+
+As he dropped into his seat, Eve glanced at him anxiously.
+
+"John," she said, "has anything happened? You look ill."
+
+He turned to her and tried to smile.
+
+"It's nothing," he said. "Nothing to worry about." He spoke quickly, but
+his voice had suddenly become flat. All the command, all the domination
+had dropped away from it.
+
+Eve bent close to him, her face lighting up with anxious tenderness. "It
+was the excitement," she said, "the strain of tonight."
+
+He looked at her; but he made no attempt to press the fingers that
+clasped his own.
+
+"Yes," he said, slowly. "Yes. It was the excitement of to-night--and the
+reaction."
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+
+The next morning at eight o'clock, and again without breakfast, Loder
+covered the distance between Grosvenor Square and Clifford's Inn. He
+left Chilcote's house hastily--with a haste that only an urgent motive
+could have driven him to adopt. His steps were quick and uneven as he
+traversed the intervening streets; his shoulders lacked their
+decisive pose, and his pale face was marked with shadows beneath the
+eyes--shadows that bore witness to the sleepless night spent in pacing
+Chilcote's vast and lonely room. By the curious effect of circumstances
+the likeness between the two men had never been more significantly
+marked than on that morning of April 19th, when Loder walked along
+the pavements crowded with early workers and brisk with insistent
+news-venders already alive to the value of last night's political
+crisis.
+
+The irony of this last element in the day's concerns came to him fully
+when one newsboy, more energetic than his fellows, thrust a paper in
+front of him.
+
+"Sensation in the 'Ouse, sir! Speech by Mr. Chilcote! Government
+defeat!"
+
+For a moment Loder stopped and his face reddened. The tide of emotions
+still ran strong. His hand went instinctively to his pocket; then his
+lips set. He shook his head and walked on.
+
+With the same hard expression about his mouth, he turned into Clifford's
+Inn, passed through his own doorway, and mounted the stairs.
+
+This time there was no milk-can on the threshold of his rooms and the
+door yielded to his pressure without the need of a key. With a strange
+sensation of reluctance he walked into the narrow passage and paused,
+uncertain which room to enter first. As he stood hesitating a voice from
+the sitting-room settled the question.
+
+"Who's there?" it called, irritably. "What do you want?"
+
+Without further ceremony the intruder pushed the door open and entered
+the room. As he did so he drew a quick breath--whether of disappointment
+or relief it was impossible to say. Whether he had hoped for or dreaded
+it, Chilcote was conscious.
+
+As Loder entered he was sitting by the cheerless grate, the ashes of
+yesterday's fire showing charred and dreary where the sun touched them.
+His back was to the light, and about his shoulders was an old plaid
+rug. Behind him on the table stood a cup, a teapot, and the can of milk;
+farther off a kettle was set to boil upon a tiny spirit-stove.
+
+In all strong situations we are more or less commonplace. Loder's
+first remark as he glanced round the disordered room seemed strangely
+inefficient.
+
+"Where's Robins?" he asked, in a brusque voice. His mind teemed with big
+considerations, yet this was his first involuntary question.
+
+Chilcote had started at the entrance of his visitor; now he sat staring
+at him, his hands holding the arms of his chair.
+
+"Where's Robins?" Loder asked again.
+
+"I don't know. She--I--We didn't hit it off. She's gone--went
+yesterday." He shivered and drew the rug about him.
+
+"Chilcote--" Loder began, sternly; then he paused. There was something
+in the other's look and attitude that arrested him. A change of
+expression passed over his own face; he turned about with an abrupt
+gesture, pulled off his coat and threw it on a chair; then crossing
+deliberately to the fireplace, he began to rake the ashes from the
+grate.
+
+Within a few minutes he had a fire crackling where the bed of dead
+cinders had been, and, having finished the task, he rose slowly from
+his knees, wiped his hands, and crossed to the table. On the small
+spirit-stove the kettle had boiled and the cover was lifting and falling
+with a tinkling sound. Blowing out the flame, Loder picked up the
+teapot, and with hands that were evidently accustomed to the task set
+about making the tea.
+
+During the whole operation he never spoke, though all the while he was
+fully conscious of Chilcote's puzzled gaze. The tea ready, he poured it
+into the cup and carried it across the room.
+
+"Drink this!" he said, laconically. "The fire will be up presently."
+
+Chilcote extended a cold and shaky hand. "You see--" he began.
+
+But Loder checked him almost savagely. "I do--as well as though I had
+followed you from Piccadilly last night! You've been hanging about,
+God knows where, till the small hours of the morning; then you've come
+back--slunk back, starving for your damned poison and shivering with
+cold. You've settled the first part of the business, but the cold has
+still to be reckoned with. Drink the tea. I've something to say to you."
+He mastered his vehemence, and, walking to the window, stood looking
+down into the court. His eyes were blank, his face hard; his ears heard
+nothing but the faint sound of Chilcote's swallowing, the click of the
+cup against his teeth.
+
+For a time that seemed interminable he stood motionless; then, when he
+judged the tea finished, he turned slowly. Chilcote had drawn closer
+to the fire. He was obviously braced by the warmth; and the apathy that
+hung about him was to some extent dispelled. Still moving slowly, Loder
+went towards him, and, relieving him of the empty cup, stood looking
+down at him.
+
+"Chilcote," he said, very quietly, "I've come to fell you that the thing
+must end."
+
+After he spoke there was a prolonged pause; then, as if shaken with
+sudden consciousness, Chilcote rose. The rug dropped from one shoulder
+and hung down ludicrously; his hand caught the back of the chair for
+support; his unshaven face looked absurd and repulsive in its sudden
+expression of scared inquiry. Loder involuntarily turned away.
+
+"I mean it," he said, slowly. "It's over; we've come to the end."
+
+"But why?" Chilcote articulated, blankly. "Why? Why?" In his confusion
+he could think of no better word.
+
+"Because I throw it up. My side of the bargain's off!"
+
+Again Chilcote's lips parted stammeringly. The apathy caused by physical
+exhaustion and his recently administered drug was passing from him; the
+hopelessly shattered condition of mind and body was showing through it
+like a skeleton through a thin covering of flesh.
+
+"But why?" he said again. "Why?"
+
+Still Loder avoided the frightened surprise of his, eyes. "Because I
+withdraw," he answered, doggedly.
+
+Then suddenly Chilcote's tongue was loosened. "Loder," he cried,
+excitedly, "you can't do it! God! man, you can't do it!" To reassure
+himself he laughed--a painfully thin echo of his old, sarcastic laugh.
+"If it's a matter of greater opportunity--" he began, "of more money--"
+
+But Loder turned upon him.
+
+"Be quiet!" he said, so menacingly that the other stopped. Then by an
+effort he conquered himself, "It's not a matter of money, Chilcote,"
+he said, quietly; "it's a matter of necessity." He brought the word out
+with difficulty.
+
+Chilcote glanced up. "Necessity?" he repeated. "How? Why?"
+
+The reiteration roused Loder. "Because there was a great scene in the
+House last night," he began, hurriedly; "because when you go back
+you'll find that Sefborough has smashed up over the assassination of Sir
+William Brice-Field at Meshed, and that you have made your mark in a
+big speech; and because--" Abruptly he stopped. The thing he had come to
+say--the thing he had meant to say--would not be said. Either his tongue
+or his resolution failed him, and for the instant he stood as silent
+and almost as ill at ease as his companion. Then all at once inspiration
+came to him, in the suggestion of a wellnigh forgotten argument by which
+he might influence Chilcote and save his own self-respect. "It's all
+over, Chilcote," he said, more quietly; "it has run itself out." And
+in a dozen sentences he sketched the story of Lillian Astrupp--her past
+relations with himself, her present suspicions. It was not what he had
+meant to say; it was not what he had come to say; but it served the
+purpose--it saved him humiliation.
+
+Chilcote listened to the last word; then, as the other finished, he
+dropped nervously back into his chair. "Good heavens! man," he said,
+"why didn't you tell me--why didn't you warn me, instead of filling my
+mind with your political position? Your political position!" He laughed
+unsteadily. The long spells of indulgence that had weakened his already
+maimed faculties showed in the laugh, in the sudden breaking of his
+voice. "You must do something, Loder!" he added, nervously, checking his
+amusement; "you must do something!"
+
+Loder looked down at him. "No," he said, decisively. "It's your turn
+now. It's you who've got to do something."
+
+Chilcote's face turned a shade grayer. "I can't," he said, below his
+breath.
+
+"Can't? Oh yes, you can. We can all do--anything. It's not too late;
+there's just sufficient time. Chilcote," he added, suddenly, "don't you
+see that the thing has been madness all along--has been like playing
+with the most infernal explosives? You may thank whatever you have
+faith in that nobody has been smashed up! You are going back. Do you
+understand me? You are going back--now, to-day, before it's too late."
+There was a great change in Loder; his strong, imperturbable face was
+stirred; he was moved in both voice and manner. Time after time he
+repeated his injunction--reasoning, expostulating, insisting. It almost
+seemed that he fought some strenuous invisible force rather than the
+shattered man before him.
+
+Chilcote moved nervously in his seat. It was the first real clash of
+personalities. He felt it--recognized it by instinct. The sense of
+domination had fallen on him; he knew himself impotent in the other's
+hands. Whatever he might attempt in moments of solitude, he possessed
+no voice in presence of this invincible second self. For a while he
+struggled--he did not fight, he struggled to resist--then, lifting his
+eyes, he met Loder's. "And what will you do?" he said, weakly.
+
+Loder returned his questioning gaze; but almost immediately he turned
+aside. "I?" he said. "Oh, I shall leave London."
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+
+But Loder did not leave London. And the hour of two on the day following
+his dismissal of Chilcote found him again in his sitting-room.
+
+He sat at the centre-table surrounded by a cloud of smoke; a pipe was
+between his lips and the morning's newspapers lay in a heap beside
+his elbow. To the student of humanity his attitude was intensely
+interesting. It was the attitude of a man trammelled by the knowledge
+of his strength. Before him, as he sat smoking, stretched a future of
+absolute nothingness; and towards this blank future one portion of his
+consciousness--a struggling and as yet scarcely sentient portion--pushed
+him inevitably; while another--a vigorous, persistent, human
+portion--cried to him to pause. So actual, so clamorous was this
+silent mental combat that had raged unceasingly since the moment of his
+renunciation that at last in physical response to it he pushed back his
+chair.
+
+"It's too late!" he said, aloud. "I'm a fool. It's too late!"
+
+Then abruptly, astonishingly, as though in direct response to his spoken
+thought, the door opened and Chilcote walked into the room.
+
+Slowly Loder rose and stared at him. The feeling he acknowledged to
+himself was anger; but below the anger a very different sensation ran
+riotously strong.
+
+And it was in time to this second feeling, this sudden, lawless joy,
+that his pulses beat as he turned a cold face on the intruder.
+
+"Well?" he said, sternly.
+
+But Chilcote was impervious to sternness. He was mentally shaken and
+distressed, though outwardly irreproachable, even to the violets in the
+lapel of his coat--the violets that for a week past had been brought
+each morning to the door of Loder's rooms by Eve's maid. For one second,
+as Loder's eyes' rested on the flowers, a sting of ungovernable jealousy
+shot through him; then as suddenly it died away, superseded by another
+feeling--a feeling of new, spontaneous joy. Worn by Chilcote or by
+himself, the flowers were a symbol!
+
+"Well?" he said again, in a gentler voice.
+
+Chilcote had walked to the table and laid down his hat. His face was
+white and the muscles of his lips twitched nervously as he drew off his
+gloves.
+
+"Thank Heaven, you're here!" he said, shortly. "Give me something to
+drink."
+
+In silence Loder brought out the whiskey and set it on the table; then
+instinctively he turned aside. As plainly as though he saw the action,
+he mentally figured Chilcote's furtive glance, the furtive movement of
+his fingers to his waistcoat-pocket, the hasty dropping of the tabloids
+into the glass. For an instant the sense of his tacit connivance came to
+him sharply; the next, he flung it from him. The human, inner voice was
+whispering its old watchword. The strong man has no time to waste over
+his weaker brother!
+
+When he heard Chilcote lay down his tumbler he looked back again. "Well,
+what is it?" he said. "What have you come for?" He strove resolutely to
+keep his voice severe, but, try as he might, he could not quite subdue
+the eager force that lay behind his words. Once again, as on the night
+of their second interchange, life had become a phoenix, rising to fresh
+existence even while he sifted its ashes. "Well?" he said, once again.
+
+Chilcote had set down his glass. He was nervously passing his
+handkerchief across his lips. There was something in the gesture that
+attracted Loder. Looking at him more attentively, he saw what his own
+feelings and the other's conventional dress had blinded him to--the
+almost piteous panic and excitement in his visitor's eyes.
+
+"Something's gone wrong!" he said, with abrupt intuition.
+
+Chilcote started. "Yes--no--that is, yes," he stammered.
+
+Loder moved round the table. "Something's gone wrong," he repeated. "And
+you've come to tell me."
+
+The tone unnerved Chilcote; he suddenly dropped into a chair. "It--it
+wasn't my fault," he began. "I--I have had a horrible time!"
+
+Loder's lips tightened. "Yes," he said, "yes--I understand."
+
+The other glanced up with a gleam of his old suspicion "'Twas all my
+nerves, Loder--"
+
+"Of course. Yes, of course." Loder's interruption was curt.
+
+Chilcote eyed him doubtfully. Then recollection took the place of doubt,
+and a change passed over his expression. "It wasn't my fault," he began,
+hastily. "On my soul, it wasn't! It was Crapham's beastly fault for
+showing her into the morning-room--"
+
+Loder kept silent. His curiosity had flared into sudden life at the
+other's words, but he feared to break the shattered train of thought
+even by a word.
+
+In the silence Chilcote moved uneasily. "You see," he went on, at last,
+"when I was here with you I--I felt strong. I--I--" He stopped.
+
+"Yes, yes. When you were here with me you felt strong."
+
+"Yes, that's it. While I was here, I felt I could do the thing. But when
+I went home--when I went up to my rooms--" Again he paused, passing his
+handkerchief across his forehead.
+
+"When you went up to your rooms?" Loder strove hard to keep his control.
+
+"To my room--? Oh, I--I forget about that. I forget about the night" He
+hesitated confusedly. "All I remember is the coming down to breakfast
+next morning--this morning--at twelve o'clock--"
+
+Loder turned to the table and poured himself out some whiskey. "Yes," he
+acquiesced, in a very quiet voice.
+
+At the word Chilcote rose from his seat. His disquietude was
+very evident. "Oh, there was breakfast on the table when I came
+down-stairs--breakfast with flowers and a horrible, dazzling glare of
+sun. It was then, Loder, as I stood and looked into the room, that
+the impossibility of it all came to me--that I knew I couldn't stand
+it--couldn't go on."
+
+Loder swallowed his whiskey slowly. His sense of overpowering curiosity
+held him very still; but he made no effort to prompt his companion.
+
+Again Chilcote shifted his position agitatedly. "It, had to be done," he
+said, disjointedly. "I had to do it--then and there. The things were on
+the bureau--the pens and ink and telegraph forms. They tempted me."
+
+Loder laid down his glass suddenly. An exclamation rose to his lips, but
+he checked it.
+
+At the slight sound of the tumbler touching the table Chilcote turned;
+but there was no expression on the other's face to affright him.
+
+"They tempted me," he repeated, hastily. "They seemed like magnets--they
+seemed to draw me towards them. I sat at the bureau staring at them for
+a long time; then a terrible compulsion seized me--something you could
+never understand--and I caught up the nearest pen and wrote just what
+was in my mind. It wasn't a telegram, properly speaking--it was more a
+letter. I wanted you back and I had to make myself plain. The writing of
+the message seemed to steady me; the mere forming of the words quieted
+my mind. I was almost cool when I got up from the bureau and pressed the
+bell--"
+
+"The bell?"
+
+"Yes. I rang for a servant. I had to send the wire myself, so I had to
+get a cab." His voice rose to irritability. "I pressed the bell several
+times; but the thing had gone wrong--'twouldn't work. At last I gave it
+up and went into the corridor to call some one."
+
+"Well?" In the intense suspense of the moment the word escaped Loder.
+
+"Oh, I went out of the room; but there at the door, before I could call
+anybody, I knocked up against that idiot Greening. He was looking for
+me--for you, rather--about some beastly Wark affair. I tried to explain
+that I wasn't in a state for business; I tried to shake him off, but
+he was worse than Blessington. At last, to be rid of the fellow, I went
+with him to the study--"
+
+"But the telegram?" Loder began; then again he checked himself.
+"Yes--yes--I understand," he added, quietly.
+
+"I'm getting to the telegram! I wish you wouldn't jar me with sudden
+questions. I wasn't in the study more than a minute--more than five or
+six minutes--" His voice became confused; the strain of the connected
+recital was telling upon him. With nervous haste he made a rush for
+the end of his story. "I wasn't more than seven or eight minutes in the
+study; then, as I came down-stairs, Crapham met me in the hall. He told
+me that Lillian Astrupp had called and wished to see me. And that he had
+shown her into the morning-room--"
+
+"The morning-room?" Loder suddenly stepped back from the table. "The
+morning-room? With your telegram lying on the bureau?"
+
+His sudden speech and movement startled Chilcote. The blood rushed to
+his face, then died out, leaving it ashen. "Don't do that, Loder!" he
+cried. "I--I can't bear it!"
+
+With an immense effort Loder controlled himself. "Sorry!" he said. "Go
+on!"
+
+"I'm going on! I tell you I'm going on. I got a horrid shock when
+Chapham told me. Your story came clattering through my mind. I knew
+Lillian had come to see you--I knew there was going to be a scene--"
+
+"But the telegram? The telegram?"
+
+Chilcote paid no heed to the interruption. He was following his own
+train of ideas. "I knew she had come to see you--I knew there was going
+to be a scene. When I got to the morning-room my hand was shaking so
+that I could scarcely turn the handle; then, as the door opened, I could
+have cried out with relief. Eve was there as well!"
+
+"Eve?"
+
+"Yes. I don't think I was ever so glad to see her in my life." He
+laughed almost hysterically. "I was quite civil to her, and she
+was--quite sweet to me--" Again he laughed.
+
+Loder's lips tightened.
+
+"You see, it saved the situation. Even if Lillian wanted to be nasty,
+she couldn't, while Eve was there. We talked for about ten minutes. We
+were quite an amiable trio. Then Lillian told me why she'd called.
+She wanted me to make a fourth in a theatre party at the 'Arcadian'
+to-night, and I--I was so pleased and so relieved that I said yes!" He
+paused and laughed again unsteadily.
+
+In his tense anxiety, Loder ground his heel into the floor. "Go on!" he
+said, fiercely. "Go on!"
+
+"Don't!" Chilcote exclaimed. "I'm going on--I'm going on." He passed his
+handkerchief across his lips. "We talked for ten minutes or so, and then
+Lillian left. I went with her to the hall door, but Chapham was there
+too--so I was still safe. She laughed and chatted and seemed in high
+spirits as we crossed the hall, and she was still smiling as she waved
+to me from her motor. But then, Loder--then, as I stood in the hall, it
+all came to me suddenly. I remembered that Lillian must have been alone
+in the morning-room before Eve found her! I remembered the telegram! I
+ran back to the room, meaning to question Eve as to how long Lillian
+had been alone, but she had left the room. I ran to the bureau--but the
+telegram wasn't there!"
+
+"Gone?"
+
+"Yes, gone. That's why I've come straight here."
+
+For a moment they confronted each other. Then, moved by a sudden
+impulse, Loder pushed Chilcote aside and crossed the room. An instant
+later the opening and shutting of doors, the hasty pulling out of
+drawers and moving of boxes, came from the bedroom.
+
+Chilcote, shaken and nervous, stood for a minute where his companion
+had left him; at last, impelled by curiosity, he too crossed the narrow
+passage and entered the second room.
+
+The full light streamed in through the open window; the keen spring air
+blew freshly across the house-tops; and on the window-sill a band of
+grimy, joyous sparrows twittered and preened themselves. In the middle
+of the room stood Loder. His coat was off, and round him on chairs and
+floor lay an array of waistcoats, gloves, and ties.
+
+For a space Chilcote stood in the doorway staring at him; then his lips
+parted and he took a step forward. "Loder--" he said, anxiously. "Loder,
+what are you going to do?"
+
+Loder turned. His shoulders were stiff, his face alight with energy.
+"I'm going back," he said, "to unravel the tangle you have made."
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+
+Loder's plan of action was arrived at before he reached Trafalgar
+Square. The facts of the case were simple. Chilcote had left an
+incriminating telegram on the bureau in the morning-room at Grosvenor
+Square; by an unlucky chance Lillian Astrupp had been shown up into that
+room, where she had remained alone until the moment that Eve, either
+by request or by accident, had found her there. The facts resolved
+themselves into one question. What use had Lillian made of those
+solitary moments? Without deviation, Loder's mind turned towards one
+answer. Lillian was not the woman to lose an opportunity, whether the
+space at her command were long or short. True, Eve too had been alone
+in the room, while Chilcote had accompanied Lillian to the door; but
+of this he made small account. Eve had been there, but Lillian had been
+there first. Judging by precedent, by personal character, by all human
+probability, it was not to be supposed that anything would have been
+left for the second comer.
+
+So convinced was he that, reaching Trafalgar Square, he stopped and
+hailed a hansom.
+
+"Cadogan Gardens!" he called. "No. 33."
+
+The moments seemed very few before the cab drew up beside the curb
+and he caught his second glimpse of the enamelled door with its silver
+fittings. The white and silver gleamed in the sunshine; banks of cream
+colored hyacinths clustered on the window-sills, filling the clear air
+with a warm and fragrant scent. With that strange sensation of having
+lived through the scene before, Loder left the cab and walked up the
+steps. Instantly he pressed the bell the door was opened by Lillian's
+discreet, deferential man-servant.
+
+"Is Lady Astrupp at home?" he asked.
+
+The man looked thoughtful. "Her ladyship lunched at home, sir--" he
+began, cautiously.
+
+But Loder interrupted him. "Ask her to see me," he said, laconically.
+
+The servant expressed no surprise. His only comment was to throw the
+door wide.
+
+"If you'll wait in the white room, sir," he said, "I'll inform her
+ladyship." Chilcote was evidently a frequent and a favored visitor.
+
+In this manner Loder for the second time entered the house so
+unfamiliar--and yet so familiar in all that it suggested. Entering the
+drawing-room, he had leisure to look about him. It was a beautiful room,
+large and lofty; luxury was evident on every hand, but it was not the
+luxury that palls or offends. Each object was graceful, and possessed
+its own intrinsic value. The atmosphere was too effeminate to appeal to
+him, but he acknowledged the taste and artistic delicacy it conveyed.
+Almost at the moment of acknowledgment the door opened to admit Lillian.
+
+She wore the same gown of pale-colored cloth, warmed and softened by
+rich furs, that she had worn on the day she and Chilcote had driven in
+the park.
+
+She was drawing on her gloves as she came into the room; and pausing
+near the door, she looked across at Loder and, laughed in her slow,
+amused way.
+
+"I thought it would be you," she said, enigmatically.
+
+Loder came forward. "You expected me?" he said, guardedly. A sudden
+conviction filled him that it was not the evidence of her eyes,
+but something at once subtler and more definite, that prompted her
+recognition of him.
+
+She smiled. "Why should I expect you? On the contrary, I'm waiting to
+know why you're here?"
+
+He was silent for an instant; then he answered in her own light tone.
+"As far as that goes," he said, "let's make it my duty call-having dined
+with you. I'm an old-fashioned person."
+
+For a full second she surveyed him amusedly; then at last she spoke. "My
+dear Jack"--she laid particular stress on the name--"I never imagined
+you punctilious. I should have thought bohemian would have been more the
+word."
+
+Loder felt disconcerted and annoyed. Either, like himself, she was
+fishing for information, or she was deliberately playing with him. In
+his perplexity he glanced across the room towards the fireplace.
+
+Lillian saw the look. "Won't you sit down?" she said, indicating the
+couch. "I promise not to make you smoke. I sha'n't even ask you to take
+off your gloves!"
+
+Loder made no movement. His mind was unpleasantly upset. It was nearly
+a fortnight since he had seen Lillian, and in the interval her attitude
+had changed, and the change puzzled him. It might mean the philosophy of
+a woman who, knowing herself without adequate weapons, withdraws from a
+combat that has proved fruitless; or it might imply the merely catlike
+desire to toy with a certainty. He looked quickly at the delicate
+face, the green eyes somewhat obliquely set, the unreliable mouth; and
+instantly he inclined to the latter theory. The conviction that she
+possessed the telegram filled him suddenly, and with it came the desire
+to put his belief to the test--to know beyond question whether her
+smiling unconcern meant malice or mere entertainment.
+
+"When you first came into the room," he said, quietly, "you said 'I
+thought it would be you.' Why did you say that?"
+
+Again she smiled--the smile that might be malicious or might be merely
+amused. "Oh," she answered at last, "I only meant that though I had
+been told Jack Chilcote wanted me, it wasn't Jack Chilcote I expected to
+see!"
+
+After her statement there was a pause. Loder's position was difficult.
+Instinctively convinced that, strong in the possession of her proof,
+she was enjoying his tantalized discomfort, he yet craved the actual
+evidence that should set his suspicions to rest. Acting upon the desire,
+he made a new beginning.
+
+"Do you know why I came?" he asked.
+
+Lillian looked up innocently. "It's so hard to be certain of anything in
+this world," she said. "But one is always at liberty to guess."
+
+Again he was perplexed. Her attitude was not quite the attitude of
+one who controls the game, and yet--He looked at her with a puzzled
+scrutiny. Women for him had always spelled the incomprehensible; he was
+at his best, his strongest, his surest in the presence of men. Feeling
+his disadvantage, yet determined to gain his end, he made a last
+attempt.
+
+"How did you amuse yourself at Grosvenor Square this morning before
+Eve came to you?" he asked. The effort was awkwardly blunt, but it was
+direct.
+
+Lillian was buttoning her glove. She did not raise her head as he
+spoke, but her fingers paused in their task. For a second she remained
+motionless, then she looked up slowly.
+
+"Oh," she said, sweetly, "so I was right in my guess? You did come to
+find out whether I sat in the morning-room with my hands in my lap--or
+wandered about in search of entertainment?"
+
+Loder colored with annoyance and apprehension. Every look, every tone of
+Lillian's was distasteful to him. No microscope could have revealed her
+more fully to him than did his own eyesight. But it was not the moment
+for personal antipathies; there were other interests than his own at
+stake. With new resolution he returned her glance.
+
+"Then I must still ask my first question, why did you say, 'I thought it
+would be you?'" His gaze was direct--so direct that it disconcerted her.
+She laughed a little uneasily.
+
+"Because I knew."
+
+"How did you know?"
+
+"Because--" she began; then again she laughed. "Because," she added,
+quickly, as if moved by a fresh impulse, "Jack Chilcote made it very
+obvious to any one who was in his morning-room at twelve o'clock today
+that it would be you and not he who would be found filling his place
+this afternoon! It's all very well to talk about honor, but when one
+walks into an empty room and sees a telegram as long as a letter open on
+a bureau--"
+
+But her sentence was never finished. Loder had heard what he came to
+hear; any confession she might have to offer was of no moment in his
+eyes.
+
+"My dear girl," he broke in, brusquely, "don't trouble! I should make a
+most unsatisfactory father confessor." He spoke quickly. His color was
+still high, but not of annoyance. His suspense was transformed into
+unpleasant certainty; but the exchange left him surer of himself. His
+perplexity had dropped to a quiet sense of self-reliance; his paramount
+desire was for solitude in which to prepare for the task that lay before
+him; the most congenial task the world possessed--the unravelling of
+Chilcote's tangled skeins. Looking into Lillian's eyes, he smiled.
+"Good-bye!" he said, holding out his hand. "I think we've finished--for
+to-day."
+
+She slowly extended her fingers. Her expression and attitude were
+slightly puzzled--a puzzlement that was either spontaneous or singularly
+well assumed. As their hands touched she smiled again.
+
+"Will you drop in at the 'Arcadian' to-night?" she said. "It's the
+dramatized version of 'Other Men's Shoes!' The temptation to make you
+see it was too irresistible--as you know."
+
+There was a pause while she waited for his answer--her head inclined to
+one side, her green eyes gleaming.
+
+Loder, conscious of her regard, hesitated for a moment. Then his face
+cleared. "Right!" he said, slowly. "'The Arcadian' tonight!"
+
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+
+Loder's frame of mind as he left Cadogan Gardens was peculiar. Once more
+he was living in the present--the forceful, exhilarating present, and
+the knowledge braced him. Upon one point his mind was satisfied. Lillian
+Astrupp had found the telegram, and it remained to him to render her
+find valueless. How he proposed to do this, how he proposed to come out
+triumphant in face of such a situation, was a matter that as yet was
+shapeless in his mind; nevertheless, the danger--the sense of impending
+conflict--had a savor of life after the inaction of the day and night
+just passed. Chilcote in his weakness and his entanglement had turned to
+him; and he in his strength and capacity had responded to the appeal.
+
+His step was firm and his bearing assured as he turned into Grosvenor
+Square and walked towards the familiar house.
+
+The habit of self-deceit is as insidious and tenacious as any vice.
+For one moment on the night of his great speech, as he leaned out of
+Chilcote's carriage and met Chilcote's eyes, Loder had seen himself--and
+under the shock of revelation had taken decisive action. But in the
+hours subsequent to that action the plausible, inner voice had whispered
+unceasingly, soothing his wounded self-esteem, rebuilding stone by stone
+the temple of his egotism; until at last when Chilcote, panic-stricken
+at his own action, had burst into his rooms ready to plead or to coerce,
+he had found no need for either coercion or entreaty. By a power more
+subtle and effective than any at his command, Loder had been prepared
+for his coming--unconsciously ready with an acquiescence before his
+appeal had been made. It was the fruit of this preparation, the
+inevitable outcome of it, that strengthened his step and steadied his
+hand as he mounted the steps and opened the hall door of Chilcote's
+house on that eventful afternoon.
+
+The dignity, the air of quiet solidity, impressed him as it never
+failed to do, as he crossed the large hall and ascended the stairs--the
+same stairs that he had passed down almost as an outcast not so many
+hours before. He was filled with the sense of things regained; belief in
+his own star lifted him as it had done a hundred times before in these
+same surroundings.
+
+He quickened his steps as the sensation came to him. Then, reaching the
+head of the stairs, he turned directly towards Eve's sitting-room, and,
+gaining the door, knocked. The strength of his eagerness, the quick
+beating of his pulse as he waited for a response, surprised him. He had
+told himself many times that his passion, however strong, would never
+again conquer as it had done two nights ago--and the fact that he had
+come thus candidly to Eve's room was to his mind a proof that temptation
+could be dared. Nevertheless there was something disconcerting to a
+strong man in this merely physical perturbation; and when Eve's voice
+came to him, giving permission to enter, he paused for an instant to
+steady himself; then with sudden decision he opened the door and walked
+into the room.
+
+The blinds were partly drawn, there was a scent of violets in the air,
+and a fire glowed warmly in the grate. He noted these things carefully,
+telling himself that a man should always be alertly sensible of his
+surroundings; then all at once the nice balancing of detail suddenly
+gave way. He forgot everything but the one circumstance that Eve was
+standing in the window--her back to the light, her face towards him.
+With his pulses beating faster and an unsteady sensation in his brain,
+he moved forward holding out his hand.
+
+"Eve--?" he said below his breath.
+
+But Eve remained motionless. As he came into the room she had glanced at
+him--a glance of quick, searching question; then with equal suddenness
+she had averted her eyes. As he drew close to her now, she remained
+immovable.
+
+"Eve--" he said again. "I wanted to see you--I wanted to explain about
+yesterday and about this morning." He paused, suddenly disturbed. The
+full remembrance of the scene in the brougham had surged up at sight
+of her--had risen a fierce, unquenchable recollection. "Eve--" he began
+again in a new, abrupt tone.
+
+And then it was that Eve showed herself in a fresh light. From his
+entrance into the room she had stayed motionless, save for her first
+glance of acute inquiry; but now her demeanor changed. For almost the
+first time in Loder's knowledge of her the vitality and force that he
+had vaguely apprehended below her quiet, serene exterior sprang up like
+a flame within whose radius things are illuminated. With a quick gesture
+she turned towards him, her warm color deepening, her eyes suddenly
+alight.
+
+"I understand," she said, "I understand. Don't try to explain! Can't you
+see that it's enough to--to see you as you are--?"
+
+Loder was surprised. Remembering their last passionate scene, and the
+damper Chilcote's subsequent presence must inevitably have cast upon
+it, he had expected to be doubtfully received; but the reality of the
+reception left him bewildered. Eve's manner was not that of the ill-used
+wife; its vehemence, its note of desire and depreciation, were more
+suggestive of his own ardent seizing of the present, as distinguished
+from past or future. With an odd sense of confusion he turned to her
+afresh.
+
+"Then I am forgiven?" he said. And unconsciously, as he moved nearer, he
+touched her arm.
+
+At his touch she started. All the yielding sweetness, all the
+submission, that had marked her two nights ago was gone; in its
+place she was possessed by a curious excitement that stirred while it
+perplexed.
+
+Loder, moved by the sensation, took another step forward. "Then I am
+forgiven?" he repeated, more softly.
+
+Her face was averted as he spoke, but he felt hen arm quiver; and when
+at last she lifted her head, their eyes met. Neither spoke, but in an
+instant Loder's arms were round her.
+
+For a long, silent space they stood holding each other closely. Then,
+with a sharp movement, Eve freed Herself. Her color was still high, her
+eyes still peculiarly bright, but the bunch of violets she had worn in
+her belt had fallen to the ground.
+
+"John--" she said, quickly; but on the word her breath caught. With a
+touch of nervousness she stooped to pick up the flowers.
+
+Loder noticed both voice and gesture. "What is it?" he said. "What were
+you going to say?"
+
+But she made no answer. For a second longer she searched for the
+violets; then, as he bent to assist her, she stood up quickly and
+laughed--a short, embarrassed laugh.
+
+"How absurd and nervous I am!" she exclaimed. "Like a schoolgirl instead
+of a woman of twenty-four. You must help me to be sensible." Her cheeks
+still burned, her manner was still excited, like one who holds an
+emotion or an impulse at bay.
+
+Loder looked at her uncertainly. "Eve--" he began afresh with his odd,
+characteristic perseverance, but she instantly checked him. There was a
+finality, a faint suggestion of fear, in her protest.
+
+"Don't!" she said. "Don't! I don't want explanations. I want to--to
+enjoy the moment without having things analyzed or smoothed away. Can't
+you understand? Can't you see that I'm wonderfully, terribly happy
+to--to have you--as you are!" Again her voice broke--a break that might
+have been a laugh or a sob.
+
+The sound was an emotional crisis, as such a sound invariably is. It
+arrested and steadied her. For a moment she stood absolutely still;
+then, with something very closely resembling her old repose of manner,
+she stooped again and quietly picked up the flowers still lying at her
+feet.
+
+"Now," she said, quietly, "I must say what I've wanted to say all along.
+How does it feel to be a great man?" Her manner was controlled, she
+looked at him evenly and directly; save for the faint vibration in her
+voice there was nothing to indicate the tumult of a moment ago.
+
+But Loder was still uncertain. He caught her hand, his eyes searching
+hers.
+
+"But Eve--" he began.
+
+Then Eve played the last card in her mysterious game. Laughing quickly
+and nervously, she freed her hand and laid it over his mouth.
+
+"No!" she said. "Not one word! All this past fortnight has belonged to
+you; now it's my turn. To-day is mine."
+
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+
+And so, once again, the woman conquered. Whatever Eve's intentions were,
+whatever she wished to evade or ward off, she was successful in gaining
+her end. For more than two hours she kept Loder at her side. There may
+have been moments in those two hours when the tension was high, when the
+efforts she made to interest and hold him were somewhat strained. But if
+this was so, it escaped the notice of the one person concerned; for it
+was long after tea had been served, long after Eve had offered to do
+penance for her monopoly of him by driving him to Chilcote's club, that
+Loder realized with any degree of distinctness that it was she and not
+he who had taken the lead in their interview; that it was she and not
+he who had bridged the difficult silences and given a fresh direction to
+dangerous channels of talk. It was long before he recognized this; but
+it was still longer before he realized the far more potent fact that,
+without any coldness, without any lessening of the subtle consideration
+she always showed him, she had given him no further opportunity of
+making love.
+
+Talking continuously, elated with the sense of conflict still to come,
+he drove with her to the club. Considering that drive in the light
+of after events, his own frame of mind invariably filled him with
+incredulity.
+
+In the eyes of any sane man his position was not worth an hour's
+purchase; yet in the blind self-confidence of the moment he would not
+have changed places with Fraide himself. The great song of Self was
+sounding in his ears as he drove through the crowded streets, conscious
+of the cool, crisp air, of Eve's close presence, of the numberless
+infinitesimal things that went to make up the value of life. It was
+this acknowledgment of personality that upheld him; the personality, the
+power that had carried him unswervingly through eleven colorless years;
+that had impelled him towards this new career when the new career had
+first been opened to him; that had hewn a way for him in this fresh
+existence against colossal odds. The indomitable force that had trampled
+out Chilcote's footmarks in public life, in private life--in love. It
+was a triumphant paean that clamored in his ears, something persistent
+and prophetic with an undernote of menace. The cry of the human soul
+that has dared to stand alone.
+
+His glance was keen and bright as he waited for a moment at the carriage
+door and took Eve's hand before entering the club.
+
+"You're dining out to-night?" he said. His fingers, always tenacious and
+masterful, continued to hold hers. The compunction that had driven him
+temporarily towards sacrifice had passed. His pride, his confidence, and
+with them his desire, had flowed back in full measure.
+
+Eve, watching him attentively, paled a little. "Yes," she said, "I'm
+dining with the Bramfells."
+
+"What time will you get home?" He scarcely realized why he put the
+question. The song of Self still sounded triumphantly, and he responded
+without reflection.
+
+His eyes held hers, his fingers pressed her hand; the intense mastery of
+his will passed through her in a sudden sense of fear. Her lips parted
+in deprecation, but he--closely attentive of her expression--spoke again
+quickly.
+
+"When can I see you?" he asked, very quietly.
+
+Again she was about to speak. She leaned forward, as if some thought
+long suppressed trembled on her lips; then her courage or her desire
+failed her. She leaned back, letting her lashes droop over her eyes. "I
+shall be home at eleven," she said below her breath.
+
+Loder dined with Lakely at Chilcote's club; and so absorbing were
+the political interests of the hour--the resignation of Sir Robert
+Sefborough, the King's summoning of Fraide, the probable features of
+the new ministry--that it was after nine o'clock when at last he freed
+himself and drove to the "Arcadian" Theatre.
+
+The sound of music came to him as he entered the theatre--light,
+measured music suggestive of tiny streams, toy lambs, and painted
+shepherdesses. It sounded singularly inappropriate to his mood--as
+inappropriate as the theatre itself with its gay gilding, its pale tones
+of pink and blue. It was the setting of a different world--a world of
+laughter, light thoughts, and shallow impulses, in which he had no part.
+He halted for an instant outside the box to which the attendant had
+shown him; then, as the door was thrown open, he straightened himself
+resolutely and stepped forward.
+
+It was the interval between the first and second acts.
+
+The box was in shadow, and Loder's first impression was of voices
+and rustling skirts, broken in upon by the murmur of frequent,
+amused laughter; later, as his eyes grew accustomed to the light, he
+distinguished the occupants--two women and a man. The man was speaking
+as he entered, and the story he was relating was evidently interesting
+from the faint exclamations of question and delight that punctuated it
+in the listeners' higher, softer voices. As the new-comer entered they
+all three turned and looked at him.
+
+"Ah, here comes the legislator!" exclaimed Leonard Kaine. For it was he
+who formed the male element in the party.
+
+"The Revolutionary, Lennie!" Lillian corrected, softly. "Bramfell
+says he has changed the whole face of things--" She laughed softly and
+meaningly as she closed her fan. "So good of you to come, Jack!" she
+added. "Let me introduce you to Miss Esseltyn; I don't think you two
+have met. This is Mr. Chilcote, Mary--the great, new Mr. Chilcote."
+Again she laughed.
+
+Loder bowed and moved to the front of the box, nodding to Kaine as he
+passed.
+
+"It's only for an hour," he explained to Lillian. "I have an appointment
+for eleven." He turned and bowed to the third occupant of the box--a
+remarkably young and well-dressed girl with wide-awake eyes and a
+retrousse nose.
+
+"Only an hour! Oh, how unkind! How should I punish him, Lennie?" Lillian
+looked round at Kaine with a lingering, caressing glance.
+
+He bent towards her in quick response and answered in a whisper.
+
+She laughed and replied in an equally low tone.
+
+Loder, to whom both remarks had been inaudible dropped into the vacant
+seat beside Mary Esseltyn. He had the unsettled feeling that things were
+not falling out exactly as he had calculated.
+
+"What is the play like?" he hazarded as he looked towards his companion.
+At all times social trivialities bored him; to-night they were
+intolerable. He had come to fight, but all at once it seemed that
+there was no opponent. Lillian's attitude disturbed him; her careless
+graciousness, her evident ignoring of him for Kaine, might mean
+nothing--but also it might mean much.
+
+So he speculated as he put his question and spurred his attention
+towards the girl's answer; but with the speculation came the resolve
+to hold his own--to meet his enemy upon whatever ground she chose to
+appropriate.
+
+The girl looked at him with interest. She, too, had heard of his
+triumph.
+
+"It is a good play," she responded. "I like it better than the book.
+You've read the book, of course?"
+
+"No." Loder tried hard to fix his thoughts.
+
+"It's amusing--but far-fetched."
+
+"Indeed?" He picked up the programme lying on the edge of the box. His
+ears were strained to catch the tone of Lillian's voice as she laughed
+and whispered with Kaine.
+
+"Yes; men exchanging identities, you know."
+
+He looked up and caught the girl's self-possessed glance. "Oh?" he said.
+"Indeed?" Then again he looked away. It was intolerable this feeling
+of being caged up! A sense of anger crept through his mind. It almost
+seemed that Lillian had brought him there to prove that she had finished
+with him--had cast him aside, having used him for the day's excitement
+as she had used her poodles, her Persian cats, her crystal-gazing.
+All at once the impotency and uncertainty of his position goaded him.
+Turning swiftly in his seat, he glanced back to where she sat, slowly
+swaying her fan, her pale, golden hair and her pale-colored gown
+delicately silhouetted against the background of the box.
+
+"What's your idea of the play, Lillian?" he said, abruptly. To his own
+ears there was a note of challenge in his voice.
+
+She looked round languidly. "Oh, it's quite amusing," she said. "It
+makes a delicious farce--absolutely French."
+
+"French?"
+
+"Quite. Don't you think so, Lennie?"
+
+"Oh, quite," Kaine agreed.
+
+"They mean that it's so very light--and yet so very subtle, Mr.
+Chilcote," Mary Esseltyn explained.
+
+"Indeed?" he said. "Then my imagination was at fault. I thought the
+piece was serious."
+
+"Serious!" Lillian smiled again. "Why, where's your sense of humor? The
+motive of the play debars all seriousness."
+
+Loder looked down at the programme still between his hands. "What is the
+motive?" he asked.
+
+Lillian waved her fan once or twice, then closed it softly. "Love is the
+motive," she said.
+
+Now the balancing--the adjusting of impression and inspirations, of all
+processes in life, the most delicately fine. The simple sound of the
+word "love" coming at that precise juncture changed the whole current
+of Loder's thought. It fell like a seed; and like a seed in
+ultra-productive soil, it bore fruit with amazing rapidity.
+
+The word itself was small and the manner in which it was spoken trivial,
+but Loder's mind was attracted and held by it. The last time it had met
+his ears his environment had been vastly different; and this echo of it
+in an uncongenial atmosphere stung him to resentment. The vision of Eve,
+the thought of Eve, became suddenly dominant.
+
+"Love?" he repeated, coldly. "So love is the motive?"
+
+"Yes." This time it was Kaine who responded in his methodical, contented
+voice. "The motive of the play is love, as Lillian says. And when was
+love ever serious in a three-act comedy--on or off the stage?"  He
+leaned forward in his seat, screwed in his eye-glass, and lazily scanned
+the stalls.
+
+The orchestra was playing a Hungarian dance--its erratic harmonies and
+wild alternations of expression falling abruptly across the pinks and
+blues, the gilding and lights of the pretty, conventional theatre.
+Something in the suggestion of unfitness appealed to Loder. It was the
+force of the real as opposed to the ideal. With a new expression on his
+face, he turned again to Kaine.
+
+"And how does it work?" he said. "This treatment that you find
+so--French?"
+
+His voice as well as his expression had changed. He still spoke quietly,
+but he spoke with interest. He was no longer conscious of his vague and
+uneasiness; a fresh chord had been struck in his mind, and his curiosity
+had responded to it. For the first time it occurred to him that
+love--the dangerous, mysterious garden whose paths had so suddenly
+stretched out before his own feet--was a pleasure-ground that possessed
+many doors--and an infinite number of keys. He was stirred by the
+desire to peer through another entrance than his own, to see the secret,
+alluring byways from another stand-point. He waited with interest for
+the answer to his question.
+
+For a second or two Kaine continued to survey the house; then his
+eye-glass dropped from his eye and he turned round.
+
+"To understand the thing," he said, pleasantly, "you must have read the
+book. Have you read the book?"
+
+"No, Mr. Kaine," Mary Esseltyn interrupted, "Mr. Chilcote hasn't read
+the book."
+
+Lillian laughed. "Outline the story for him, Lennie," she said. "I love
+to see other people taking pains."
+
+Kaine glanced at her admiringly. "Well, to begin with," he said,
+amiably, "two men, an artist and a millionaire, exchange lives. See?"
+
+"You may presume that he does see, Lennie."
+
+"Right! Well, then, as I say, these beggars change identities. They're
+as like as pins; and to all appearances one chap's the other chap--and
+the other chap's the first chap. See?"
+
+Loder laughed. The newly quickened interest was enhanced by treading on
+dangerous ground.
+
+"Well, they change for a lark, of course, but there's one fact they both
+overlook. They're men, you know, and they forget these little things!"
+He laughed delightedly. "They overlook the fact that one of 'em has got
+a wife!"
+
+There was a crash of music from the orchestra. Loder sat straighter in
+his seat; he was conscious that the blood had rushed into his face.
+
+"Oh, indeed?" he said, quickly. "One of them had a wife?"
+
+"Exactly!" Again Kaine chuckled. "And the point of the joke is that the
+wife is the least larky person under the sun. See?"
+
+A second hot wave passed over Loder's face; a sense of mental disgust
+filled him. This, then, was the wonderful garden seen from another
+stand-point! He looked from Lillian, graceful, sceptical, and shallow,
+to the young girl beside him, so frankly modern in her appreciation of
+life. This, then, was love as seen by the eyes of the world--the world
+that accepts, judges, and condemns in a slang phrase or two! Very slowly
+the blood receded from his face.
+
+"And the end of the story?" he asked, in a strained voice.
+
+"The end? Oh, usual end, of course. Chap makes a mess of things and the
+bubble bursts."
+
+"And the end of the wife?"
+
+"The end of the wife?" Lillian broke in, with a little laugh. "Why, the
+end of all stupid people who, instead of going through life with a lot
+of delightfully human stumbles, come just one big cropper. She naturally
+ends in the divorce court!"
+
+They all laughed boisterously. Then laughter, story, and denouement were
+all drowned in a tumultuous crash of music. The orchestra ceased; there
+was a slight hum of applause; and the curtain rose on the second act of
+the comedy.
+
+
+
+
+XXXI
+
+
+A few minutes before the curtain fell on the second act of 'Other Men's
+Shoes' Loder rose from his seat and made his apologies to Lillian.
+
+At any other moment he might have pondered over her manner of accepting
+them--the easy indifference with which she let him go. But vastly keener
+issues were claiming his attention, issues whose results were wide and
+black.
+
+He left the theatre, and, refusing the overtures of cabmen, set himself
+to walk to Chilcote's house. His face was hard and emotionless as he
+hurried forward, but the chaos in his mind found expression in the
+unevenness of his pace. To a strong man the confronting of difficulties
+is never alarming and is often fraught with inspiration; but this
+applies essentially to the difficulties evolved through the weakness,
+the folly, or the force of another; when they arise from within the
+matter is of another character. It is in presence of his own soul--and
+in that presence alone--that a man may truly measure himself.
+
+As Loder walked onward, treading the whole familiar length of
+traffic-filled street, he realized for the first time that he was
+standing before that solemn tribunal that the hour had come when he must
+answer to himself for himself. The longer and deeper an oblivion the
+more painful the awakening. For months the song of self had beaten
+about his ears, deadening all other sounds; now abruptly that song had
+ceased--not considerately, not lingeringly, but with a suddenness that
+made the succeeding silence very terrible.
+
+He walked onward, keeping his direction unseeingly. He was passing
+through the fire as surely as though actual flames rose about his feet;
+and whatever the result, whatever the fibre of the man who emerged from
+the ordeal, the John Loder who had hewn his way through the past weeks
+would exist no more. The triumphant egotist--the strong man--who, by his
+own strength, had kept his eyes upon one point, refusing to see in other
+directions, had ceased to be.
+
+Keen though it was, his realization of this crisis in his life had come
+with characteristic slowness. When Lillian Astrupp had given her dictum,
+when the music of the orchestra had ceased and the curtain risen on the
+second act of the play, nothing but a sense of stupefaction had filled
+his mind. In that moment the great song was silenced, not by any
+portentous episode, not by any incident that could have lent dignity to
+its end, but--with the full measure of life's irony--by a trivial social
+commonplace. In the first sensation of blank loss his faculties had been
+numbed; in the quarter of an hour that followed the rise of the curtain
+he had sat staring at the stage, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, filled
+with the enormity of the void that suddenly surrounded him. Then,
+from habit, from constitutional tendency, he had begun slowly and
+perseveringly to draw first one thread and then another from the tangle
+of his thoughts--to forge with doubt and difficulty the chain that was
+to draw him towards the future.
+
+It was upon this same incomplete and yet tenacious chain that his mind
+worked as he traversed the familiar streets and at last gained the house
+he had so easily learned to call home.
+
+As he inserted the latch-key and felt it move smoothly in the lock, a
+momentary revolt against his own judgment, his own censorship swung him
+sharply towards reaction. But it is only the blind who can walk without
+a tremor on the edge of an abyss, and there was no longer a bandage
+across his eyes. The reaction flared up like a strip of lighted paper;
+then, like a strip of lighted paper, it dropped back to ashes. He pushed
+the door open and slowly crossed the hall.
+
+The mounting of a staircase is often the index to a man's state of mind.
+As Loder ascended the stairs of Chilcote's house his shoulders lacked
+their stiffness, his head was no longer erect; he moved as though his
+feet were weighted. He had ceased to be the man of achievement whose
+smallest opinion compels consideration; in the privacy of solitude he
+was the mere human flotsam to which he had once compared himself--the
+flotsam that, dreaming it has found a harbor, wakes to find itself the
+prey of the incoming tide.
+
+He paused at the head of the stairs to rally his resolutions; then,
+still walking heavily, he passed down the corridor to Eve's room. It was
+suggestive of his character that, having made his decision, he did not
+dally over its performance. Without waiting to knock, he turned the
+handle and walked into the room.
+
+It looked precisely as it always looked, but to Loder the rich, subdued
+coloring of books and flowers--the whole air of culture and repose that
+the place conveyed--seemed to hold a deeper meaning than before; and it
+was on the instant that his eyes, crossing the inanimate objects, rested
+on their owner that the true force of his position, the enormity of the
+task before him, made itself plain. Realization came to him with vivid,
+overwhelming force; and it must be accounted to his credit, in the
+summing of his qualities, that then, in that moment of trial, the
+thought of retreat, the thought of yielding did not present itself.
+
+Eve was standing by the mantel-piece. She wore a beautiful gown, a long
+string of diamonds was twisted about her neck, and her soft, black hair
+was coiled high after a foreign fashion, and held in place by a large
+diamond comb. As he entered she turned hastily, almost nervously, and
+looked at him with the rapid, searching glance he had learned to expect
+from her; then, almost directly, her expression changed to one of quick
+concern. With a faint exclamation of alarm she stepped forward.
+
+"What has happened?" she said. "You look like a ghost."
+
+Loder made no answer. Moving into the room, he paused by the oak table
+that stood between the fireplace and the door.
+
+They made an unconscious tableau as they stood there--he with his hard,
+set face, she with her heightened color, her inexplicably bright eyes.
+They stood completely silent for a space--a space that for Loder held
+no suggestion of time; then, finding the tension unbearable, Eve spoke
+again.
+
+"Has anything happened?" she asked. "Is any thing wrong?"
+
+Had he been less engrossed the intensity of her concern might have
+struck him; but in a mind so harassed as his there was only room for one
+consideration--the consideration of himself. The sense of her question
+reached him, but its significance left him untouched.
+
+"Is anything wrong?" she reiterated for the second time.
+
+By an effort he raised his eyes. No man, he thought, since the beginning
+of the world was ever set a task so cruel as his. Painfully and slowly
+his lips parted.
+
+"Everything in the world is wrong," he said, in a slow, hard voice.
+
+Eve said nothing but her color suddenly deepened.
+
+Again Loder was unobservant. But with the dogged resolution that marked
+him he forced himself to his task.
+
+"You despise lies," he said, at last. "Tell me what you would think of
+a man whose whole life was one elaborated lie?" The words were slightly
+exaggerated, but their utterance, their painfully brusque sincerity,
+precluded all suggestion of effect. Resolutely holding her gaze he
+repeated his question.
+
+"Tell me! Answer me! I want to know."
+
+Eve's attitude was difficult to read. She stood twisting the string of
+diamonds between her fingers.
+
+"Tell me?" he said again.
+
+She continued to look at him for a moment; then, as if some fresh
+impulse moved her, she turned away from him towards the fire.
+
+"I cannot," she said. "We--I--I could not set myself to judge--any one."
+
+Loder held himself rigidly in hand.
+
+"Eve," he said, quietly, "I was at the `Arcadian' to-night. The play
+was 'Other Men's Shoes.' I suppose you've read the book 'Other Men's
+Shoes'?"
+
+She was leaning on the mantel-piece and her face was invisible to him.
+"Yes, I have read it," she said, without looking round.
+
+"It is the story of an extraordinary likeness between two men. Do
+you believe such a likeness possible? Do you think such a thing could
+exist?" He spoke with difficulty; his brain and tongue both felt numb.
+
+Eve let the diamond chain slip from her fingers. "Yes," she said,
+nervously. "Yes, I do believe it. Such things have been--"
+
+Loder caught at the words. "You're quite right," he said, quickly.
+"You're quite right. The thing is possible--I've proved it. I know a man
+so like me that you, even you, could not tell us apart."
+
+Eve was silent, still averting her face.
+
+In dire difficulty he labored on. "Eve," he began once more, "such a
+likeness is a serious thing--a terrible danger--a terrible temptation.
+Those who have no experience of it cannot possibly gauge its pitfalls--"
+Again he paused, but again the silent figure by the fireplace gave him
+no help.
+
+"Eve," he exclaimed, suddenly, "if you only knew, if you only guessed
+what I'm trying to say--" The perplexity, the whole harassed suffering
+of his mind showed in the words. Loder, the strong, the resourceful, the
+self-contained, was palpably, painfully at a loss. There was almost a
+note of appeal in the vibration of his voice.
+
+And Eve, standing by the fireplace, heard and understood. In that moment
+of comprehension all that had held her silent, all the conflicting
+motives that had forbidden speech, melted away before the unconscious
+demand for help. Quietly and yet quickly she turned, her whole face
+transfigured by a light that seemed to shine from within--something
+singularly soft and tender.
+
+"There's no need to say anything," she said, simply, "because I know."
+
+It came quietly, as most great revelations come. Her voice was low
+and free from any excitement, her face beautiful in its complete
+unconsciousness of self. In that supreme moment all her thought, all her
+sympathy was for the man--and his suffering.
+
+To Loder there was a space of incredulity; then his brain slowly swung
+to realization. "You know?" he repeated, blankly. "You know?"
+
+Without answering she walked to a cabinet that stood in the window,
+unlocked a drawer, and drew out several sheets of flimsy white paper,
+crumpled in places and closely covered with writing. Without a word she
+carried them back and held them out.
+
+He took them in silence, scanned them, then looked up.
+
+In a long, worthless pause their eyes met. It was as if each looked
+speechlessly into the other's heart, seeing the passions, the
+contradictions, the shortcomings that went to the making of both. In
+that silence they drew closer together than they could have done through
+a torrent of words. There was no asking of forgiveness, no elaborate
+confession on either side; in the deep, eloquent pause they mutually saw
+and mutually understood.
+
+"When I came into the morning-room to-day," Eve said, at last, "and saw
+Lillian Astrupp reading that telegram, nothing could have seemed further
+from me than the thought that I should follow her example. It was not
+until afterwards; not until--he came into the room; until I saw that
+you, as I believed, had fallen back again from what I respected to what
+I despised--that I knew how human I really was. As I watched them laugh
+and talk I felt suddenly that I was alone again--terribly alone. I--I
+think--I believe I was jealous in that moment--" She hesitated.
+
+"Eve!" he exclaimed.
+
+But she broke in quickly on the word. "I felt different in that moment.
+I didn't care about honor--or things like honor. After they had gone it
+seemed to me that I had missed something--something that they possessed.
+Oh, you don't know what a woman feels when she is jealous!" Again she
+paused. "It was then that the telegram, and the thought of Lillian's
+amused smile as she had read it, came to my mind. Feeling as I
+did--acting on what I felt--I crossed to the bureau and picked it up. In
+one second I had seen enough to make it impossible to draw back. Oh, it
+may have been dishonorable, it may have been mean, but I wonder if any
+woman in the world would have done otherwise! I crumpled up the papers
+just as they were and carried them to my own room."
+
+From the first to the last word of Eve's story Loder's eyes never
+left her face. Instantly she had finished his voice broke forth in
+irrepressible question. In that wonderful space of time he had learned
+many things. All his deductions, all his apprehensions had been
+scattered and disproved. He had seen the true meaning of Lillian
+Astrupp's amused indifference--the indifference of a variable, flippant
+nature that, robbed of any real weapon for mischief, soon tires of a
+game that promises to be too arduous. He saw all this and understood
+it with a rapidity born of the moment; nevertheless, when Eve ceased to
+speak the question that broke from him was not connected with this
+great discovery--was not even suggestive of it. It was something quite
+immaterial to any real issue, but something that overshadowed every
+consideration in the world.
+
+"Eve," he said, "tell me your first thought? Your first thought after
+the shock and the surprise--when you remembered me?"
+
+There was a fresh pause, but one of very short duration; then Eve met
+his glance fearlessly and frankly. The same pride and dignity, the same
+indescribable tenderness that had responded to his first appeal shone in
+her face.
+
+"My first thought was a great thankfulness," she said, simply. "A
+thankfulness that you--that no man--could ever understand."
+
+
+
+
+XXXII
+
+
+As she finished speaking Eve did not lower her eyes. To her there was no
+suggestion of shame in her thoughts or her words; but to Loder, watching
+and listening, there was a perilous meaning contained in both.
+
+"Thankfulness?" he repeated, slowly. From his newly stirred sense of
+responsibility pity and sympathy were gradually rising. He had never
+seen Eve as he saw her now, and his vision was all the clearer for the
+long oblivion. With a poignant sense of compassion and remorse, the
+knowledge of her youth came to him--the youth that some women preserve
+in the midst of the world, when circumstances have permitted them to see
+much but to experience little.
+
+"Thankfulness?" he said again, incredulously.
+
+A slight smile touched her lips. "Yes," she answered, softly.
+"Thankfulness that my trust had been rightly placed."
+
+She spoke simply and confidently, but the words struck Loder more
+sharply than any accusation. With a heavy sense of bitterness and
+renunciation he moved slowly forward.
+
+"Eve," he said, very gently, "you don't know what you say."
+
+She had lowered her eyes as he came towards her; now again she lifted
+them in a swift, upward glance. For the first time since he had entered
+the room a slight look of personal doubt and uneasiness showed in her
+face. "Why?" she said. "I--I don't understand."
+
+For a moment he answered nothing. He had found his first explanation
+overwhelming; now suddenly it seemed to him that his present difficulty
+was more impossible to surmount. "I came here to-night to tell you
+something," he began, at last, "but so far I have only said half--"
+
+"Half?"
+
+"Yes, half." He repeated the word quickly, avoiding the question in her
+eyes. Then, conscious of the need for explanation, he plunged into rapid
+speech.
+
+"A fraud like mine," he said, "has only one safeguard, one
+justification--a boundless audacity. Once shake that audacity and the
+whole motive power crumbles. It was to make the audacity impossible--to
+tell you the truth and make it impossible--that I came to-night. The
+fact that you already knew made the telling easier--but it altered
+nothing."
+
+Eve raised her head, but he went resolutely on.
+
+"To-night," he said, "I have seen into my own life, into my own mind,
+and my ideas have been very roughly shaken into new places.
+
+"We never make so colossal a mistake as when we imagine that we know
+ourselves. Months ago, when your husband first proposed this scheme
+to me, I was, according to my own conception, a solitary being vastly
+ill-used by Fate, who, with a fine stoicism, was leading a clean life.
+That was what I believed; but there, at the very outset, I deceived
+myself. I was simply a man who shut himself up because he cherished
+a grudge against life, and who lived honestly because he had a
+constitutional distaste for vice. My first feeling when I saw your
+husband was one of self-righteous contempt, and that has been my
+attitude all along. I have often marvelled at the flood of intolerance
+that has rushed over me at sight of him--the violent desire that has
+possessed me to look away from his weakness and banish the knowledge of
+it; but now I understand.
+
+"I know now what the feeling meant. The knowledge came to me to-night.
+It meant that I turned away from his weakness because deep within myself
+something stirred in recognition of it. Humanity is really much
+simpler than we like to think, and human impulses have an extraordinary
+fundamental connection. Weakness is egotism--but so is strength.
+Chilcote has followed his vice; I have followed my ambition. It will
+take a higher judgment than yours or mine to say which of us has been
+the more selfish man." He paused and looked at her.
+
+She was watching him intently. Some of the meaning in his face had found
+a pained, alarmed reflection in her own. But the awe and wonder of the
+morning's discovery still colored her mind too vividly to allow of other
+considerations possessing their proper value. The thrill of exultation
+with which the misgivings born of Chilcote's vice had dropped away
+from her mental image of Loder was still too absorbing to be easily
+dominated. She loved, and as if by a miracle her love had been
+justified! For the moment the justification was all-sufficing. Something
+of confidence--something of the innocence that comes not from ignorance
+of evil but from a mind singularly uncontaminated--blinded her to the
+danger of her position.
+
+Loder, waiting apprehensively for some aid, some expression of opinion,
+became gradually conscious of this lack of realization. Moved by a fresh
+impulse, he crossed the small space that divided them and caught her
+hands.
+
+"Eve," he said, gently, "I have been trying to analyze myself and give
+you the results; but I sha'n't try any more; I shall be quite plain with
+you.
+
+"From the first moment I took your husband's place I was ambitious. You
+unconsciously aroused the feeling when you brought me Fraide's message
+on the first night. You aroused it by your words--but more strongly,
+though more obscurely, by your underlying antagonism. On that
+night, though I did not know it, I took up my position--I made my
+determination. Do you know what that determination was?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"It was the desire to stamp out Chilcote's footmarks with my own--to
+prove that personality is the great force capable of everything. I
+forgot to reckon that when we draw largely upon Fate she generally
+extorts a crushing interest.
+
+"First came the wish for your respect; then the desire to stand
+well with such men as Fraide--to feel the stir of emulation and
+competition--to prove myself strong in the one career I knew myself
+really fitted for. For a time the second ambition overshadowed the
+first, but the first was bound to reassert itself; and in a moment of
+egotism I conceived the notion of winning your enthusiasm as well as
+your respect--"
+
+Eve's face, alert and questioning, suddenly paled as a doubt crossed her
+mind.
+
+"Then it was only--only to stand well with me?"
+
+"I believed it was only the desire to stand well with you; I believed it
+until the night of my speech--if you can credit anything so absurd--then
+on that night, as I came up the stairs to the gallery and saw you
+standing there, the blindness fell away and I knew that I loved you." As
+he said the last words he released her hands and turned aside, missing
+the quick wave of joy and color that crossed her face.
+
+"I knew it, but it made no difference; I was only moved to a higher
+self-glorification. I touched supremacy that night. But as we drove home
+I experienced the strangest coincidence of my life. You remember the
+block in the traffic at Piccadilly?"
+
+Again Eve bent her head.
+
+"Well, when I looked out of the carriage window to discover its cause
+the first man I saw was--Chilcote."
+
+Eve started slightly. This swift, unexpected linking of Chilcote's name
+with the most exalted moment of her life stirred her unpleasantly. Some
+glimmering of Loder's intention in so linking it, broke through the web
+of disturbed and conflicting thoughts.
+
+"You saw him on that night?"
+
+"Yes; and the sight chilled me. It was a big drop from supremacy to the
+remembrance of--everything."
+
+Involuntarily she put out her hand.
+
+But Loder shook his head. "No," he said, "don't pity me! The sight of
+him came just in time. I had a reaction in that moment, and, such as
+it was, I acted on it. I went to him next morning and told him that the
+thing must end. But then--even then--I shirked being honest with myself.
+I had meant to tell him that it must end because I had grown to love
+you, but my pride rose up and tied my tongue. I could not humiliate
+myself. I put the case before him in another light. It was a tussle of
+wills--and I won; but the victory was not what it should have been.
+That was proved to-day when he returned to tell me of the loss of this
+telegram. It wasn't the fear that Lady Astrupp had found it; it wasn't
+to save the position that I jumped at the chance of coming back; it was
+to feel the joy of living, the joy of seeing you--if only for a day!"
+For one second he turned towards her, then as abruptly he turned away
+again.
+
+"I was still thinking of myself," he said. "I was still utterly
+self-centred when I came to this room today and allowed you to talk
+to me--when I asked you to see me to-night as we parted at the club. I
+sha'n't tell you the thoughts that unconsciously were in my mind when I
+asked that favor. You must understand without explanation.
+
+"I went to the theatre with Lady Astrupp ostensibly to find out how the
+land lay in her direction--really to heighten my self-esteem. But there
+Fate--or the power we like to call by that name--was lying in wait for
+me, ready to claim the first interest in the portion of life I had dared
+to borrow." He said this slowly, as if measuring each word. He did
+not glance towards Eve as he had done in his previous pause. His whole
+manner seemed oppressed by the gravity of what he had still to say.
+
+"I doubt if a man has ever seen more in half an hour than I have
+to-night," he said. "I'm speaking of mental seeing, of course. In this
+play, 'Other Men's Shoes,' two men change identities--as Chilcote and I
+have done--but in doing so they overlook one fact--The fact that one of
+them has a wife! That's not my way of putting it; it's the way it was
+put to me by one of Lady Astrupp's party."
+
+Again Eve looked up. The doubt and question in her eyes had grown
+unmistakably. As he ceased to speak her lips parted quickly.
+
+"John," she said, with sudden conviction, "you're trying to say
+something--something that's terribly hard."
+
+Without raising his head, Loder answered her. "Yes," he answered, "the
+hardest thing a man ever said--"
+
+His tone was short, almost brusque, but to ears sharpened by instinct
+it was eloquent. Without a word Eve took a step forward, and, standing
+quite close to him, laid both hands on his shoulders.
+
+For a space they stood silent, she with her face lifted, he with averted
+eyes. Then very gently he raised his hands and tried to unclasp her
+fingers. There was scarcely any color visible in his face, and by a
+curious effect of emotion it seemed that lines, never before noticeable,
+had formed about his mouth.
+
+"What is it?" Eve asked, apprehensively. "What is it?"
+
+By a swift, involuntary movement she had tightened the pressure of
+her fingers; and, without using force, it was impossible for Loder to
+unloose them. With his hands pressed irresolutely over hers, he looked
+down into her face.
+
+"As I sat in the theatre to-night, Eve," he said, slowly, "all the
+pictures I had formed of life shifted. Without desiring it, without
+knowing it, my whole point of view was changed. I suddenly saw things
+by the world's search-light instead of by my own miserable candle. I
+suddenly saw things for you--instead of for myself."
+
+Eve's eyes widened and darkened, but she said nothing.
+
+"I suddenly saw the unpardonable wrong that I have done you--the
+imperative duty of cutting it short." He spoke very slowly, in a dull,
+mechanical voice.
+
+Eve--her eyes still wide, her face pained and alarmed--withdrew her
+hands from his shoulders. "You mean," she said, with difficulty,
+"that it is going to end? That you are going away? That you are giving
+everything up? Oh, but you can't! You can't!" she exclaimed, with sudden
+excitement, her fears suddenly overmastering her incredulity. "You
+can't! You mustn't! The only proof that could have interfered--"
+
+"I wasn't thinking of the proof."
+
+"Then of what? Of what?"
+
+Loder was silent for a moment. "Of our love," he said, steadily.
+
+She colored deeply. "But why?" she stammered; "why? We have done no
+wrong. We need do no wrong. We would be friends--nothing more; and
+I--oh, I so need a friend!"
+
+For almost the first time in Loder's knowledge of her, her voice broke,
+her control deserted her. She stood before him in all the pathos of her
+lonely girlhood--her empty life.
+
+The revelation touched him with sudden poignancy; the real strength that
+lay beneath his faults, the chivalry buried under years of callousness,
+stirred at the birth of a new emotion. The resolution preserved at such
+a cost, the sacrifice that had seemed wellnigh impossible, all at once
+took on a different shape. What before had been a barren duty became
+suddenly a sacred right. Holding out his arms, he drew her to him as if
+she had been a child.
+
+"Eve," he said, gently, "I have learned to-night how fully a woman's
+life is at the mercy of the world--and how scanty that mercy is. If
+circumstances had been different, I believe--I am convinced--I would
+have made you a good husband--would have used my right to protect you as
+well as a man could use it. And now that things are different, I want--I
+should like--" He hesitated a very little. "Now that I have no right
+to protect you--except the right my love gives--I want to guard you as
+closely from all that is sordid as any husband could guard his wife.
+
+"In life there are really only two broad issues--right and wrong.
+Whatever we may say, whatever we may profess to believe, we know that
+our action is always a choice between right and wrong. A month ago--a
+week ago--I would have despised a man who could talk like this--and have
+thought myself strong for despising him. Now I know that strength
+is something more than the trampling of others into the dust that we
+ourselves may have a clear road; that it is something much harder
+and much less triumphant than that--that it is standing aside to let
+somebody else pass on. Eve," he exclaimed, suddenly, "I'm trying to do
+this for you. Don't you see? Don't you understand? The easy course, the
+happy course, would be to let things drift. Every instinct is calling to
+me to take that course--to go on as I have gone, trading on Chilcote's
+weakness and your generosity. But I won't do it! I can't do it!" With a
+swift impulse he loosed his arms and held her away from him. "Eve, it's
+the first time I have put another human being before myself!"
+
+Eve kept her head bent. Painful, inaudible sobs were shaking her from
+head to foot.
+
+"It's something in you--something unconscious--something high and fine,
+that holds me back--that literally bars the way. Eve, can't you see that
+I'm fighting--fighting hard?"
+
+After he had spoken there was silence--a long, painful silence--during
+which Eve waged the battle that so many of her sex have waged before;
+the battle in which words are useless and tears of no account. She
+looked very slight, very young, very forlorn, as she stood there. Then,
+in the oppressive sense of waiting that filled the whole room, she
+looked up at him.
+
+Her face was stained with tears, her thick, black lashes were still wet
+with them; but her expression, as her eyes met Loder's, was a strange
+example of the courage, the firmness, the power of sacrifice that may be
+hidden in a fragile vessel.
+
+She said nothing, for in such a moment words do not come easily, but
+with the simplest, most submissive, most eloquent gesture in the world
+she set his perplexity to rest.
+
+Taking his hand between hers, she lifted it and for a long, silent space
+held it against her lips.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+
+For a while there was silence; then Loder, bitterly aware that he had
+conquered, poignantly conscious of the appeal that Eve's attitude made,
+found further endurance impossible. Gently freeing his hand, he moved
+away from her to the fireplace, taking up the position that she had
+first occupied.
+
+"Eve," he said, slowly, "I haven't finished yet. I haven't said
+everything. I'm going to tax your courage further."
+
+With a touch of pained alarm, Eve lifted her head. "Further?" she said.
+
+Loder shrank from the expression on her face. "Yes," he said, with
+difficulty. "There's still another point to be faced. The matter doesn't
+end with my going back. To have the situation fully saved, Chilcote must
+return--Chilcote must be brought to realize his responsibilities."
+
+Eve's lips parted in dumb dismay.
+
+"It must be done," he went on hurriedly, "and we have got to do it--you
+and I." He turned and looked at her.
+
+"I? I could do nothing. What could I do?" Her voice failed.
+
+"Everything," he said, "you could do everything. He is morally weak, but
+he has one sensitive point--the fear of a public exposure. Once make
+it plain to him that you know his secret, and you can compel him to
+whatever course of action you select. It was to ask you to do this--to
+beg you to do this--that I came to you to-night. I know that it's
+demanding more than a woman's resolution--more than a woman's strength.
+But you are like no woman in the world!
+
+"Eve!" he cried, with sudden vehemence, "can't you see that it's
+imperative--the one thing to save us both?"
+
+He stopped abruptly as he had begun, and again a painful silence filled
+the room. Then, as before, Eve moved instinctively towards him, but this
+time her steps were slow and uncertain. Nearing his side, she put out
+her hand as if for comfort and support; and, feeling his fingers tighten
+round it, stood for a moment resting in the contact.
+
+"I understand," she said at last, very slowly. "I understand. When will
+you take me to him?"
+
+For a moment Loder said nothing, not daring to trust his voice; then
+he answered, low and abruptly. "Now!" he said. "Now, at once! Now, this
+moment, if I may. And--and remember that I know what it costs you."
+As if imbued with fear that his courage might fail him, he suddenly
+released her hand, and, crossing the room to where a long, dark cloak
+lay as she had thrown it on her return home, he picked it up, walked
+to her side, and silently wrapped it about her. Then, still acting
+automatically, he moved to the door, opened it, and stood aside while
+she passed out into the corridor.
+
+In complete silence they descended the stairs and passed to the hall
+door. There Crapham, who had returned to his duties since Loder's
+entrance, came quickly forward with an offer of service.
+
+But Loder dismissed him curtly; and with something of the confusion bred
+of Chilcote's regime, the man drew back towards the staircase.
+
+With a hasty movement Loder stepped forward, and, opening the door,
+admitted a breath of chill air. Then on the threshold he paused. It was
+his first sign of hesitation--the one instant in which nature rebelled
+against the conscience so tardily awakened. He stood motionless for
+a moment, and it is doubtful whether even Eve fully fathomed the
+bitterness of his renunciation--the blackness of the night that
+stretched before his eyes.
+
+Behind him was everything; before him, nothing. The everything
+symbolized by the luxurious house, the eagerly attentive servants, the
+pleasant atmosphere of responsibility; the nothing represented by the
+broad public thoroughfare, the passing figures, each unconscious of
+and uninterested in his existence. As an interloper he had entered this
+house; as an interloper--a masquerader--he had played his part, lived
+his hour, proved himself; as an interloper he was now passing back into
+the dim world of unrealized hopes and unachieved ambitions.
+
+He stood rigidly quiet, his strong figure silhouetted against the
+lighted hall, his face cold and set; then, with a touch of fatality,
+Chance cut short his struggle.
+
+An empty hansom wheeled round the corner of the square; the cabman,
+seeing him, raised his whip in query, and involuntarily he nodded an
+acquiescence. A moment later he had helped Eve into the cab.
+
+"Middle Temple Lane!" he directed, pausing on the step.
+
+"Middle Temple Lane is opposite to Clifford's Inn," he explained as he
+took his place beside her. "When we get out there we have only to cross
+Fleet Street."
+
+Eve bent her head in token that she understood, and the cab moved out
+into the roadway.
+
+Within a few minutes the neighborhood of Grosvenor Square was exchanged
+for the noisier and more crowded one of Piccadilly, but either the
+cabman was overcautious or the horse was below the average, for they
+made but slow progress through the more crowded streets. To the two
+sitting in silence the pace was wellnigh unbearable. With every added
+movement the tension grew. The methodical care with which they
+moved seemed like the tightening of a string already strained to
+breaking-point, yet neither spoke--because neither had the courage
+necessary for words.
+
+Once or twice as they traversed the Strand, Loder made a movement as
+if to break the silence, but nothing followed it. He continued to lean
+forward with a certain dogged stiffness, his clasped hands resting on
+the doors of the cab, his eyes staring straight ahead. Not once, as they
+threaded their way, did he dare to glance at Eve, though every movement,
+every stir of her garments, was forced upon his consciousness by his
+acutely awakened senses.
+
+When at last they drew up before the dark archway of Middle Temple Lane,
+he descended hastily. And as he mechanically turned to protect Eve's
+dress from the wheel, he looked at her fully for the first time since
+their enterprise had been undertaken. As he looked he felt his heart
+sink. He had expected to see the marks of suffering on her face, but the
+expression he saw suggested something more than mere mental pain.
+
+All the rich color that usually deepened and softened the charm of her
+beauty had been erased as if by a long illness; and against the new
+pallor of her skin her blue eyes, her black hair and eyebrows, seemed
+startlingly dark. A chill colder than remorse, a chill that bordered
+upon actual fear, touched Loder in that moment. With the first impulsive
+gesture he had allowed himself, he touched her arm.
+
+"Eve--" he began, unsteadily; then the word died off his lips.
+
+Without a sound, almost without a movement, she returned his glance,
+and something in her eyes checked what he might have said. In that
+one expressive look he understood all she had desired, all she had
+renounced--the full extent of the ordeal she had consented to, and the
+motive that had compelled her consent. He drew back with the heavy sense
+that repentance and pity were equally futile--equally out of place.
+
+Still in silence she stepped to the pavement and stood aside while
+Loder dismissed the cab. To both there was something symbolic, something
+prophetic, in the dismissal. Without intention and almost unconsciously
+they drew closer together as the horse turned, its hoofs clattering on
+the roadway, its harness jingling; and, still without realization,
+they looked after the vehicle as it moved away down the long, shadowed
+thoroughfare towards the lights and the crowds that they had left. At
+last involuntarily they turned towards each other.
+
+"Come!" Loder said, abruptly. "It's only across the road."
+
+Fleet Street is generally very quiet, once midnight is passed; and Eve
+had no need of guidance or protection as they crossed the pavement,
+shining like ice in the lamplight. They crossed it slowly, walking
+apart; for the dread of physical contact that had possessed them in the
+cab seemed to have fallen on them again.
+
+Inquisitiveness has little place in the region of the city, and they
+gained the opposite footpath unnoticed by the casual passer-by. Then,
+still holding apart, they reached and entered Clifford's Inn.
+
+Inside the entrance they paused, and Eve shivered involuntarily. "How
+gray it is!" she said, faintly. "And how cold! Like a graveyard."
+
+Loder turned to her. Far one moment control seemed shaken; his blood
+surged, his vision clouded; the sense that life and love were still
+within his reach filled him overwhelmingly. He turned towards Eve; he
+half extended his hands. Then, stirred by what impulse, moved by what
+instinct, it was impossible to say, he let them drop to his sides again.
+
+"Come!" he said. "Come! This is the way. Keep close to me. Put your hand
+on my arm."
+
+He spoke quietly, but his eyes were resolutely averted from her face as
+they crossed the dim, silent court.
+
+Entering the gloomy door-way that led to his own rooms, he felt her
+fingers tremble on his arm, then tighten in their pressure as the bare
+passage and cheerless stairs met her view; but he set his lips.
+
+"Come!" he repeated, in the same strained voice. "Come! It isn't
+far--three or four flights."
+
+With a white face and a curious expression in her eyes, Eve moved
+forward. She had released Loder's arm as they crossed the hall; and
+now, reaching the stairs, she put out her hand gropingly and caught the
+banister. She had a pained, numb sense of submission--of suffering that
+had sunk to apathy. Moving forward without resistance, she began to
+mount the stairs.
+
+The ascent was made in silence. Loder went first, his shoulders braced,
+his head held erect; Eve, mechanically watchful of all his movements,
+followed a step or two behind. With weary monotony one flight of
+stairs succeeded another; each, to her unaccustomed eyes, seeming more
+colorless, more solitary, more desolate than the preceding one.
+
+Then at last, with a sinking sense of apprehension, she realized that
+their goal was reached.
+
+The knowledge broke sharply through her dulled senses; and, confronted
+by the closeness of her ordeal, she paused, her head lifted, her hand
+still nervously grasping the banister. Her lips parted as if in sudden
+demand for aid; but in the nervous expectation, the pained apprehension,
+of the moment no sound escaped them. Loder, resolutely crossing the
+landing, knew nothing of the silent appeal.
+
+For a second she stood hesitating; then her own weakness, her own
+shrinking dismay, were submerged in the interest of his movements.
+Slowly mounting the remaining steps, she followed him as if fascinated
+towards the door that showed dingily conspicuous in the light of an
+unshaded gas-jet.
+
+Almost at the moment that she reached his side he extended his hand
+towards the door. The action was decisive and hurried, as though he
+feared to trust himself.
+
+For a space he fumbled with the lock. And Eve, standing close behind
+him, heard the handle creak and turn under his pressure. Then he shook
+the door.
+
+At last, slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned round. "I'm afraid things
+aren't quite quite right," he said, in a low voice. "The door is locked
+and I can see no light."
+
+She raised her eyes quickly. "But you have a key?" she whispered.
+"Haven't you got a key?" It was obvious that, to both, the unexpected
+check to their designs was fraught with danger.
+
+"Yes, but--" He looked towards the door. "Yes--I have a key. Yes, you're
+right!" he added, quickly. "I'll use it. Wait, while I go inside."
+
+Filled with a new nervousness, oppressed by the loneliness, the silence
+about her, Eve drew back obediently. The sense of mystery conveyed by
+the closed door weighed upon her. Her susceptibilities were tensely
+alert as she watched Loder search for his key and insert it in the lock.
+With mingled dread and curiosity she saw the door yield, and gape
+open like a black gash in the dingy wall; and with a sudden sense of
+desertion she saw him pass through the aperture and heard him strike a
+match.
+
+The wait that followed seemed extraordinarily long. Listening intently,
+she heard him move softly from one room to the other. And at last,
+to her acutely nervous susceptibilities, it seemed that he paused in
+absolute silence. In the intensity of listening, she heard her own
+faint, irregular breathing, and the sound filled her with panic.
+The quiet, the solitude, the vague, instinctive apprehension, became
+suddenly unendurable. Then all at once the tension was relieved.. Loder
+reappeared.
+
+He paused for a second in the shadowy door-way; then he turned
+unsteadily, drew the door to, and locked; it.
+
+Eve stepped forward. Her glimpse of him had been momentary--and she had
+not heard his voice--yet the consciousness of his bearing filled her
+with instinctive alarm. Abruptly, and without reason, their hands turned
+cold, her heart began to beat violently. "John--" she said below her
+breath.
+
+For answer, he moved towards her. His face was bereft of color; there
+was a look of consternation in his eyes. "Come!" he said. "Come at once!
+I must take you home." He spoke in a shaken, uneven voice.
+
+Eve, looking up at him, caught his hand. "Why? Why?" she questioned. Her
+tone was low and scared.
+
+Without replying, he drew her imperatively towards the stairs. "Go very
+softly," he commanded. "No one must see you here."
+
+In the first moment she obeyed him instinctively; then, reaching the
+head of the stairs, she stopped. With one hand still clasping his,
+the other clinging nervously to the banister, she refused to descend.
+"John," she whispered, "I'm not a child. What is it? What has happened?
+I must know."
+
+For a moment Loder looked at her uncertainly; then, reading the
+expression in her eyes, he yielded to her demand.
+
+"He's dead," he said, in a very low voice. "Chilcote is dead."
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+
+To fully appreciate a great announcement we must have time at our
+disposal. At the moment of Loder's disclosure time was denied to
+Eve; for scarcely had the words left his lips before the thought that
+dominated him asserted its prior claim. Blind to the incredulity in her
+eyes, he drew her swiftly forward, and--half impelling, half supporting
+her--forced her to descend the stairs.
+
+Never in after-life could he obliterate the remembrance of that descent.
+Fear, such as he could never experience in his own concerns, possessed
+him. One desire overrode all others--the desire that Eve's reputation,
+which he himself had so nearly imperilled, should remain unimperilled.
+In the shadow of that urgent duty, the despair of the past hours, the
+appalling fact so lately realized, the future with its possible trials,
+became dark to his imagination. In his new victory over self, the
+question of her protection predominated.
+
+Moving under this compulsion, he guided her hastily and silently down
+the deserted stairs, drawing a breath of deep relief as, one after
+another, the landings were successively passed; and still actuated by
+the suppressed need of haste, he passed through the door-way that they
+had entered under such different conditions only a few minutes before.
+
+To leave the quiet court, to gain the Strand, to hail a belated hansom
+was the work of a moment. By an odd contrivance of circumstance, the
+luck that had attended every phase of his dual life was again exerted in
+his behalf. No one had noticed their entry into Clifford's Inn; no one
+was moved to curiosity by their exit. With an involuntary thrill of
+feeling he gave expression to his relief.
+
+"Thank God, it's over!" he said, as a cab drew up. "You don't know what
+the strain has been."
+
+Moving as if in a dream, Eve stepped into the cab. As yet the terrible
+denouement to their enterprise had made no clear impression upon
+her mind. For the moment all that she was conscious of, all that she
+instinctively acknowledged, was the fact that Loder was still beside
+her.
+
+In quiet obedience she took her place, drawing aside her skirts to
+make room for him; and in the same subdued manner, he stepped into the
+vehicle. Then, with the strange sensation of reliving their earlier
+drive, they were aware of the tightened rein and of the horse's first
+forward movement.
+
+For several seconds neither spoke. Eve, shutting out all other thoughts,
+sat close to Loder, clinging tenaciously to the momentary comforting
+sense of protection; Loder, striving to marshal his ideas, hesitated
+before the ordeal of speech. At last, realizing his responsibility, he
+turned to her slowly.
+
+"Eve," he said, in a low voice and with some hesitation, "I want you
+to know that in all this--from the moment I saw him--from the moment I
+understood--I have had you in my thoughts--you and no one else."
+
+She raised her eyes to his face.
+
+"Do you realize--?" he began afresh. "Do you know what this--this thing
+means?"
+
+Still she remained silent.
+
+"It means that after to-night there will be no such person in London as
+John Loder. To-morrow the man who was known by that name will be
+found in his rooms; his body will be removed, and at the post-modern
+examination it will be stated that he died of an overdose of morphia.
+His charwoman will identify him as a solitary man who lived respectably
+for years and then suddenly went down-hill with remarkable speed. It
+will be quite a common case. Nothing of interest will be found in his
+rooms; no relation will claim his body; after the usual time he will
+be given the usual burial of his class. These details are horrible; but
+there are times when we must look at the horrible side of life--because
+life is incomplete without it.
+
+"These things I speak of are the things that will meet the casual eye;
+but in our sight they will have a very different meaning.
+
+"Eve," he said, more vehemently, "a whole chapter in my life has been
+closed to-night, and my first instinct is to shut the book and throw it
+away. But I'm thinking of you. Remember, I'm thinking of you! Whatever
+the trial, whatever the difficulty, no harm shall come to you. You have
+my word for that!
+
+"I'll return with you now to Grosvenor Square; I'll remain there till a
+reasonable excuse can be given for Chilcote's going abroad; I will
+avoid Fraide, I will cut politics--whatever the cost; then, at the first
+reasonable moment, I will do what I would do now, to-night if it were
+possible. I'll go away, start afresh; do in another country what I have
+done in this."
+
+There was a long silence; then Eve turned to him. The apathy of a
+moment before had left her face. "In another country?" she repeated. "In
+another country?"
+
+"Yes; a fresh career in a fresh country. Something clean to offer you.
+I'm not too old to do what other men have done."
+
+He paused, and for a moment Eve looked ahead at the gleaming chain of
+lamps; then, still very slowly, she brought her glance back again. "No,"
+she said very slowly. "You are not too old. But there are times when
+age--and things like age--are not the real consideration. It seems to me
+that your own inclination, your own individual sense of right and wrong,
+has nothing to do with the present moment. The question is whether you
+are justified in going away"--she paused, her eyes fixed steadily upon
+his--"whether you are free to go away, and make a new life--whether
+it is ever justifiable to follow a phantom light when--when there's a
+lantern waiting to be carried." Her breath caught; she drew away from
+him, frightened and elated by her own words.
+
+Loder turned to her sharply. "Eve!" he exclaimed; then his tone changed.
+"You don't know what you're saying," he added, quickly; "you don't
+understand what you're saying."
+
+Eve leaned forward again. "Yes," she said, slowly, "I do understand."
+Her voice was controlled, her manner convinced. She was no longer the
+girl conquered by strength greater than her own: she was the woman
+strenuously demanding her right to individual happiness.
+
+"I understand it all," she repeated. "I understand every point. It was
+not Chance that made you change your identity, that made you care for
+me, that brought about--his death. I don't believe it was Chance; I
+believe it was something much higher. You are not meant to go away!"
+
+As Loder watched her the remembrance of his first days as Chilcote rose
+again; the remembrance of how he had been dimly filled with the belief
+that below her self-possession lay a strength--a depth--uncommon
+in woman. As he studied her now, the instinctive belief flamed into
+conviction. "Eve!" he said involuntarily.
+
+With a quick gesture she raised her head. "No!" she exclaimed. "No;
+don't say anything! You are going to see things as I see them--you must
+do so--you have no choice. No real man ever casts away the substance for
+the shadow!" Her eyes shone--the color, the glow, the vitality, rushed
+back into her face.
+
+"John," she said, softly, "I love you--and I need you--but there is
+something with a greater claim--a greater need than mine. Don't you know
+what it is?"
+
+He said nothing; he made no gesture.
+
+"It is the party--the country. You may put love aside, but duty is
+different. You have pledged yourself. You are not meant to draw back."
+
+Loder's lips parted.
+
+"Don't!" she said again. "Don't say anything! I know all that is in your
+mind. But, when we sift things right through, it isn't my love--or our
+happiness--that's really in the balance. It is your future!"
+
+Her voice thrilled. "You are going to be a great man, and a great man is
+the property of his country. He has no right to individual action."
+
+Again Loder made an effort to speak, but again she checked him.
+
+"Wait!" she exclaimed. "Wait! You believe you have acted wrongly, and
+you are desperately afraid of acting wrongly again. But is it really
+truer, more loyal for us to work out a long probation in grooves that
+are already overfilled than to marry quietly abroad and fill the places
+that have need of us? That is the question I want you to answer. Is it
+really truer and nobler? Oh, I see the doubt that is in your mind! You
+think it finer to go away and make a new life than to live the life that
+is waiting you--because one is independent and the other means the use
+of another man's name and another man's money--that is the thought in
+your mind. But what is it that prompts that thought?" Again her voice
+caught, but her eyes did not falter. "I will tell you. It is not
+self-sacrifice--but pride!" She said the word fearlessly.
+
+A flush crossed Loder's face. "A man requires pride," he said in a low
+voice.
+
+"Yes, at the right time. But is this the right time? Is it ever right
+to throw away the substance for the shadow? You say that I don't
+understand--don't realize. I realize more to-night than I have realized
+in all my life. I know that you have an opportunity that can never come
+again--and that it's terribly possible to let it slip--"
+
+She paused. Loder, his hands resting on the closed doors of the cab, sat
+very silent, with averted eyes and bent head.
+
+"Only to-night," she went on, "you told me that everything was crying
+to you to take the easy, pleasant way. Then it was strong to turn aside;
+but now it is not strong. It is far nobler to fill an empty niche than
+to carve one for yourself. John--" She suddenly leaned forward, laying
+her hands over his. "Mr. Fraide told me to-night that in his new
+ministry my--my husband was to be Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs!"
+
+The words fell softly. So softly that to ears less comprehending than
+Loder's their significance might have been lost--as his rigid attitude
+and unresponsive manner might have conveyed lack of understanding to any
+eyes less observant than Eve's.
+
+For a long space there was no word spoken. At last, with a very gentle
+pressure, her fingers tightened over his hands.
+
+"John--" she began, gently. But the word died away. She drew back into
+her seat, as the cab stopped before Chilcote's house.
+
+Simultaneously as they descended, the hall door was opened and a flood
+of warm light poured out reassuringly into the darkness.
+
+"I thought it was your cab, sir," Crapham explained deferentially as
+they passed into the hall. "Mr. Fraide has been waiting to see you this
+half-hour. I showed him into the study." He closed the door; softly and
+retired.
+
+Then, in the warm light, amid the gravely dignified surroundings that
+had marked his first entry into this hazardous second existence, Eve
+turned to Loder for the verdict upon which the future hung.
+
+As she turned, his face was still hidden from her, and his attitude
+betrayed nothing.
+
+"John," she said, slowly, "you know why he is here.' You know that he
+has come to personally offer you this place; to personally receive your
+refusal--or consent."
+
+She ceased to speak; there was a moment of suspense; then Loder turned.
+His face was still pale and grave with the gravity of a man who has
+but recently been close to death, but beneath the gravity was another
+look--the old expression of strength and self-reliance, tempered,
+raised, and dignified by a new humility.
+
+Moving forward, he held out his hands.
+
+"My consent or refusal," he said, very quietly, "lies with--my wife."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Masquerader, by Katherine Cecil Thurston
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