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diff --git a/old/ltngg10.txt b/old/ltngg10.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9a057e3..0000000 --- a/old/ltngg10.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10300 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Nugget, by P.G. Wodehouse -#8 in our series by P.G. Wodehouse - -Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. - -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. - -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** - - -Title: The Little Nugget - -Author: P.G. Wodehouse - -Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6683] -[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] -[This file was first posted on January 12, 2003] -[Date last updated: February 27, 2005] - -Edition: 10 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE NUGGET *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Tom Allen, Charles Franks -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - - - - - - - - - - -THE LITTLE NUGGET - - - -By P. G. Wodehouse - - - - - - -Part One - - -In which the Little Nugget is introduced to the reader, and plans -are made for his future by several interested parties. In which, -also, the future Mr Peter Burns is touched upon. The whole concluding -with a momentous telephone-call. - - - -THE LITTLE NUGGET - - - - -I - - -If the management of the Hotel Guelph, that London landmark, could -have been present at three o'clock one afternoon in early January -in the sitting-room of the suite which they had assigned to Mrs -Elmer Ford, late of New York, they might well have felt a little -aggrieved. Philosophers among them would possibly have meditated -on the limitations of human effort; for they had done their best -for Mrs Ford. They had housed her well. They had fed her well. -They had caused inspired servants to anticipate her every need. -Yet here she was, in the midst of all these aids to a contented -mind, exhibiting a restlessness and impatience of her surroundings -that would have been noticeable in a caged tigress or a prisoner -of the Bastille. She paced the room. She sat down, picked up a -novel, dropped it, and, rising, resumed her patrol. The clock -striking, she compared it with her watch, which she had consulted -two minutes before. She opened the locket that hung by a gold -chain from her neck, looked at its contents, and sighed. Finally, -going quickly into the bedroom, she took from a suit-case a framed -oil-painting, and returning with it to the sitting-room, placed it -on a chair, and stepped back, gazing at it hungrily. Her large -brown eyes, normally hard and imperious, were strangely softened. -Her mouth quivered. - -'Ogden!' she whispered. - -The picture which had inspired this exhibition of feeling would -probably not have affected the casual spectator to quite the same -degree. He would have seen merely a very faulty and amateurish -portrait of a singularly repellent little boy of about eleven, who -stared out from the canvas with an expression half stolid, half -querulous; a bulgy, overfed little boy; a little boy who looked -exactly what he was, the spoiled child of parents who had far more -money than was good for them. - -As Mrs Ford gazed at the picture, and the picture stared back at -her, the telephone bell rang. She ran to it eagerly. It was the -office of the hotel, announcing a caller. - -'Yes? Yes? Who?' Her voice fell, as if the name was not the one -she had expected. 'Oh, yes,' she said. 'Yes, ask Lord Mountry to -come to me here, please.' - -She returned to the portrait. The look of impatience, which had -left her face as the bell sounded, was back now. She suppressed it -with an effort as her visitor entered. - -Lord Mountry was a blond, pink-faced, fair-moustached young man of -about twenty-eight--a thick-set, solemn young man. He winced as he -caught sight of the picture, which fixed him with a stony eye -immediately on his entry, and quickly looked away. - -'I say, it's all right, Mrs Ford.' He was of the type which wastes -no time on preliminary greetings. 'I've got him.' - -'Got him!' - -Mrs Ford's voice was startled. - -'Stanborough, you know.' - -'Oh! I--I was thinking of something else. Won't you sit down?' - -Lord Mountry sat down. - -'The artist, you know. You remember you said at lunch the other -day you wanted your little boy's portrait painted, as you only had -one of him, aged eleven--' - -'This is Ogden, Lord Mountry. I painted this myself.' - -His lordship, who had selected a chair that enabled him to present -a shoulder to the painting, and was wearing a slightly dogged look -suggestive of one who 'turns no more his head, because he knows a -frightful fiend doth close behind him tread', forced himself -round, and met his gaze with as much nonchalance as he could -summon up. - -'Er, yes,' he said. - -He paused. - -'Fine manly little fellow--what?' he continued. - -'Yes, isn't he?' - -His lordship stealthily resumed his former position. - -'I recommended this fellow, Stanborough, if you remember. He's a -great pal of mine, and I'd like to give him a leg up if I could. -They tell me he's a topping artist. Don't know much about it -myself. You told me to bring him round here this afternoon, you -remember, to talk things over. He's waiting downstairs.' - -'Oh yes, yes. Of course, I've not forgotten. Thank you so much, -Lord Mountry.' - -'Rather a good scheme occurred to me, that is, if you haven't -thought over the idea of that trip on my yacht and decided it -would bore you to death. You still feel like making one of the -party--what?' - -Mrs Ford shot a swift glance at the clock. - -'I'm looking forward to it,' she said. - -'Well, then, why shouldn't we kill two birds with one stone? -Combine the voyage and the portrait, don't you know. You could -bring your little boy along--he'd love the trip--and I'd bring -Stanborough--what?' - -This offer was not the outcome of a sudden spasm of warm-heartedness -on his lordship's part. He had pondered the matter deeply, and had -come to the conclusion that, though it had flaws, it was the best -plan. He was alive to the fact that a small boy was not an absolute -essential to the success of a yachting trip, and, since seeing -Ogden's portrait, he had realized still more clearly that the -scheme had draw-backs. But he badly wanted Stanborough to make -one of the party. Whatever Ogden might be, there was no doubt that -Billy Stanborough, that fellow of infinite jest, was the ideal -companion for a voyage. It would make just all the difference having -him. The trouble was that Stanborough flatly refused to take an -indefinite holiday, on the plea that he could not afford the time. -Upon which his lordship, seldom blessed with great ideas, had surprised -himself by producing the scheme he had just sketched out to Mrs Ford. - -He looked at her expectantly, as he finished speaking, and was -surprised to see a swift cloud of distress pass over her face. He -rapidly reviewed his last speech. No, nothing to upset anyone in -that. He was puzzled. - -She looked past him at the portrait. There was pain in her eyes. - -'I'm afraid you don't quite understand the position of affairs,' -she said. Her voice was harsh and strained. - -'Eh?' - -'You see--I have not--' She stopped. 'My little boy is not--Ogden -is not living with me just now.' - -'At school, eh?' - -'No, not at school. Let me tell you the whole position. Mr Ford -and I did not get on very well together, and a year ago we were -divorced in Washington, on the ground of incompatibility, -and--and--' - -She choked. His lordship, a young man with a shrinking horror of -the deeper emotions, whether exhibited in woman or man, writhed -silently. That was the worst of these Americans! Always getting -divorced and causing unpleasantness. How was a fellow to know? Why -hadn't whoever it was who first introduced them--he couldn't -remember who the dickens it was--told him about this? He had -supposed she was just the ordinary American woman doing Europe -with an affectionate dollar-dispensing husband in the background -somewhere. - -'Er--' he said. It was all he could find to say. - -'And--and the court,' said Mrs Ford, between her teeth, 'gave him -the custody of Ogden.' - -Lord Mountry, pink with embarrassment, gurgled sympathetically. - -'Since then I have not seen Ogden. That was why I was interested -when you mentioned your friend Mr Stanborough. It struck me that -Mr Ford could hardly object to my having a portrait of my son -painted at my own expense. Nor do I suppose that he will, when--if -the matter is put to him. But, well, you see it would be premature -to make any arrangements at present for having the picture painted -on our yacht trip.' - -'I'm afraid it knocks that scheme on the head,' said Lord Mountry -mournfully. - -'Not necessarily.' - -'Eh?' - -'I don't want to make plans yet, but--it is possible that Ogden -may be with us after all. Something may be--arranged.' - -'You think you may be able to bring him along on the yacht after -all?' - -'I am hoping so.' - -Lord Mountry, however willing to emit sympathetic gurgles, was too -plain and straightforward a young man to approve of wilful -blindness to obvious facts. - -'I don't see how you are going to override the decision of the -court. It holds good in England, I suppose?' - -'I am hoping something may be--arranged.' - -'Oh, same here, same here. Certainly.' Having done his duty by not -allowing plain facts to be ignored, his lordship was ready to -become sympathetic again. 'By the way, where is Ogden?' - -'He is down at Mr Ford's house in the country. But--' - -She was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone bell. She was -out of her seat and across the room at the receiver with what -appeared to Lord Mountry's startled gaze one bound. As she put the -instrument to her ear a wave of joy swept over her face. She gave -a little cry of delight and excitement. - -'Send them right up at once,' she said, and turned to Lord Mountry -transformed. - -'Lord Mountry,' she said quickly, 'please don't think me -impossibly rude if I turn you out. Some--some people are coming to -see me. I must--' - -His lordship rose hurriedly. - -'Of course. Of course. Certainly. Where did I put my--ah, here.' -He seized his hat, and by way of economizing effort, knocked his -stick on to the floor with the same movement. Mrs Ford watched his -bendings and gropings with growing impatience, till finally he -rose, a little flushed but with a full hand--stick, gloves, and -hat, all present and correct. - -'Good-bye, then, Mrs Ford, for the present. You'll let me know if -your little boy will be able to make one of our party on the -yacht?' - -'Yes, yes. Thank you ever so much. Good-bye.' - -'Good-bye.' - -He reached the door and opened it. - -'By Jove,' he said, springing round--'Stanborough! What about -Stanborough? Shall I tell him to wait? He's down below, you know!' - -'Yes, yes. Tell Mr Stanborough I'm dreadfully sorry to have to -keep him waiting, and ask him if he won't stay for a few minutes -in the Palm Room.' - -Inspiration came to Lord Mountry. - -'I'll give him a drink,' he said. - -'Yes, yes, anything. Lord Mountry, you really must go. I know I'm -rude. I don't know what I'm saying. But--my boy is returning to -me.' - -The accumulated chivalry of generations of chivalrous ancestors -acted like a spur on his lordship. He understood but dimly, yet -enough to enable him to realize that a scene was about to take -place in which he was most emphatically not 'on'. A mother's -meeting with her long-lost child, this is a sacred thing. This was -quite clear to him, so, turning like a flash, he bounded through -the doorway, and, as somebody happened to be coming in at the same -time, there was a collision, which left him breathing apologies in -his familiar attitude of stooping to pick up his hat. - -The new-comers were a tall, strikingly handsome girl, with a -rather hard and cynical cast of countenance. She was leading by -the hand a small, fat boy of about fourteen years of age, whose -likeness to the portrait on the chair proclaimed his identity. He -had escaped the collision, but seemed offended by it; for, eyeing -the bending peer with cold distaste, he summed up his opinion of -him in the one word 'Chump!' - -Lord Mountry rose. - -'I beg your pardon,' he said for perhaps the seventh time. He was -thoroughly unstrung. Always excessively shy, he was embarrassed -now by quite a variety of causes. The world was full of eyes--Mrs -Ford's saying 'Go!' Ogden's saying 'Fool!' the portrait saying -'Idiot!' and, finally, the eyes of this wonderfully handsome girl, -large, grey, cool, amused, and contemptuous saying--so it seemed -to him in that feverish moment--'Who is this curious pink person -who cumbers the ground before me?' - -'I--I beg your pardon.' he repeated. - -'Ought to look where you're going,' said Ogden severely. - -'Not at all,' said the girl. 'Won't you introduce me, Nesta?' - -'Lord Mountry--Miss Drassilis,' said Mrs Ford. - -'I'm afraid we're driving Lord Mountry away,' said the girl. Her -eyes seemed to his lordship larger, greyer, cooler, more amused, -and more contemptuous than ever. He floundered in them like an -unskilful swimmer in deep waters. - -'No, no,' he stammered. 'Give you my word. Just going. Good-bye. -You won't forget to let me know about the yacht, Mrs Ford--what? -It'll be an awfully jolly party. Good-bye, good-bye, Miss -Drassilis.' - -He looked at Ogden for an instant, as if undecided whether to take -the liberty of addressing him too, and then, his heart apparently -failing him, turned and bolted. From down the corridor came the -clatter of a dropped stick. - -Cynthia Drassilis closed the door and smiled. - -'A nervous young person!' she said. 'What was he saying about a -yacht, Nesta?' - -Mrs Ford roused herself from her fascinated contemplation of -Ogden. - -'Oh, nothing. Some of us are going to the south of France in his -yacht next week.' - -'What a delightful idea!' - -There was a certain pensive note in Cynthia's voice. - -'A splendid idea!' she murmured. - -Mrs Ford swooped. She descended on Ogden in a swirl and rustle of -expensive millinery, and clasped him to her. - -'My boy!' - -It is not given to everybody to glide neatly into a scene of tense -emotion. Ogden failed to do so. He wriggled roughly from the -embrace. - -'Got a cigarette?' he said. - -He was an extraordinarily unpleasant little boy. Physically the -portrait standing on the chair did him more than justice. Painted -by a mother's loving hand, it flattered him. It was bulgy. He was -more bulgy. It was sullen. He scowled. And, art having its -limitations, particularly amateur art, the portrait gave no hint -of his very repellent manner. He was an intensely sophisticated -child. He had the air of one who has seen all life has to offer, -and is now permanently bored. His speech and bearing were those of -a young man, and a distinctly unlovable young man. - -Even Mrs Ford was momentarily chilled. She laughed shakily. - -'How very matter-of-fact you are, darling!' she said. - -Cynthia was regarding the heir to the Ford millions with her usual -steady, half-contemptuous gaze. - -'He has been that all day,' she said. 'You have no notion what a -help it was to me.' - -Mrs Ford turned to her effusively. - -'Oh, Cynthia, dear, I haven't thanked you.' - -'No,' interpolated the girl dryly. - -'You're a wonder, darling. You really are. I've been repeating -that ever since I got your telegram from Eastnor.' She broke off. -'Ogden, come near me, my little son.' - -He lurched towards her sullenly. - -'Don't muss a fellow now,' he stipulated, before allowing himself -to be enfolded in the outstretched arms. - -'Tell me, Cynthia,' resumed Mrs Ford, 'how did you do it? I was -telling Lord Mountry that I _hoped_ I might see my Ogden again -soon, but I never really hoped. It seemed too impossible that you -should succeed.' - -'This Lord Mountry of yours,' said Cynthia. 'How did you get to -know him? Why have I not seen him before?' - -'I met him in Paris in the fall. He has been out of London for a -long time, looking after his father, who was ill.' - -'I see.' - -'He has been most kind, making arrangements about getting Ogden's -portrait painted. But, bother Lord Mountry. How did we get -sidetracked on to him? Tell me how you got Ogden away.' - -Cynthia yawned. - -'It was extraordinarily easy, as it turned out, you see.' - -'Ogden, darling,' observed Mrs Ford, 'don't go away. I want you -near me.' - -'Oh, all right.' - -'Then stay by me, angel-face.' - -'Oh, slush!' muttered angel-face beneath his breath. 'Say, I'm -darned hungry,' he added. - -It was if an electric shock had been applied to Mrs Ford. She -sprang to her feet. - -'My poor child! Of course you must have some lunch. Ring the bell, -Cynthia. I'll have them send up some here.' - -'I'll have _mine_ here,' said Cynthia. - -'Oh, you've had no lunch either! I was forgetting that.' - -'I thought you were.' - -'You must both lunch here.' - -'Really,' said Cynthia, 'I think it would be better if Ogden had -his downstairs in the restaurant.' - -'Want to talk scandal, eh?' - -'Ogden, _dearest!_' said Mrs Ford. 'Very well, Cynthia. Go, -Ogden. You will order yourself something substantial, marvel-child?' - -'Bet your life,' said the son and heir tersely. - -There was a brief silence as the door closed. Cynthia gazed at her -friend with a peculiar expression. - -'Well, I did it, dear,' she said. - -'Yes. It's splendid. You're a wonder, darling.' - -'Yes,' said Cynthia. - -There was another silence. - -'By the way,' said Mrs Ford, 'didn't you say there was a little -thing, a small bill, that was worrying you?' - -'Did I mention it? Yes, there is. It's rather pressing. In fact, -it's taking up most of the horizon at present. Here it is.' - -'Is it a large sum?' Mrs Ford took the slip of paper and gave a slight -gasp. Then, coming to the bureau, she took out her cheque-book. - -'It's very kind of you, Nesta,' said Cynthia. 'They were beginning -to show quite a vindictive spirit about it.' - -She folded the cheque calmly and put it in her purse. - -'And now tell me how you did it,' said Mrs Ford. - -She dropped into a chair and leaned back, her hands behind her -head. For the first time, she seemed to enjoy perfect peace of -mind. Her eyes half closed, as if she had been making ready to -listen to some favourite music. - -'Tell me from the very beginning,' she said softly. - -Cynthia checked a yawn. - -'Very well, dear,' she said. 'I caught the 10.20 to Eastnor, which -isn't a bad train, if you ever want to go down there. I arrived at -a quarter past twelve, and went straight up to the house--you've -never seen the house, of course? It's quite charming--and told the -butler that I wanted to see Mr Ford on business. I had taken the -precaution to find out that he was not there. He is at Droitwich.' - -'Rheumatism,' murmured Mrs Ford. 'He has it sometimes.' - -'The man told me he was away, and then he seemed to think that I -ought to go. I stuck like a limpet. I sent him to fetch Ogden's -tutor. His name is Broster--Reggie Broster. He is a very nice -young man. Big, broad shoulders, and such a kind face.' - -'Yes, dear, yes?' - -'I told him I was doing a series of drawings for a magazine of the -interiors of well-known country houses.' - -'He believed you?' - -'He believed everything. He's that kind of man. He believed me -when I told him that my editor particularly wanted me to sketch -the staircase. They had told me about the staircase at the inn. I -forget what it is exactly, but it's something rather special in -staircases.' - -'So you got in?' - -'So I got in.' - -'And saw Ogden?' - -'Only for a moment--then Reggie--' - -'Who?' - -'Mr Broster. I always think of him as Reggie. He's one of Nature's -Reggies. _Such_ a kind, honest face. Well, as I was saying, -Reggie discovered that it was time for lessons, and sent Ogden -upstairs.' - -'By himself?' - -'By himself! Reggie and I chatted for a while.' - -Mrs Ford's eyes opened, brown and bright and hard. - -'Mr Broster is not a proper tutor for my boy,' she said coldly. - -'I suppose it was wrong of Reggie,' said Cynthia. 'But--I was -wearing this hat.' - -'Go on.' - -'Well, after a time, I said I must be starting my work. He wanted -me to start with the room we were in. I said no, I was going out -into the grounds to sketch the house from the EAST. I chose the -EAST because it happens to be nearest the railway station. I added -that I supposed he sometimes took Ogden for a little walk in the -grounds. He said yes, he did, and it was just about due. He said -possibly he might come round my way. He said Ogden would be -interested in my sketch. He seemed to think a lot of Ogden's -fondness for art.' - -'Mr Broster is _not_ a proper tutor for my boy.' - -'Well, he isn't your boy's tutor now, is he, dear?' - -'What happened then?' - -'I strolled off with my sketching things. After a while Reggie and -Ogden came up. I said I hadn't been able to work because I had -been frightened by a bull.' - -'Did he believe _that_?' - -'_Certainly_ he believed it. He was most kind and sympathetic. -We had a nice chat. He told me all about himself. He used to be -very good at football. He doesn't play now, but he often thinks of -the past.' - -'But he must have seen that you couldn't sketch. Then what became -of your magazine commission story?' - -'Well, somehow the sketch seemed to get shelved. I didn't even -have to start it. We were having our chat, you see. Reggie was -telling me how good he had been at football when he was at Oxford, -and he wanted me to see a newspaper clipping of a Varsity match he -had played in. I said I'd love to see it. He said it was in his -suit-case in the house. So I promised to look after Ogden while he -fetched it. I sent him off to get it just in time for us to catch -the train. Off he went, and here we are. And now, won't you order -that lunch you mentioned? I'm starving.' - -Mrs Ford rose. Half-way to the telephone she stopped suddenly. - -'My dear child! It has only just struck me! We must leave here at -once. He will have followed you. He will guess that Ogden has been -kidnapped.' - -Cynthia smiled. - -'Believe me, it takes Reggie quite a long time to guess anything. -Besides, there are no trains for hours. We are quite safe.' - -'Are you sure?' - -'Absolutely. I made certain of that before I left.' - -Mrs Ford kissed her impulsively. - -'Oh, Cynthia, you really are wonderful!' - -She started back with a cry as the bell rang sharply. - -'For goodness' sake, Nesta,' said Cynthia, with irritation, 'do -keep control of yourself. There's nothing to be frightened about. -I tell you Mr Broster can't possibly have got here in the time, -even if he knew where to go to, which I don't see how he could. -It's probably Ogden.' - -The colour came back into Mrs Ford's cheeks. - -'Why, of course.' - -Cynthia opened the door. - -'Come in, darling,' said Mrs Ford fondly. And a wiry little man -with grey hair and spectacles entered. - -'Good afternoon, Mrs Ford,' he said. 'I have come to take Ogden -back.' - - - - -II - - -There are some situations in life so unexpected, so trying, that, -as far as concerns our opinion of those subjected to them, we -agree, as it were, not to count them; we refuse to allow the -victim's behaviour in circumstances so exacting to weigh with us -in our estimate of his or her character. We permit the great -general, confronted suddenly with a mad bull, to turn and run, -without forfeiting his reputation for courage. The bishop who, -stepping on a concealed slide in winter, entertains passers-by -with momentary rag-time steps, loses none of his dignity once the -performance is concluded. - -In the same way we must condone the behaviour of Cynthia Drassilis -on opening the door of Mrs Ford's sitting-room and admitting, not -Ogden, but this total stranger, who accompanied his entry with the -remarkable speech recorded at the close of the last section. - -She was a girl who prided herself on her carefully blase' and -supercilious attitude towards life; but this changeling was too -much for her. She released the handle, tottered back, and, having -uttered a discordant squeak of amazement, stood staring, eyes and -mouth wide open. - -On Mrs Ford the apparition had a different effect. The rather -foolish smile of welcome vanished from her face as if wiped away -with a sponge. Her eyes, fixed and frightened like those of a -trapped animal, glared at the intruder. She took a step forward, -choking. - -'What--what do you mean by daring to enter my room?' she cried. - -The man held his ground, unmoved. His bearing was a curious blend -of diffidence and aggressiveness. He was determined, but -apologetic. A hired assassin of the Middle Ages, resolved to do -his job loyally, yet conscious of causing inconvenience to his -victim, might have looked the same. - -'I am sorry,' he said, 'but I must ask you to let me have the boy, -Mrs Ford.' - -Cynthia was herself again now. She raked the intruder with the -cool stare which had so disconcerted Lord Mountry. - -'Who is this gentleman?' she asked languidly. - -The intruder was made of tougher stuff than his lordship. He met -her eye with quiet firmness. - -'My name is Mennick,' he said. 'I am Mr Elmer Ford's private -secretary.' - -'What do you want?' said Mrs Ford. - -'I have already explained what I want, Mrs Ford. I want Ogden.' - -Cynthia raised her eyebrows. - -'What _does_ he mean, Nesta? Ogden is not here.' - -Mr Mennick produced from his breast-pocket a telegraph form, and -in his quiet, business-like way proceeded to straighten it out. - -'I have here,' he said, 'a telegram from Mr Broster, Ogden's -tutor. It was one of the conditions of his engagement that if ever -he was not certain of Ogden's whereabouts he should let me know at -once. He tells me that early this afternoon he left Ogden in the -company of a strange young lady'--Mr Mennick's spectacles flashed -for a moment at Cynthia--'and that, when he returned, both of them -had disappeared. He made inquiries and discovered that this young -lady caught the 1.15 express to London, Ogden with her. On receipt -of this information I at once wired to Mr Ford for instructions. I -have his reply'--he fished for and produced a second telegram--'here.' - -'I still fail to see what brings you here,' said Mrs Ford. 'Owing -to the gross carelessness of his father's employees, my son -appears to have been kidnapped. That is no reason--' - -'I will read Mr Ford's telegram,' proceeded Mr Mennick unmoved. -'It is rather long. I think Mr Ford is somewhat annoyed. "The boy -has obviously been stolen by some hireling of his mother's." I am -reading Mr Ford's actual words,' he said, addressing Cynthia with -that touch of diffidence which had marked his manner since his -entrance. - -'Don't apologize,' said Cynthia, with a short laugh. 'You're not -responsible for Mr Ford's rudeness.' - -Mr Mennick bowed. - -'He continued: "Remove him from her illegal restraint. If -necessary call in police and employ force."' - -'Charming!' said Mrs Ford. - -'Practical,' said Mr Mennick. 'There is more. "Before doing -anything else sack that fool of a tutor, then go to Agency and -have them recommend good private school for boy. On no account -engage another tutor. They make me tired. Fix all this today. Send -Ogden back to Eastnor with Mrs Sheridan. She will stay there with -him till further notice." That is Mr Ford's message.' - -Mr Mennick folded both documents carefully and replaced them in -his pocket. - -Mrs Ford looked at the clock. - -'And now, would you mind going, Mr Mennick?' - -'I am sorry to appear discourteous, Mrs Ford, but I cannot go -without Ogden.' - -'I shall telephone to the office to send up a porter to remove -you.' - -'I shall take advantage of his presence to ask him to fetch a -policeman.' - -In the excitement of combat the veneer of apologetic diffidence -was beginning to wear off Mr Mennick. He spoke irritably. Cynthia -appealed to his reason with the air of a bored princess descending -to argument with a groom. - -'Can't you see for yourself that he's not here?' she said. 'Do you -think we are hiding him?' - -'Perhaps you would like to search my bedroom?' said Mrs Ford, -flinging the door open. - -Mr Mennick remained uncrushed. - -'Quite unnecessary, Mrs Ford. I take it, from the fact that he -does not appear to be in this suite, that he is downstairs making -a late luncheon in the restaurant.' - -'I shall telephone--' - -'And tell them to send him up. Believe me, Mrs Ford, it is the -only thing to do. You have my deepest sympathy, but I am employed -by Mr Ford and must act solely in his interests. The law is on my -side. I am here to fetch Ogden away, and I am going to have him.' - -'You shan't!' - -'I may add that, when I came up here, I left Mrs Sheridan--she is -a fellow-secretary of mine. You may remember Mr Ford mentioning -her in his telegram--I left her to search the restaurant and -grill-room, with instructions to bring Ogden, if found, to me in -this room.' - -The door-bell rang. He went to the door and opened it. - -'Come in, Mrs Sheridan. Ah!' - -A girl in a plain, neat blue dress entered the room. She was a -small, graceful girl of about twenty-five, pretty and brisk, with -the air of one accustomed to look after herself in a difficult -world. Her eyes were clear and steady, her mouth sensitive but -firm, her chin the chin of one who has met trouble and faced it -bravely. A little soldier. - -She was shepherding Ogden before her, a gorged but still sullen -Ogden. He sighted Mr Mennick and stopped. - -'Hello!' he said. 'What have you blown in for?' - -'He was just in the middle of his lunch,' said the girl. 'I -thought you wouldn't mind if I let him finish.' - -'Say, what's it all about, anyway?' demanded Ogden crossly. 'Can't -a fellow have a bit of grub in peace? You give me a pain.' - -Mr Mennick explained. - -'Your father wishes you to return to Eastnor, Ogden.' - -'Oh, all right. I guess I'd better go, then. Good-bye, ma.' - -Mrs Ford choked. - -'Kiss me, Ogden.' - -Ogden submitted to the embrace in sulky silence. The others -comported themselves each after his or her own fashion. Mr Mennick -fingered his chin uncomfortably. Cynthia turned to the table and -picked up an illustrated paper. Mrs Sheridan's eyes filled with -tears. She took a half-step towards Mrs Ford, as if about to -speak, then drew back. - -'Come, Ogden,' said Mr Mennick gruffly. Necessary, this Hired -Assassin work, but painful--devilish painful. He breathed a sigh -of relief as he passed into the corridor with his prize. - -At the door Mrs Sheridan hesitated, stopped, and turned. - -'I'm sorry,' she said impulsively. - -Mrs Ford turned away without speaking, and went into the bedroom. - -Cynthia laid down her paper. - -'One moment, Mrs Sheridan.' - -The girl had turned to go. She stopped. - -'Can you give me a minute? Come in and shut the door. Won't you -sit down? Very well. You seemed sorry for Mrs Ford just now.' - -'I am very sorry for Mrs Ford. Very sorry. I hate to see her -suffering. I wish Mr Mennick had not brought me into this.' - -'Nesta's mad about that boy,' said Cynthia. 'Heaven knows why. -_I_ never saw such a repulsive child in my life. However, -there it is. I am sorry for you. I gathered from what Mr Mennick -said that you were to have a good deal of Ogden's society for some -time to come. How do you feel about it?' - -Mrs Sheridan moved towards the door. - -'I must be going,' she said. 'Mr Mennick will be waiting for me.' - -'One moment. Tell me, don't you think, after what you saw just -now, that Mrs Ford is the proper person to have charge of Ogden? -You see how devoted she is to him?' - -'May I be quite frank with you?' - -'Please.' - -'Well, then, I think that Mrs Ford's influence is the worst -possible for Ogden. I am sorry for her, but that does not alter my -opinion. It is entirely owing to Mrs Ford that Ogden is what he -is. She spoiled him, indulged him in every way, never checked -him--till he has become--well, what you yourself called him, -repulsive.' - -Cynthia laughed. - -'Oh well,' she said, 'I only talked that mother's love stuff -because you looked the sort of girl who would like it. We can drop -all that now, and come down to business.' - -'I don't understand you.' - -'You will. I don't know if you think that I kidnapped Ogden from -sheer affection for Mrs Ford. I like Nesta, but not as much as -that. No. I'm one of the Get-Rich-Quick-Wallingfords, and I'm -looking out for myself all the time. There's no one else to do it -for me. I've a beastly home. My father's dead. My mother's a cat. -So--' - -'Please stop,' said Mrs Sheridan. I don't know why you are telling -me all this.' - -'Yes, you do. I don't know what salary Mr Ford pays you, but I -don't suppose it's anything princely. Why don't you come over to -us? Mrs Ford would give you the earth if you smuggled Ogden back -to her.' - -'You seem to be trying to bribe me,' said Mrs Sheridan. - -'In this case,' said Cynthia, 'appearances aren't deceptive. I -am.' - -'Good afternoon.' - -'Don't be a little fool.' - -The door slammed. - -'Come back!' cried Cynthia. She took a step as if to follow, but -gave up the idea with a laugh. She sat down and began to read her -illustrated paper again. Presently the bedroom door opened. Mrs -Ford came in. She touched her eyes with a handkerchief as she -entered. Cynthia looked up. - -'I'm very sorry, Nesta,' she said. - -Mrs Ford went to the window and looked out. - -'I'm not going to break down, if that's what you mean,' she said. -'I don't care. And, anyhow, it shows that it _can_ be done.' - -Cynthia turned a page of her paper. - -'I've just been trying my hand at bribery and corruption.' - -'What do you mean?' - -'Oh, I promised and vowed many things in your name to that -secretary person, the female one--not Mennick--if she would help -us. Nothing doing. I told her to let us have Ogden as soon as -possible, C.O.D., and she withered me with a glance and went.' - -Mrs Ford shrugged her shoulders impatiently. - -'Oh, let her go. I'm sick of amateurs.' - -'Thank you, dear,' said Cynthia. - -'Oh, I know you did your best. For an amateur you did wonderfully -well. But amateurs never really succeed. There were a dozen little -easy precautions which we neglected to take. What we want is a -professional; a man whose business is kidnapping; the sort of man -who kidnaps as a matter of course; someone like Smooth Sam -Fisher.' - -'My dear Nesta! Who? I don't think I know the gentleman.' - -'He tried to kidnap Ogden in 1906, when we were in New York. At -least, the police put it down to him, though they could prove -nothing. Then there was a horrible man, the police said he was -called Buck MacGinnis. He tried in 1907. That was in Chicago.' - -'Good gracious! Kidnapping Ogden seems to be as popular as -football. And I thought I was a pioneer!' - -Something approaching pride came into Mrs Ford's voice. - -'I don't suppose there's a child in America,' she said, 'who has -had to be so carefully guarded. Why, the kidnappers had a special -name for him--they called him "The Little Nugget". For years we -never allowed him out of our sight without a detective to watch -him.' - -'Well, Mr Ford seems to have changed all that now. I saw no -detectives. I suppose he thinks they aren't necessary in England. -Or perhaps he relied on Mr Broster. Poor Reggie!' - -'It was criminally careless of him. This will be a lesson to him. -He will be more careful in future how he leaves Ogden at the mercy -of anybody who cares to come along and snap him up.' - -'Which, incidentally, does not make your chance of getting him -away any lighter.' - -'Oh, I've given up hope now,' said Mrs Ford resignedly. - -'_I_ haven't,' said Cynthia. - -There was something in her voice which made her companion turn -sharply and look at her. Mrs Ford might affect to be resigned, but -she was a woman of determination, and if the recent reverse had -left her bruised, it had by no means crushed her. - -'Cynthia! What do you mean? What are you hinting?' - -'You despise amateurs, Nesta, but, for all that, it seems that -your professionals who kidnap as a matter of course and all the -rest of it have not been a bit more successful. It was not my want -of experience that made me fail. It was my sex. This is man's -work. If I had been a man, I should at least have had brute force -to fall back upon when Mr Mennick arrived.' - -Mrs Ford nodded. - -'Yes, but--' - -'And,' continued Cynthia, 'as all these Smooth Sam Fishers of -yours have failed too, it is obvious that the only way to kidnap -Ogden is from within. We must have some man working for us in the -enemy's camp.' - -'Which is impossible,' said Mrs Ford dejectedly. - -'Not at all.' - -'You know a man?' - -'I know _the_ man.' - -'Cynthia! What do you mean? Who is he?' - -'His name is Peter Burns.' - -Mrs Ford shook her head. - -'I don't know him.' - -'I'll introduce you. You'll like him.' - -'But, Cynthia, how do you know he would be willing to help us?' - -'He would do it for me,' Cynthia paused. 'You see,' she went on, -'we are engaged to be married.' - -'My dear Cynthia! Why did you not tell me? When did it happen?' - -'Last night at the Fletchers' dance.' - -Mrs Ford's eyes opened. - -'Last night! Were you at a dance last night? And two railway -journeys today! You must be tired to death.' - -'Oh, I'm all right, thanks. I suppose I shall be a wreck and not -fit to be seen tomorrow, but just at present I feel as if nothing -could tire me. It's the effect of being engaged, perhaps.' - -'Tell me about him.' - -'Well, he's rich, and good-looking, and amiable'--Cynthia ticked -off these qualities on her fingers--'and I think he's brave, and -he's certainly not so stupid as Mr Broster.' - -'And you're very much in love with him?' - -'I like him. There's no harm in Peter.' - -'You certainly aren't wildly enthusiastic!' - -'Oh, we shall hit it off quite well together. I needn't pose to -_you_, Nesta, thank goodness! That's one reason why I'm fond -of you. You know how I am situated. I've got to marry some one -rich, and Peter's quite the nicest rich man I've ever met. He's -really wonderfully unselfish. I can't understand it. With his -money, you would expect him to be a perfect horror.' - -A thought seemed to strike Mrs Ford. - -'But, if he's so rich--' she began. 'I forget what I was going to -say,' she broke off. - -'Dear Nesta, I know what you were going to say. If he's so rich, -why should he be marrying me, when he could take his pick of half -London? Well, I'll tell you. He's marrying me for one reason, -because he's sorry for me: for another, because I had the sense to -make him. He didn't think he was going to marry anyone. A few -years ago he had a disappointment. A girl jilted him. She must -have been a fool. He thought he was going to live the rest of his -life alone with his broken heart. I didn't mean to allow that. -It's taken a long time--over two years, from start to finish--but -I've done it. He's a sentimentalist. I worked on his sympathy, and -last night I made him propose to me at the Fletchers' dance.' - -Mrs Ford had not listened to these confidences unmoved. Several -times she had tried to interrupt, but had been brushed aside. Now -she spoke sharply. - -'You know I was not going to say anything of the kind. And I don't -think you should speak in this horrible, cynical way of--of--' - -She stopped, flushing. There were moments when she hated Cynthia. -These occurred for the most part when the latter, as now, stirred -her to an exhibition of honest feeling which she looked on as -rather unbecoming. Mrs Ford had spent twenty years trying to -forget that her husband had married her from behind the counter of -a general store in an Illinois village, and these lapses into the -uncultivated genuineness of her girlhood made her uncomfortable. - -'I wasn't going to say anything of the kind,' she repeated. - -Cynthia was all smiling good-humour. - -'I know. I was only teasing you. "Stringing", they call it in your -country, don't they?' - -Mrs Ford was mollified. - -'I'm sorry, Cynthia. I didn't mean to snap at you. All the -same ...' She hesitated. What she wanted to ask smacked so -dreadfully of Mechanicsville, Illinois. Yet she put the question -bravely, for she was somehow feeling quite troubled about this -unknown Mr Burns. 'Aren't you really fond of him at all, Cynthia?' - -Cynthia beamed. - -'Of course I am! He's a dear. Nothing would make me give him up. -I'm devoted to old Peter. I only told you all that about him -because it shows you how kind-hearted he is. He'll do anything for -me. Well, shall I sound him about Ogden?' - -The magic word took Mrs Ford's mind off the matrimonial future of -Mr Burns, and brought him into prominence in his capacity of -knight-errant. She laughed happily. The contemplation of Mr Burns -as knight-errant healed the sting of defeat. The affair of Mr -Mennick began to appear in the light of a mere skirmish. - -'You take my breath away!' she said. 'How do you propose that Mr -Burns shall help us?' - -'It's perfectly simple. You heard Mr Mennick read that telegram. -Ogden is to be sent to a private school. Peter shall go there -too.' - -'But how? I don't understand. We don't know which school Mr -Mennick will choose.' - -'We can very soon find out.' - -'But how can Mr Burns go there?' - -'Nothing easier. He will be a young man who has been left a little -money and wants to start a school of his own. He goes to Ogden's -man and suggests that he pay a small premium to come to him for a -term as an extra-assistant-master, to learn the business. Mr Man -will jump at him. He will be getting the bargain of his life. -Peter didn't get much of a degree at Oxford, but I believe he was -wonderful at games. From a private-school point of view he's a -treasure.' - -'But--would he do it?' - -'I think I can persuade him.' - -Mrs Ford kissed her with an enthusiasm which hitherto she had -reserved for Ogden. - -'My darling girl,' she cried, 'if you knew how happy you have made -me!' - -'I do,' said Cynthia definitely. 'And now you can do the same for -me.' - -'Anything, anything! You must have some more hats.' - -'I don't want any more hats. I want to go with you on Lord -Mountry's yacht to the Riviera.' - -'Of course,' said Mrs Ford after a slight pause, 'it isn't my -party, you know, dear.' - -'No. But you can work me in, darling.' - -'It's quite a small party. Very quiet.' - -'Crowds bore me. I enjoy quiet.' - -Mrs Ford capitulated. - -'I fancy you are doing me a very good turn,' she said. 'You must -certainly come on the yacht.' - -'I'll tell Peter to come straight round here now,' said Cynthia -simply. She went to the telephone. - - - - - - -Part Two - - -In which other interested parties, notably one Buck MacGinnis and -a trade rival, Smooth Sam Fisher, make other plans for the Nugget's -future. Of stirring times at a private school for young gentlemen. -Of stratagems, spoils, and alarms by night. Of journeys ending in -lovers' meetings. The whole related by Mr Peter Burns, gentleman -of leisure, who forfeits that leisure in a good cause. - - - -Peter Burns's Narrative - - - - -Chapter 1 - - -I - -I am strongly of the opinion that, after the age of twenty-one, a -man ought not to be out of bed and awake at four in the morning. -The hour breeds thought. At twenty-one, life being all future, it -may be examined with impunity. But, at thirty, having become an -uncomfortable mixture of future and past, it is a thing to be -looked at only when the sun is high and the world full of warmth -and optimism. - -This thought came to me as I returned to my rooms after the -Fletchers' ball. The dawn was breaking as I let myself in. The air -was heavy with the peculiar desolation of a London winter morning. -The houses looked dead and untenanted. A cart rumbled past, and -across the grey street a dingy black cat, moving furtively along -the pavement, gave an additional touch of forlornness to the -scene. - -I shivered. I was tired and hungry, and the reaction after the -emotions of the night had left me dispirited. - -I was engaged to be married. An hour back I had proposed to -Cynthia Drassilis. And I can honestly say that it had come as a -great surprise to me. - -Why had I done it? Did I love her? It was so difficult to analyse -love: and perhaps the mere fact that I was attempting the task was -an answer to the question. Certainly I had never tried to do so -five years ago when I had loved Audrey Blake. I had let myself be -carried on from day to day in a sort of trance, content to be -utterly happy, without dissecting my happiness. But I was five -years younger then, and Audrey was--Audrey. - -I must explain Audrey, for she in her turn explains Cynthia. - -I have no illusions regarding my character when I first met Audrey -Blake. Nature had given me the soul of a pig, and circumstances -had conspired to carry on Nature's work. I loved comfort, and I -could afford to have it. From the moment I came of age and -relieved my trustees of the care of my money, I wrapped myself in -comfort as in a garment. I wallowed in egoism. In fact, if, -between my twenty-first and my twenty-fifth birthdays, I had one -unselfish thought, or did one genuinely unselfish action, my -memory is a blank on the point. - -It was at the height of this period that I became engaged to -Audrey. Now that I can understand her better and see myself, -impartially, as I was in those days, I can realize how indescribably -offensive I must have been. My love was real, but that did not -prevent its patronizing complacency being an insult. I was King -Cophetua. If I did not actually say in so many words, 'This -beggar-maid shall be my queen', I said it plainly and often in my -manner. She was the daughter of a dissolute, evil-tempered artist -whom I had met at a Bohemian club. He made a living by painting -an occasional picture, illustrating an occasional magazine-story, -but mainly by doing advertisement work. A proprietor of a patent -Infants' Food, not satisfied with the bare statement that Baby -Cried For It, would feel it necessary to push the fact home to the -public through the medium of Art, and Mr Blake would be commissioned -to draw the picture. A good many specimens of his work in this vein -were to be found in the back pages of the magazines. - -A man may make a living by these means, but it is one that -inclines him to jump at a wealthy son-in-law. Mr Blake jumped at -me. It was one of his last acts on this earth. A week after he -had--as I now suspect--bullied Audrey into accepting me, he died -of pneumonia. - -His death had several results. It postponed the wedding: it -stirred me to a very crescendo of patronage, for with the removal -of the bread-winner the only flaw in my Cophetua pose had -vanished: and it gave Audrey a great deal more scope than she had -hitherto been granted for the exercise of free will in the choice -of a husband. - -This last aspect of the matter was speedily brought to my notice, -which till then it had escaped, by a letter from her, handed to me -one night at the club, where I was sipping coffee and musing on -the excellence of life in this best of all possible worlds. - -It was brief and to the point. She had been married that morning. - -To say that that moment was a turning point in my life would be to -use a ridiculously inadequate phrase. It dynamited my life. In a -sense it killed me. The man I had been died that night, regretted, -I imagine, by few. Whatever I am today, I am certainly not the -complacent spectator of life that I had been before that night. - -I crushed the letter in my hand, and sat staring at it, my pigsty -in ruins about my ears, face to face with the fact that, even in a -best of all possible worlds, money will not buy everything. - -I remember, as I sat there, a man, a club acquaintance, a bore -from whom I had fled many a time, came and settled down beside me -and began to talk. He was a small man, but he possessed a voice to -which one had to listen. He talked and talked and talked. How I -loathed him, as I sat trying to think through his stream of words. -I see now that he saved me. He forced me out of myself. But at the -time he oppressed me. I was raw and bleeding. I was struggling to -grasp the incredible. I had taken Audrey's unalterable affection -for granted. She was the natural complement to my scheme of -comfort. I wanted her; I had chosen and was satisfied with her, -therefore all was well. And now I had to adjust my mind to the -impossible fact that I had lost her. - -Her letter was a mirror in which I saw myself. She said little, -but I understood, and my self-satisfaction was in ribbons--and -something deeper than self-satisfaction. I saw now that I loved -her as I had not dreamed myself capable of loving. - -And all the while this man talked and talked. - -I have a theory that speech, persevered in, is more efficacious in -times of trouble than silent sympathy. Up to a certain point it -maddens almost beyond endurance; but, that point past, it soothes. -At least, it was so in my case. Gradually I found myself hating -him less. Soon I began to listen, then to answer. Before I left -the club that night, the first mad frenzy, in which I could have -been capable of anything, had gone from me, and I walked home, -feeling curiously weak and helpless, but calm, to begin the new -life. - -Three years passed before I met Cynthia. I spent those years -wandering in many countries. At last, as one is apt to do, I -drifted back to London, and settled down again to a life which, -superficially, was much the same as the one I had led in the days -before I knew Audrey. My old circle in London had been wide, and I -found it easy to pick up dropped threads. I made new friends, -among them Cynthia Drassilis. - -I liked Cynthia, and I was sorry for her. I think that, about that -time I met her, I was sorry for most people. The shock of Audrey's -departure had had that effect upon me. It is always the bad nigger -who gets religion most strongly at the camp-meeting, and in my -case 'getting religion' had taken the form of suppression of self. -I never have been able to do things by halves, or even with a -decent moderation. As an egoist I had been thorough in my egoism; -and now, fate having bludgeoned that vice out of me, I found -myself possessed of an almost morbid sympathy with the troubles of -other people. - -I was extremely sorry for Cynthia Drassilis. Meeting her mother -frequently, I could hardly fail to be. Mrs Drassilis was a -representative of a type I disliked. She was a widow, who had been -left with what she considered insufficient means, and her outlook -on life was a compound of greed and querulousness. Sloane Square -and South Kensington are full of women in her situation. Their -position resembles that of the Ancient Mariner. 'Water, water -everywhere, and not a drop to drink.' For 'water' in their case -substitute 'money'. Mrs Drassilis was connected with money on all -sides, but could only obtain it in rare and minute quantities. Any -one of a dozen relations-in-law could, if they had wished, have -trebled her annual income without feeling it. But they did not so -wish. They disapproved of Mrs Drassilis. In their opinion the Hon. -Hugo Drassilis had married beneath him--not so far beneath him as -to make the thing a horror to be avoided in conversation and -thought, but far enough to render them coldly polite to his wife -during his lifetime and almost icy to his widow after his death. -Hugo's eldest brother, the Earl of Westbourne, had never liked the -obviously beautiful, but equally obviously second-rate, daughter -of a provincial solicitor whom Hugo had suddenly presented to the -family one memorable summer as his bride. He considered that, by -doubling the income derived from Hugo's life-insurance and -inviting Cynthia to the family seat once a year during her -childhood, he had done all that could be expected of him in the -matter. - -He had not. Mrs Drassilis expected a great deal more of him, the -non-receipt of which had spoiled her temper, her looks, and the -peace of mind of all who had anything much to do with her. - -It used to irritate me when I overheard people, as I occasionally -have done, speak of Cynthia as hard. I never found her so myself, -though heaven knows she had enough to make her so, to me she was -always a sympathetic, charming friend. - -Ours was a friendship almost untouched by sex. Our minds fitted so -smoothly into one another that I had no inclination to fall in -love. I knew her too well. I had no discoveries to make about her. -Her honest, simple soul had always been open to me to read. There -was none of that curiosity, that sense of something beyond that -makes for love. We had reached a point of comradeship beyond which -neither of us desired to pass. - -Yet at the Fletchers' ball I asked Cynthia to marry me, and she -consented. - - * * * * * - -Looking back, I can see that, though the determining cause was Mr -Tankerville Gifford, it was Audrey who was responsible. She had -made me human, capable of sympathy, and it was sympathy, -primarily, that led me to say what I said that night. - -But the immediate cause was certainly young Mr Gifford. - -I arrived at Marlow Square, where I was to pick up Cynthia and her -mother, a little late, and found Mrs Drassilis, florid and -overdressed, in the drawing-room with a sleek-haired, pale young -man known to me as Tankerville Gifford--to his intimates, of whom -I was not one, and in the personal paragraphs of the coloured -sporting weeklies, as 'Tanky'. I had seen him frequently at -restaurants. Once, at the Empire, somebody had introduced me to -him; but, as he had not been sober at the moment, he had missed -any intellectual pleasure my acquaintanceship might have afforded -him. Like everybody else who moves about in London, I knew all -about him. To sum him up, he was a most unspeakable little cad, -and, if the drawing-room had not been Mrs Drassilis's, I should -have wondered at finding him in it. - -Mrs Drassilis introduced us. - -'I think we have already met,' I said. - -He stared glassily. - -'Don't remember.' - -I was not surprised. - -At this moment Cynthia came in. Out of the corner of my eye I -observed a look of fuddled displeasure come into Tanky's face at -her frank pleasure at seeing me. - -I had never seen her looking better. She is a tall girl, who -carries herself magnificently. The simplicity of her dress gained -an added dignity from comparison with the rank glitter of her -mother's. She wore unrelieved black, a colour which set off to -wonderful advantage the clear white of her skin and her pale-gold -hair. - -'You're late, Peter,' she said, looking at the clock. - -'I know. I'm sorry.' - -'Better be pushing, what?' suggested Tanky. - -'My cab's waiting.' - -'Will you ring the bell, Mr Gifford?' said Mrs Drassilis. 'I will -tell Parker to whistle for another.' - -'Take me in yours,' I heard a voice whisper in my ear. - -I looked at Cynthia. Her expression had not changed. Then I looked -at Tanky Gifford, and I understood. I had seen that stuffed-fish -look on his face before--on the occasion when I had been -introduced to him at the Empire. - -'If you and Mr Gifford will take my cab,' I said to Mrs Drassilis, -'we will follow.' - -Mrs Drassilis blocked the motion. I imagine that the sharp note in -her voice was lost on Tanky, but it rang out like a clarion to me. - -'I am in no hurry,' she said. 'Mr Gifford, will you take Cynthia? -I will follow with Mr Burns. You will meet Parker on the stairs. -Tell him to call another cab.' - -As the door closed behind them, she turned on me like a many-coloured -snake. - -'How can you be so extraordinarily tactless, Peter?' she cried. -'You're a perfect fool. Have you no eyes?' - -'I'm sorry,' I said. - -'He's devoted to her.' - -'I'm sorry.' - -'What do you mean?' - -'Sorry for her.' - -She seemed to draw herself together inside her dress. Her eyes -glittered. My mouth felt very dry, and my heart was beginning to -thump. We were both furiously angry. It was a moment that had been -coming for years, and we both knew it. For my part I was glad that -it had come. On subjects on which one feels deeply it is a relief -to speak one's mind. - -'Oh!' she said at last. Her voice quivered. She was clutching at -her self-control as it slipped from her. 'Oh! And what is my -daughter to you, Mr Burns!' - -'A great friend.' - -'And I suppose you think it friendly to try to spoil her chances?' - -'If Mr Gifford is a sample of them--yes.' - -'What do you mean?' - -She choked. - -'I see. I understand. I am going to put a stop to this once and -for all. Do you hear? I have noticed it for a long time. Because I -have given you the run of the house, and allowed you to come in -and out as you pleased, like a tame cat, you presume--' - -'Presume--' I prompted. - -'You come here and stand in Cynthia's way. You trade on the fact -that you have known us all this time to monopolize her attention. -You spoil her chances. You--' - -The invaluable Parker entered to say that the cab was at the door. - -We drove to the Fletchers' house in silence. The spell had been -broken. Neither of us could recapture that first, fine, careless -rapture which had carried us through the opening stages of the -conflict, and discussion of the subject on a less exalted plane -was impossible. It was that blessed period of calm, the rest -between rounds, and we observed it to the full. - -When I reached the ballroom a waltz was just finishing. Cynthia, a -statue in black, was dancing with Tanky Gifford. They were -opposite me when the music stopped, and she caught sight of me -over his shoulder. - -She disengaged herself and moved quickly towards me. - -'Take me away,' she said under her breath. 'Anywhere. Quick.' - -It was no time to consider the etiquette of the ballroom. Tanky, -startled at his sudden loneliness, seemed by his expression to be -endeavouring to bring his mind to bear on the matter. A couple -making for the door cut us off from him, and following them, we -passed out. - -Neither of us spoke till we had reached the little room where I -had meditated. - -She sat down. She was looking pale and tired. - -'Oh, dear!' she said. - -I understood. I seemed to see that journey in the cab, those -dances, those terrible between-dances ... - -It was very sudden. - -I took her hand. She turned to me with a tired smile. There were -tears in her eyes ... - -I heard myself speaking ... - -She was looking at me, her eyes shining. All the weariness seemed -to have gone out of them. - -I looked at her. - -There was something missing. I had felt it when I was speaking. To -me my voice had had no ring of conviction. And then I saw what it -was. There was no mystery. We knew each other too well. Friendship -kills love. - -She put my thought into words. - -'We have always been brother and sister,' she said doubtfully. - -'Till tonight.' - -'You have changed tonight? You really want me?' - -Did I? I tried to put the question to myself and answer it -honestly. Yes, in a sense, I had changed tonight. There was an -added appreciation of her fineness, a quickening of that blend of -admiration and pity which I had always felt for her. I wanted with -all my heart to help her, to take her away from her dreadful -surroundings, to make her happy. But did I want her in the sense -in which she had used the word? Did I want her as I had wanted -Audrey Blake? I winced away from the question. Audrey belonged to -the dead past, but it hurt to think of her. - -Was it merely because I was five years older now than when I had -wanted Audrey that the fire had gone out of me? - -I shut my mind against my doubts. - -'I have changed tonight,' I said. - -And I bent down and kissed her. - -I was conscious of being defiant against somebody. And then I knew -that the somebody was myself. - -I poured myself out a cup of hot coffee from the flask which -Smith, my man, had filled against my return. It put life into me. -The oppression lifted. - -And yet there remained something that made for uneasiness, a sort -of foreboding at the back of my mind. - -I had taken a step in the dark, and I was afraid for Cynthia. I -had undertaken to give her happiness. Was I certain that I could -succeed? The glow of chivalry had left me, and I began to doubt. - -Audrey had taken from me something that I could not recover--poetry -was as near as I could get to a definition of it. Yes, poetry. -With Cynthia my feet would always be on the solid earth. To the -end of the chapter we should be friends and nothing more. - -I found myself pitying Cynthia intensely. I saw her future a -series of years of intolerable dullness. She was too good to be -tied for life to a battered hulk like myself. - -I drank more coffee and my mood changed. Even in the grey of a -winter morning a man of thirty, in excellent health, cannot pose -to himself for long as a piece of human junk, especially if he -comforts himself with hot coffee. - -My mind resumed its balance. I laughed at myself as a sentimental -fraud. Of course I could make her happy. No man and woman had ever -been more admirably suited to each other. As for that first -disaster, which I had been magnifying into a life-tragedy, what of -it? An incident of my boyhood. A ridiculous episode which--I rose -with the intention of doing so at once--I should now proceed to -eliminate from my life. - -I went quickly to my desk, unlocked it, and took out a photograph. - -And then--undoubtedly four o'clock in the morning is no time for a -man to try to be single-minded and decisive--I wavered. I had -intended to tear the thing in pieces without a glance, and fling -it into the wastepaper-basket. But I took the glance and I -hesitated. - -The girl in the photograph was small and slight, and she looked -straight out of the picture with large eyes that met and -challenged mine. How well I remembered them, those Irish-blue eyes -under their expressive, rather heavy brows. How exactly the -photographer had caught that half-wistful, half-impudent look, the -chin tilted, the mouth curving into a smile. - -In a wave all my doubts had surged back upon me. Was this mere -sentimentalism, a four-in-the-morning tribute to the pathos of the -flying years, or did she really fill my soul and stand guard over -it so that no successor could enter in and usurp her place? - -I had no answer, unless the fact that I replaced the photograph in -its drawer was one. I felt that this thing could not be decided -now. It was more difficult than I had thought. - -All my gloom had returned by the time I was in bed. Hours seemed -to pass while I tossed restlessly aching for sleep. - -When I woke my last coherent thought was still clear in my mind. -It was a passionate vow that, come what might, if those Irish eyes -were to haunt me till my death, I would play the game loyally with -Cynthia. - - -II - -The telephone bell rang just as I was getting ready to call at -Marlow Square and inform Mrs Drassilis of the position of affairs. -Cynthia, I imagined, would have broken the news already, which -would mitigate the embarrassment of the interview to some extent; -but the recollection of my last night's encounter with Mrs -Drassilis prevented me from looking forward with any joy to the -prospect of meeting her again. - -Cynthia's voice greeted me as I unhooked the receiver. - -'Hullo, Peter! Is that you? I want you to come round here at -once.' - -'I was just starting,' I said. - -'I don't mean Marlow Square. I'm not there. I'm at the Guelph. Ask -for Mrs Ford's suite. It's very important. I'll tell you all about -it when you get here. Come as soon as you can.' - -My rooms were conveniently situated for visits to the Hotel -Guelph. A walk of a couple of minutes took me there. Mrs Ford's -suite was on the third floor. I rang the bell and Cynthia opened -the door to me. - -'Come in,' she said. 'You're a dear to be so quick.' - -'My rooms are only just round the corner.' She shut the door, and -for the first time we looked at one another. I could not say that -I was nervous, but there was certainly, to me, a something strange -in the atmosphere. Last night seemed a long way off and somehow a -little unreal. I suppose I must have shown this in my manner, for -she suddenly broke what had amounted to a distinct pause by giving -a little laugh. 'Peter,' she said, 'you're embarrassed.' I denied -the charge warmly, but without real conviction. I was embarrassed. -'Then you ought to be,' she said. 'Last night, when I was looking -my very best in a lovely dress, you asked me to marry you. Now you -see me again in cold blood, and you're wondering how you can back -out of it without hurting my feelings.' - -I smiled. She did not. I ceased to smile. She was looking at me in -a very peculiar manner. - -'Peter,' she said, 'are you sure?' - -'My dear old Cynthia,' I said, 'what's the matter with you?' - -'You are sure?' she persisted. - -'Absolutely, entirely sure.' I had a vision of two large eyes -looking at me out of a photograph. It came and went in a flash. - -I kissed Cynthia. - -'What quantities of hair you have,' I said. 'It's a shame to cover -it up.' She was not responsive. 'You're in a very queer mood -today, Cynthia,' I went on. 'What's the matter?' - -'I've been thinking.' - -'Out with it. Something has gone wrong.' An idea flashed upon me. -'Er--has your mother--is your mother very angry about--' - -'Mother's delighted. She always liked you, Peter.' - -I had the self-restraint to check a grin. - -'Then what is it?' I said. 'Tired after the dance?' - -'Nothing as simple as that.' - -'Tell me.' - -'It's so difficult to put it into words.' - -'Try.' - -She was playing with the papers on the table, her face turned -away. For a moment she did not speak. - -'I've been worrying myself, Peter,' she said at last. 'You are so -chivalrous and unselfish. You're quixotic. It's that that is -troubling me. Are you marrying me just because you're sorry for -me? Don't speak. I can tell you now if you will just let me say -straight out what's in my mind. We have known each other for two -years now. You know all about me. You know how--how unhappy I am -at home. Are you marrying me just because you pity me and want to -take me out of all that?' - -'My dear girl!' - -'You haven't answered my question.' - -'I answered it two minutes ago when you asked me if--' - -'You do love me?' - -'Yes.' - -All this time she had been keeping her face averted, but now she -turned and looked into my eyes with an abrupt intensity which, I -confess, startled me. Her words startled me more. - -'Peter, do you love me as much as you loved Audrey Blake?' - -In the instant which divided her words from my reply my mind flew -hither and thither, trying to recall an occasion when I could have -mentioned Audrey to her. I was convinced that I had not done so. I -never mentioned Audrey to anyone. - -There is a grain of superstition in the most level-headed man. I -am not particularly level-headed, and I have more than a grain in -me. I was shaken. Ever since I had asked Cynthia to marry me, it -seemed as if the ghost of Audrey had come back into my life. - -'Good Lord!' I cried. 'What do you know of Audrey Blake?' - -She turned her face away again. - -'Her name seems to affect you very strongly,' she said quietly. - -I recovered myself. - -'If you ask an old soldier,' I said, 'he will tell you that a -wound, long after it has healed, is apt to give you an occasional -twinge.' - -'Not if it has really healed.' - -'Yes, when it has really healed--when you can hardly remember how -you were fool enough to get it.' - -She said nothing. - -'How did you hear about--it?' I asked. - -'When I first met you, or soon after, a friend of yours--we -happened to be talking about you--told me that you had been engaged -to be married to a girl named Audrey Blake. He was to have been -your best man, he said, but one day you wrote and told him there -would be no wedding, and then you disappeared; and nobody saw you -again for three years.' - -'Yes,' I said: 'that is all quite true.' - -'It seems to have been a serious affair, Peter. I mean--the sort -of thing a man would find it hard to forget.' - -I tried to smile, but I knew that I was not doing it well. It was -hurting me extraordinarily, this discussion of Audrey. - -'A man would find it almost impossible,' I said, 'unless he had a -remarkably poor memory.' - -'I didn't mean that. You know what I mean by forget.' - -'Yes,' I said, 'I do.' - -She came quickly to me and took me by the shoulders, looking into -my face. - -'Peter, can you honestly say you have forgotten her--in the sense -I mean?' - -'Yes,' I said. - -Again that feeling swept over me--that curious sensation of being -defiant against myself. - -'She does not stand between us?' - -'No,' I said. - -I could feel the effort behind the word. It was as if some -subconscious part of me were working to keep it back. - -'Peter!' - -There was a soft smile on her face; as she raised it to mine I put -my arms around her. - -She drew away with a little laugh. Her whole manner had changed. -She was a different being from the girl who had looked so gravely -into my eyes a moment before. - -'Oh, my dear boy, how terribly muscular you are! You've crushed -me. I expect you used to be splendid at football, like Mr -Broster.' - -I did not reply at once. I cannot wrap up the deeper emotions and -put them back on their shelf directly I have no further immediate -use for them. I slowly adjusted myself to the new key of the -conversation. - -'Who's Broster?' I asked at length. - -'He used to be tutor to'--she turned me round and pointed--'to -_that_.' - -I had seen a picture standing on one of the chairs when I entered -the room but had taken no particular notice of it. I now gave it a -closer glance. It was a portrait, very crudely done, of a -singularly repulsive child of about ten or eleven years old. - -_Was_ he, poor chap! Well, we all have our troubles, don't -we! Who _is_ this young thug! Not a friend of yours, I hope?' - -'That is Ogden, Mrs Ford's son. It's a tragedy--' - -'Perhaps it doesn't do him justice. Does he really squint like -that, or is it just the artist's imagination?' - -'Don't make fun of it. It's the loss of that boy that is breaking -Nesta's heart.' - -I was shocked. - -'Is he dead? I'm awfully sorry. I wouldn't for the world--' - -'No, no. He is alive and well. But he is dead to her. The court -gave him into the custody of his father.' - -'The court?' - -'Mrs Ford was the wife of Elmer Ford, the American millionaire. -They were divorced a year ago.' - -'I see.' - -Cynthia was gazing at the portrait. - -'This boy is quite a celebrity in his way,' she said. 'They call -him "The Little Nugget" in America.' - -'Oh! Why is that?' - -'It's a nickname the kidnappers have for him. Ever so many -attempts have been made to steal him.' - -She stopped and looked at me oddly. - -'I made one today, Peter,' she said. I went down to the country, -where the boy was, and kidnapped him.' - -'Cynthia! What on earth do you mean?' - -'Don't you understand? I did it for Nesta's sake. She was breaking -her heart about not being able to see him, so I slipped down and -stole him away, and brought him back here.' - -I do not know if I was looking as amazed as I felt. I hope not, -for I felt as if my brain were giving way. The perfect calmness -with which she spoke of this extraordinary freak added to my -confusion. - -'You're joking!' - -'No; I stole him.' - -'But, good heavens! The law! It's a penal offence, you know!' - -'Well, I did it. Men like Elmer Ford aren't fit to have charge of -a child. You don't know him, but he's just an unscrupulous -financier, without a thought above money. To think of a boy -growing up in that tainted atmosphere--at his most impressionable -age. It means death to any good there is in him.' - -My mind was still grappling feebly with the legal aspect of the -affair. - -'But, Cynthia, kidnapping's kidnapping, you know! The law doesn't -take any notice of motives. If you're caught--' - -She cut through my babble. - -'Would you have been afraid to do it, Peter?' - -'Well--' I began. I had not considered the point before. - -'I don't believe you would. If I asked you to do it for my sake--' - -'But, Cynthia, kidnapping, you know! It's such an infernally low-down -game.' - -'I played it. Do you despise _me_?' - -I perspired. I could think of no other reply. - -'Peter,' she said, 'I understand your scruples. I know exactly how -you feel. But can't you see that this is quite different from the -sort of kidnapping you naturally look on as horrible? It's just -taking a boy away from surroundings that must harm him, back to -his mother, who worships him. It's not wrong. It's splendid.' - -She paused. - -'You _will_ do it for me, Peter?' she said. - -'I don't understand,' I said feebly. 'It's done. You've kidnapped -him yourself.' - -'They tracked him and took him back. And now I want _you_ to -try.' She came closer to me. 'Peter, don't you see what it will -mean to me if you agree to try? I'm only human, I can't help, at -the bottom of my heart, still being a little jealous of this -Audrey Blake. No, don't say anything. Words can't cure me; but if -you do this thing for me, I shall be satisfied. I shall _know_.' - -She was close beside me, holding my arm and looking into my face. -That sense of the unreality of things which had haunted me since -that moment at the dance came over me with renewed intensity. Life -had ceased to be a rather grey, orderly business in which day -succeeded day calmly and without event. Its steady stream had -broken up into rapids, and I was being whirled away on them. - -'Will you do it, Peter? Say you will.' - -A voice, presumably mine, answered 'Yes'. - -'My dear old boy!' - -She pushed me into a chair, and, sitting on the arm of it, laid -her hand on mine and became of a sudden wondrously business-like. - -'Listen,' she said, 'I'll tell you what we have arranged.' - -It was borne in upon me, as she began to do so, that she appeared -from the very beginning to have been extremely confident that that -essential part of her plans, my consent to the scheme, could be -relied upon as something of a certainty. Women have these -intuitions. - - -III - -Looking back, I think I can fix the point at which this insane -venture I had undertaken ceased to be a distorted dream, from -which I vaguely hoped that I might shortly waken, and took shape -as a reality of the immediate future. That moment came when I met -Mr Arnold Abney by appointment at his club. - -Till then the whole enterprise had been visionary. I gathered from -Cynthia that the boy Ogden was shortly to be sent to a preparatory -school, and that I was to insinuate myself into this school and, -watching my opportunity, to remove him; but it seemed to me that -the obstacles to this comparatively lucid scheme were insuperable. -In the first place, how were we to discover which of England's -million preparatory schools Mr Ford, or Mr Mennick for him, would -choose? Secondly, the plot which was to carry me triumphantly into -this school when--or if--found, struck me as extremely thin. I -was to pose, Cynthia told me, as a young man of private means, -anxious to learn the business, with a view to setting up a school -of his own. The objection to that was, I held, that I obviously -did not want to do anything of the sort. I had not the appearance -of a man with such an ambition. I had none of the conversation of -such a man. - -I put it to Cynthia. - -'They would find me out in a day,' I assured her. 'A man who wants -to set up a school has got to be a pretty brainy sort of fellow. I -don't know anything.' - -'You got your degree.' - -'A degree. At any rate, I've forgotten all I knew.' - -'That doesn't matter. You have the money. Anybody with money can -start a school, even if he doesn't know a thing. Nobody would -think it strange.' - -It struck me as a monstrous slur on our educational system, but -reflection told me it was true. The proprietor of a preparatory -school, if he is a man of wealth, need not be able to teach, any -more than an impresario need be able to write plays. - -'Well, we'll pass that for the moment,' I said. 'Here's the real -difficulty. How are you going to find out the school Mr Ford has -chosen?' - -'I have found it out already--or Nesta has. She set a detective to -work. It was perfectly easy. Ogden's going to Mr Abney's. Sanstead -House is the name of the place. It's in Hampshire somewhere. Quite -a small school, but full of little dukes and earls and things. -Lord Mountry's younger brother, Augustus Beckford, is there.' - -I had known Lord Mountry and his family well some years ago. I -remembered Augustus dimly. - -'Mountry? Do you know him? He was up at Oxford with me.' - -She seemed interested. - -'What kind of a man is he?' she asked. - -'Oh, quite a good sort. Rather an ass. I haven't seen him for -years.' - -'He's a friend of Nesta's. I've only met him once. He is going to -be your reference.' - -'My what?' - -'You will need a reference. At least, I suppose you will. And, -anyhow, if you say you know Lord Mountry it will make it simpler -for you with Mr Abney, the brother being at the school.' - -'Does Mountry know about this business? Have you told him why I -want to go to Abney's?' - -'Nesta told him. He thought it was very sporting of you. He will -tell Mr Abney anything we like. By the way, Peter, you will have -to pay a premium or something, I suppose. But Nesta will look -after all expenses, of course.' - -On this point I made my only stand of the afternoon. - -'No,' I said; 'it's very kind of her, but this is going to be -entirely an amateur performance. I'm doing this for you, and I'll -stand the racket. Good heavens! Fancy taking money for a job of -this kind!' - -She looked at me rather oddly. - -'That is very sweet of you, Peter,' she said, after a slight -pause. 'Now let's get to work.' - -And together we composed the letter which led to my sitting, two -days later, in stately conference at his club with Mr Arnold -Abney, M.A., of Sanstead House, Hampshire. - -Mr Abney proved to be a long, suave, benevolent man with an Oxford -manner, a high forehead, thin white hands, a cooing intonation, -and a general air of hushed importance, as of one in constant -communication with the Great. There was in his bearing something -of the family solicitor in whom dukes confide, and something of -the private chaplain at the Castle. - -He gave me the key-note to his character in the first minute of -our acquaintanceship. We had seated ourselves at a table in the -smoking-room when an elderly gentleman shuffled past, giving a nod -in transit. My companion sprang to his feet almost convulsively, -returned the salutation, and subsided slowly into his chair again. - -'The Duke of Devizes,' he said in an undertone. 'A most able man. -Most able. His nephew, Lord Ronald Stokeshaye, was one of my -pupils. A charming boy.' - -I gathered that the old feudal spirit still glowed to some extent -in Mr Abney's bosom. - -We came to business. - -'So you wish to be one of us, Mr Burns, to enter the scholastic -profession?' - -I tried to look as if I did. - -'Well, in certain circumstances, the circumstances in which -I--ah--myself, I may say, am situated, there is no more delightful -occupation. The work is interesting. There is the constant -fascination of seeing these fresh young lives develop--and of -helping them to develop--under one's eyes; in any case, I may say, -there is the exceptional interest of being in a position to mould -the growing minds of lads who will some day take their place among -the country's hereditary legislators, that little knot of devoted -men who, despite the vulgar attacks of loudmouthed demagogues, -still do their share, and more, in the guidance of England's -fortunes. Yes.' - -He paused. I said I thought so, too. - -'You are an Oxford man, Mr Burns, I think you told me? Ah, I have -your letter here. Just so. You were at--ah, yes. A fine college. -The Dean is a lifelong friend of mine. Perhaps you knew my late -pupil, Lord Rollo?--no, he would have been since your time. A -delightful boy. Quite delightful ... And you took your degree? -Exactly. _And_ represented the university at both cricket and -Rugby football? Excellent. _Mens sana in_--ah--_corpore_, in fact, -_sano_, yes!' - -He folded the letter carefully and replaced it in his pocket. - -'Your primary object in coming to me, Mr Burns, is, I gather, to -learn the--ah--the ropes, the business? You have had little or no -previous experience of school-mastering?' - -'None whatever.' - -'Then your best plan would undoubtedly be to consider yourself and -work for a time simply as an ordinary assistant-master. You would -thus get a sound knowledge of the intricacies of the profession -which would stand you in good stead when you decide to set up your -own school. School-mastering is a profession, which cannot be -taught adequately except in practice. "Only those who--ah--brave -its dangers comprehend its mystery." Yes, I would certainly -recommend you to begin at the foot of the ladder and go, at least -for a time, through the mill.' - -'Certainly,' I said. 'Of course.' - -My ready acquiescence pleased him. I could see that he was -relieved. I think he had expected me to jib at the prospect of -actual work. - -'As it happens,' he said, 'my classical master left me at the end -of last term. I was about to go to the Agency for a successor when -your letter arrived. Would you consider--' - -I had to think this over. Feeling kindly disposed towards Mr -Arnold Abney, I wished to do him as little harm as possible. I was -going to rob him of a boy, who, while no moulding of his growing -mind could make him into a hereditary legislator, did undoubtedly -represent a portion of Mr Abney's annual income; and I did not -want to increase my offence by being a useless assistant-master. -Then I reflected that, if I was no Jowett, at least I knew enough -Latin and Greek to teach the rudiments of those languages to small -boys. My conscience was satisfied. - -'I should be delighted,' I said. - -'Excellent. Then let us consider that as--ah--settled,' said Mr -Abney. - -There was a pause. My companion began to fiddle a little -uncomfortably with an ash-tray. I wondered what was the matter, -and then it came to me. We were about to become sordid. The -discussion of terms was upon us. - -And as I realized this, I saw simultaneously how I could throw one -more sop to my exigent conscience. After all, the whole thing was -really a question of hard cash. By kidnapping Ogden I should be -taking money from Mr Abney. By paying my premium I should be -giving it back to him. - -I considered the circumstances. Ogden was now about thirteen years -old. The preparatory-school age limit may be estimated roughly at -fourteen. That is to say, in any event Sanstead House could only -harbour him for one year. Mr Abney's fees I had to guess at. To be -on the safe side, I fixed my premium at an outside figure, and, -getting to the point at once, I named it. - -It was entirely satisfactory. My mental arithmetic had done me -credit. Mr Abney beamed upon me. Over tea and muffins we became -very friendly. In half an hour I heard more of the theory of -school-mastering than I had dreamed existed. - -We said good-bye at the club front door. He smiled down at me -benevolently from the top of the steps. - -'Good-bye, Mr Burns, good-bye,' he said. 'We shall meet -at--ah--Philippi.' - -When I reached my rooms, I rang for Smith. - -'Smith,' I said, 'I want you to get some books for me first thing -tomorrow. You had better take a note of them.' - -He moistened his pencil. - -'A Latin Grammar.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'A Greek Grammar.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'Brodley Arnold's Easy Prose Sentences.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'And Caesar's Gallic Wars.' - -'What name, sir?' - -'Caesar.' - -'Thank you, sir. Anything else, sir?' - -'No, that will be all.' - -'Very good, sir.' - -He shimmered from the room. - -Thank goodness, Smith always has thought me mad, and is consequently -never surprised at anything I ask him to do. - - - - -Chapter 2 - - -Sanstead House was an imposing building in the Georgian style. It -stood, foursquare, in the midst of about nine acres of land. For -the greater part of its existence, I learned later, it had been -the private home of a family of the name of Boone, and in its -early days the estate had been considerable. But the progress of -the years had brought changes to the Boones. Money losses had -necessitated the sale of land. New roads had come into being, -cutting off portions of the estate from their centre. New -facilities for travel had drawn members of the family away from -home. The old fixed life of the country had changed, and in the -end the latest Boone had come to the conclusion that to keep up so -large and expensive a house was not worth his while. - -That the place should have become a school was the natural process -of evolution. It was too large for the ordinary purchaser, and the -estate had been so whittled down in the course of time that it was -inadequate for the wealthy. Colonel Boone had been glad to let it -to Mr Abney, and the school had started its career. - -It had all the necessary qualifications for a school. It was -isolated. The village was two miles from its gates. It was near -the sea. There were fields for cricket and football, and inside -the house a number of rooms of every size, suitable for classrooms -and dormitories. - -The household, when I arrived, consisted, besides Mr Abney, myself, -another master named Glossop, and the matron, of twenty-four boys, -the butler, the cook, the odd-job-man, two housemaids, a scullery-maid, -and a parlour-maid. It was a little colony, cut off from the outer -world. - -With the exception of Mr Abney and Glossop, a dismal man of nerves -and mannerisms, the only person with whom I exchanged speech on my -first evening was White, the butler. There are some men one likes -at sight. White was one of them. Even for a butler he was a man of -remarkably smooth manners, but he lacked that quality of austere -aloofness which I have noticed in other butlers. - -He helped me unpack my box, and we chatted during the process. He -was a man of medium height, square and muscular, with something, -some quality of springiness, as it were, that seemed unusual in a -butler. From one or two things he said, I gathered that he had -travelled a good deal. Altogether he interested me. He had humour, -and the half-hour which I had spent with Glossop made me set a -premium on humour. I found that he, like myself, was a new-comer. -His predecessor had left at short notice during the holidays, and -he had secured the vacancy at about the same time that I was -securing mine. We agreed that it was a pretty place. White, I -gathered, regarded its isolation as a merit. He was not fond of -village society. - -On the following morning, at eight o'clock, my work began. - -My first day had the effect of entirely revolutionizing what ideas -I possessed of the lot of the private-school assistant-master. - -My view, till then, had been that the assistant-master had an easy -time. I had only studied him from the outside. My opinion was -based on observations made as a boy at my own private school, when -masters were an enviable race who went to bed when they liked, had -no preparation to do, and couldn't be caned. It seemed to me then -that those three facts, especially the last, formed a pretty good -basis on which to build up the Perfect Life. - -I had not been at Sanstead House two days before doubts began to -creep in on this point. What the boy, observing the assistant-master -standing about in apparently magnificent idleness, does not realize -is that the unfortunate is really putting in a spell of exceedingly -hard work. He is 'taking duty'. And 'taking duty' is a thing to be -remembered, especially by a man who, like myself, has lived a life -of fatted ease, protected from all the minor annoyances of life by -a substantial income. - -Sanstead House educated me. It startled me. It showed me a hundred -ways in which I had allowed myself to become soft and inefficient, -without being aware of it. There may be other professions which -call for a fiercer display of energy, but for the man with a -private income who has loitered through life at his own pace, a -little school-mastering is brisk enough to be a wonderful tonic. - -I needed it, and I got it. - -It was almost as if Mr Abney had realized intuitively how excellent -the discipline of work was for my soul, for the kindly man allowed -me to do not only my own, but most of his as well. I have talked -with assistant-masters since, and I have gathered from them that -headmasters of private schools are divided into two classes: the -workers and the runners-up-to-London. Mr Abney belonged to the -latter class. Indeed, I doubt if a finer representative of the -class could have been found in the length and breadth of southern -England. London drew him like a magnet. - -After breakfast he would take me aside. The formula was always the -same. - -'Ah--Mr Burns.' - -Myself (apprehensively, scenting disaster, 'like some wild -creature caught within a trap, who sees the trapper coming through -the wood'). 'Yes? Er--yes?' - -'I am afraid I shall be obliged to run up to London today. I have -received an important letter from--' And then he would name some -parent or some prospective parent. (By 'prospective' I mean one -who was thinking of sending his son to Sanstead House. You may -have twenty children, but unless you send them to his school, a -schoolmaster will refuse to dignify you with the name of parent.) - -Then, 'He wishes--ah--to see me,' or, in the case of titled -parents, 'He wishes--ah--to talk things over with me.' The -distinction is subtle, but he always made it. - -And presently the cab would roll away down the long drive, and my -work would begin, and with it that soul-discipline to which I have -alluded. - -'Taking duty' makes certain definite calls upon a man. He has to -answer questions; break up fights; stop big boys bullying small -boys; prevent small boys bullying smaller boys; check stone-throwing, -going-on-the-wet-grass, worrying-the-cook, teasing-the-dog, -making-too-much-noise, and, in particular, discourage all forms -of _hara-kiri_ such as tree-climbing, water-spout-scaling, -leaning-too-far-out-of-the-window, sliding-down-the-banisters, -pencil-swallowing, and ink-drinking-because-somebody-dared-me-to. - -At intervals throughout the day there are further feats to -perform. Carving the joint, helping the pudding, playing football, -reading prayers, teaching, herding stragglers in for meals, and -going round the dormitories to see that the lights are out, are a -few of them. - -I wanted to oblige Cynthia, if I could, but there were moments -during the first day or so when I wondered how on earth I was -going to snatch the necessary time to combine kidnapping with my -other duties. Of all the learned professions it seemed to me that -that of the kidnapper most urgently demanded certain intervals for -leisured thought, in which schemes and plots might be matured. - -Schools vary. Sanstead House belonged to the more difficult class. -Mr Abney's constant flittings did much to add to the burdens of -his assistants, and his peculiar reverence for the aristocracy did -even more. His endeavour to make Sanstead House a place where the -delicately nurtured scions of the governing class might feel as -little as possible the temporary loss of titled mothers led him -into a benevolent tolerance which would have unsettled angels. - -Success or failure for an assistant-master is, I consider, very -much a matter of luck. My colleague, Glossop, had most of the -qualities that make for success, but no luck. Properly backed up -by Mr Abney, he might have kept order. As it was, his class-room -was a bear-garden, and, when he took duty, chaos reigned. - -I, on the other hand, had luck. For some reason the boys agreed to -accept me. Quite early in my sojourn I enjoyed that sweetest triumph -of the assistant-master's life, the spectacle of one boy smacking -another boy's head because the latter persisted in making a noise -after I had told him to stop. I doubt if a man can experience so -keenly in any other way that thrill which comes from the knowledge -that the populace is his friend. Political orators must have the -same sort of feeling when their audience clamours for the ejection -of a heckler, but it cannot be so keen. One is so helpless with boys, -unless they decide that they like one. - -It was a week from the beginning of the term before I made the -acquaintance of the Little Nugget. - -I had kept my eyes open for him from the beginning, and when I -discovered that he was not at school, I had felt alarmed. Had -Cynthia sent me down here, to work as I had never worked before, -on a wild-goose chase? - -Then, one morning, Mr Abney drew me aside after breakfast. - -'Ah--Mr Burns.' - -It was the first time that I had heard those soon-to-be-familiar -words. - -'I fear I shall be compelled to run up to London today. I have an -important appointment with the father of a boy who is coming to -the school. He wishes--ah--to see me.' - -This might be the Little Nugget at last. - -I was right. During the interval before school, Augustus Beckford -approached me. Lord Mountry's brother was a stolid boy with -freckles. He had two claims to popular fame. He could hold his -breath longer than any other boy in the school, and he always got -hold of any piece of gossip first. - -'There's a new kid coming tonight, sir,' he said--'an American -kid. I heard him talking about it to the matron. The kid's name's -Ford, I believe the kid's father's awfully rich. Would you like to -be rich, sir? I wish I was rich. If I was rich, I'd buy all sorts -of things. I believe I'm going to be rich when I grow up. I heard -father talking to a lawyer about it. There's a new parlour-maid -coming soon, sir. I heard cook telling Emily. I'm blowed if I'd -like to be a parlour-maid, would you, sir? I'd much rather be a -cook.' - -He pondered the point for a moment. When he spoke again, it was to -touch on a still more profound problem. - -'If you wanted a halfpenny to make up twopence to buy a lizard, -what would you do, sir?' - -He got it. - -Ogden Ford, the El Dorado of the kidnapping industry, entered -Sanstead House at a quarter past nine that evening. He was -preceded by a Worried Look, Mr Arnold Abney, a cabman bearing a -large box, and the odd-job man carrying two suitcases. I have -given precedence to the Worried Look because it was a thing by -itself. To say that Mr Abney wore it would be to create a wrong -impression. Mr Abney simply followed in its wake. He was concealed -behind it much as Macbeth's army was concealed behind the woods of -Dunsinane. - -I only caught a glimpse of Ogden as Mr Abney showed him into his -study. He seemed a self-possessed boy, very like but, if anything, -uglier than the portrait of him which I had seen at the Hotel -Guelph. - -A moment later the door opened, and my employer came out. He -appeared relieved at seeing me. - -'Ah, Mr Burns, I was about to go in search of you. Can you spare -me a moment? Let us go into the dining-room.' - -'That is a boy called Ford, Mr Burns,' he said, when he had closed -the door. 'A rather--er--remarkable boy. He is an American, the -son of a Mr Elmer Ford. As he will be to a great extent in your -charge, I should like to prepare you for his--ah--peculiarities.' - -'Is he peculiar?' - -A faint spasm disturbed Mr Abney's face. He applied a silk -handkerchief to his forehead before he replied. - -'In many ways, judged by the standard of the lads who have passed -through my hands--boys, of course, who, it is only fair to add, -have enjoyed the advantages of a singularly refined home-life--he -may be said to be--ah--somewhat peculiar. While I have no doubt -that _au fond ... au fond_ he is a charming boy, quite charming, -at present he is--shall I say?--peculiar. I am disposed to imagine -that he has been, from childhood up, systematically indulged. -There has been in his life, I suspect, little or no discipline. -The result has been to make him curiously unboylike. There is a -complete absence of that diffidence, that childish capacity for -surprise, which I for one find so charming in our English boys. -Little Ford appears to be completely blase'. He has tastes and ideas -which are precocious, and--unusual in a boy of his age.... He -expresses himself in a curious manner sometimes.... He seems to have -little or no reverence for--ah--constituted authority.' - -He paused while he passed his handkerchief once more over his -forehead. - -'Mr Ford, the boy's father, who struck me as a man of great -ability, a typical American merchant prince, was singularly frank -with me about his domestic affairs as they concerned his son. I -cannot recall his exact words, but the gist of what he said was -that, until now, Mrs Ford had had sole charge of the boy's -upbringing, and--Mr Ford was singularly outspoken--was too -indulgent, in fact--ah--spoilt him. Indeed--you will, of course, -respect my confidence--that was the real reason for the divorce -which--ah--has unhappily come about. Mr Ford regards this school -as in a measure--shall I say?--an antidote. He wishes there to be -no lack of wholesome discipline. So that I shall expect you, Mr -Burns, to check firmly, though, of course, kindly, such habits of -his as--ah--cigarette-smoking. On our journey down he smoked -incessantly. I found it impossible--without physical violence--to -induce him to stop. But, of course, now that he is actually at the -school, and subject to the discipline of the school ...' - -'Exactly,' I said. - -'That was all I wished to say. Perhaps it would be as well if you -saw him now, Mr Burns. You will find him in the study.' - -He drifted away, and I went to the study to introduce myself. - -A cloud of tobacco-smoke rising above the back of an easy-chair -greeted me as I opened the door. Moving into the room, I perceived -a pair of boots resting on the grate. I stepped to the light, and -the remainder of the Little Nugget came into view. - -He was lying almost at full length in the chair, his eyes fixed in -dreamy abstraction upon the ceiling. As I came towards him, he -drew at the cigarette between his fingers, glanced at me, looked -away again, and expelled another mouthful of smoke. He was not -interested in me. - -Perhaps this indifference piqued me, and I saw him with prejudiced -eyes. At any rate, he seemed to me a singularly unprepossessing -youth. That portrait had flattered him. He had a stout body and a -round, unwholesome face. His eyes were dull, and his mouth dropped -discontentedly. He had the air of one who is surfeited with life. - -I am disposed to imagine, as Mr Abney would have said, that my -manner in addressing him was brisker and more incisive than Mr -Abney's own. I was irritated by his supercilious detachment. - -'Throw away that cigarette,' I said. - -To my amazement, he did, promptly. I was beginning to wonder -whether I had not been too abrupt--he gave me a curious sensation -of being a man of my own age--when he produced a silver case from -his pocket and opened it. I saw that the cigarette in the fender -was a stump. - -I took the case from his hand and threw it on to a table. For the -first time he seemed really to notice my existence. - -'You've got a hell of a nerve,' he said. - -He was certainly exhibiting his various gifts in rapid order, -This, I took it, was what Mr Abney had called 'expressing himself -in a curious manner'. - -'And don't swear,' I said. - -We eyed each other narrowly for the space of some seconds. - -'Who are you?' he demanded. - -I introduced myself. - -'What do you want to come butting in for?' - -'I am paid to butt in. It's the main duty of an assistant-master.' - -'Oh, you're the assistant-master, are you?' - -'One of them. And, in passing--it's a small technical point--you're -supposed to call me "sir" during these invigorating little chats -of ours.' - -'Call you what? Up an alley!' - -'I beg your pardon?' - -'Fade away. Take a walk.' - -I gathered that he was meaning to convey that he had considered my -proposition, but regretted his inability to entertain it. - -'Didn't you call your tutor "sir" when you were at home?' - -'Me? Don't make me laugh. I've got a cracked lip.' - -'I gather you haven't an overwhelming respect for those set in -authority over you.' - -'If you mean my tutors, I should say nix.' - -'You use the plural. Had you a tutor before Mr Broster?' - -He laughed. - -'Had I? Only about ten million.' - -'Poor devils!' I said. - -'Who's swearing now?' - -The point was well taken. I corrected myself. - -'Poor brutes! What happened to them? Did they commit suicide?' - -'Oh, they quit. And I don't blame them. I'm a pretty tough -proposition, and you don't want to forget it.' - -He reached out for the cigarette-case. I pocketed it. - -'You make me tired,' he said. - -'The sensation's mutual.' - -'Do you think you can swell around, stopping me doing things?' - -'You've defined my job exactly.' - -'Guess again. I know all about this joint. The hot-air merchant -was telling me about it on the train.' - -I took the allusion to be to Mr Arnold Abney, and thought it -rather a happy one. - -'He's the boss, and nobody but him is allowed to hit the fellows. -If you tried it, you'd lose your job. And he ain't going to, -because the Dad's paying double fees, and he's scared stiff he'll -lose me if there's any trouble.' - -'You seem to have a grasp of the position.' - -'Bet your life I have.' - -I looked at him as he sprawled in the chair. - -'You're a funny kid,' I said. - -He stiffened, outraged. His little eyes gleamed. - -'Say, it looks to me as if you wanted making a head shorter. -You're a darned sight too fresh. Who do you think you are, -anyway?' - -'I'm your guardian angel,' I replied. 'I'm the fellow who's going -to take you in hand and make you a little ray of sunshine about -the home. I know your type backwards. I've been in America and -studied it on its native asphalt. You superfatted millionaire kids -are all the same. If Dad doesn't jerk you into the office before -you're out of knickerbockers, you just run to seed. You get to -think you're the only thing on earth, and you go on thinking it -till one day somebody comes along and shows you you're not, and -then you get what's coming to you--good and hard.' - -He began to speak, but I was on my favourite theme, one I had -studied and brooded upon since the evening when I had received a -certain letter at my club. - -'I knew a man,' I said, 'who started out just like you. He always -had all the money he wanted: never worked: grew to think himself a -sort of young prince. What happened?' - -He yawned. - -'I'm afraid I'm boring you,' I said. - -'Go on. Enjoy yourself,' said the Little Nugget. - -'Well, it's a long story, so I'll spare you it. But the moral of -it was that a boy who is going to have money needs to be taken in -hand and taught sense while he's young.' - -He stretched himself. - -'You talk a lot. What do you reckon you're going to do?' - -I eyed him thoughtfully. - -'Well, everything's got to have a beginning,' I said. 'What you -seem to me to want most is exercise. I'll take you for a run every -day. You won't know yourself at the end of a week.' - -'Say, if you think you're going to get _me_ to run--' - -'When I grab your little hand, and start running, you'll find -you'll soon be running too. And, years hence, when you win the -Marathon at the Olympic Games, you'll come to me with tears in -your eyes, and you'll say--' - -'Oh, slush!' - -'I shouldn't wonder.' I looked at my watch. 'Meanwhile, you had -better go to bed. It's past your proper time.' - -He stared at me in open-eyed amazement. - -'Bed!' - -'Bed.' - -He seemed more amused than annoyed. - -'Say, what time do you think I usually go to bed?' - -'I know what time you go here. Nine o'clock.' - -As if to support my words, the door opened, and Mrs Attwell, the -matron, entered. - -'I think it's time he came to bed, Mr Burns.' - -'Just what I was saying, Mrs Attwell.' - -'You're crazy,' observed the Little Nugget. 'Bed nothing!' - -Mrs Attwell looked at me despairingly. - -'I never saw such a boy!' - -The whole machinery of the school was being held up by this legal -infant. Any vacillation now, and Authority would suffer a set-back -from which it would be hard put to it to recover. It seemed to me -a situation that called for action. - -I bent down, scooped the Little Nugget out of his chair like an -oyster, and made for the door. Outside he screamed incessantly. He -kicked me in the stomach and then on the knee. He continued to -scream. He screamed all the way upstairs. He was screaming when we -reached his room. - - * * * * * - -Half an hour later I sat in the study, smoking thoughtfully. -Reports from the seat of war told of a sullen and probably only -temporary acquiescence with Fate on the part of the enemy. He was -in bed, and seemed to have made up his mind to submit to the -position. An air of restrained jubilation prevailed among the -elder members of the establishment. Mr Abney was friendly and Mrs -Attwell openly congratulatory. I was something like the hero of -the hour. - -But was I jubilant? No, I was inclined to moodiness. Unforeseen -difficulties had arisen in my path. Till now, I had regarded this -kidnapping as something abstract. Personality had not entered into -the matter. If I had had any picture in my mind's eye, it was of -myself stealing away softly into the night with a docile child, -his little hand laid trustfully in mine. From what I had seen and -heard of Ogden Ford in moments of emotion, it seemed to me that -whoever wanted to kidnap him with any approach to stealth would -need to use chloroform. - -Things were getting very complex. - - - - -Chapter 3 - - -I have never kept a diary, and I have found it, in consequence, -somewhat difficult, in telling this narrative, to arrange the -minor incidents of my story in their proper sequence. I am writing -by the light of an imperfect memory; and the work is complicated -by the fact that the early days of my sojourn at Sanstead House -are a blur, a confused welter like a Futurist picture, from which -emerge haphazard the figures of boys--boys working, boys eating, -boys playing football, boys whispering, shouting, asking -questions, banging doors, jumping on beds, and clattering upstairs -and along passages, the whole picture faintly scented with a -composite aroma consisting of roast beef, ink, chalk, and that -curious classroom smell which is like nothing else on earth. - -I cannot arrange the incidents. I can see Mr Abney, furrowed as to -the brow and drooping at the jaw, trying to separate Ogden Ford -from a half-smoked cigar-stump. I can hear Glossop, feverishly -angry, bellowing at an amused class. A dozen other pictures come -back to me, but I cannot place them in their order; and perhaps, -after all, their sequence is unimportant. This story deals with -affairs which were outside the ordinary school life. - -With the war between the Little Nugget and Authority, for -instance, the narrative has little to do. It is a subject for an -epic, but it lies apart from the main channel of the story, and -must be avoided. To tell of his gradual taming, of the chaos his -advent caused until we became able to cope with him, would be to -turn this story into a treatise on education. It is enough to say -that the process of moulding his character and exorcising the -devil which seemed to possess him was slow. - -It was Ogden who introduced tobacco-chewing into the school, with -fearful effects one Saturday night on the aristocratic interiors -of Lords Gartridge and Windhall and Honourables Edwin Bellamy and -Hildebrand Kyne. It was the ingenious gambling-game imported by -Ogden which was rapidly undermining the moral sense of twenty-four -innocent English boys when it was pounced upon by Glossop. It was -Ogden who, on the one occasion when Mr Abney reluctantly resorted -to the cane, and administered four mild taps with it, relieved his -feelings by going upstairs and breaking all the windows in all the -bedrooms. - -We had some difficult young charges at Sanstead House. Abney's -policy of benevolent toleration ensured that. But Ogden Ford stood -alone. - - * * * * * - -I have said that it is difficult for me to place the lesser events -of my narrative in their proper order. I except three, however -which I will call the Affair of the Strange American, the Adventure -of the Sprinting Butler, and the Episode of the Genial Visitor. - -I will describe them singly, as they happened. - -It was the custom at Sanstead House for each of the assistant -masters to take half of one day in every week as a holiday. The -allowance was not liberal, and in most schools, I believe, it is -increased; but Mr Abney was a man with peculiar views on other -people's holidays, and Glossop and I were accordingly restricted. - -My day was Wednesday; and on the Wednesday of which I write I -strolled towards the village. I had in my mind a game of billiards -at the local inn. Sanstead House and its neighbourhood were -lacking in the fiercer metropolitan excitements, and billiards at -the 'Feathers' constituted for the pleasure-seeker the beginning -and end of the Gay Whirl. - -There was a local etiquette governing the game of billiards at the -'Feathers'. You played the marker a hundred up, then you took him -into the bar-parlour and bought him refreshment. He raised his -glass, said, 'To you, sir', and drained it at a gulp. After that -you could, if you wished, play another game, or go home, as your -fancy dictated. - -There was only one other occupant of the bar-parlour when we -adjourned thither, and a glance at him told me that he was not -ostentatiously sober. He was lying back in a chair, with his feet -on the side-table, and crooning slowly, in a melancholy voice, the -following words: - - _'I don't care--if he wears--a crown, - He--can't--keep kicking my--dawg aroun'.'_ - -He was a tough, clean-shaven man, with a broken nose, over which -was tilted a soft felt hat. His wiry limbs were clad in what I put -down as a mail-order suit. I could have placed him by his -appearance, if I had not already done so by his voice, as an -East-side New Yorker. And what an East-side New Yorker could be -doing in Sanstead it was beyond me to explain. - -We had hardly seated ourselves when he rose and lurched out. I saw -him pass the window, and his assertion that no crowned head should -molest his dog came faintly to my ears as he went down the street. - -'American!' said Miss Benjafield, the stately barmaid, with strong -disapproval. 'They're all alike.' - -I never contradict Miss Benjafield--one would as soon contradict -the Statue of Liberty--so I merely breathed sympathetically. - -'What's he here for I'd like to know?' - -It occurred to me that I also should like to know. In another -thirty hours I was to find out. - -I shall lay myself open to a charge of denseness such as even -Doctor Watson would have scorned when I say that, though I thought -of the matter a good deal on my way back to the school, I did not -arrive at the obvious solution. Much teaching and taking of duty -had dulled my wits, and the presence at Sanstead House of the -Little Nugget did not even occur to me as a reason why strange -Americans should be prowling in the village. - -We now come to the remarkable activity of White, the butler. - -It happened that same evening. - -It was not late when I started on my way back to the house, but the -short January day was over, and it was very dark as I turned in at -the big gate of the school and made my way up the drive. The drive -at Sanstead House was a fine curving stretch of gravel, about two -hundred yards in length, flanked on either side by fir trees and -rhododendrons. I stepped out briskly, for it had begun to freeze. -Just as I caught sight through the trees of the lights of the -windows, there came to me the sound of running feet. - -I stopped. The noise grew louder. There seemed to be two runners, -one moving with short, quick steps, the other, the one in front, -taking a longer stride. - -I drew aside instinctively. In another moment, making a great -clatter on the frozen gravel, the first of the pair passed me; and -as he did so, there was a sharp crack, and something sang through -the darkness like a large mosquito. - -The effect of the sound on the man who had been running was -immediate. He stopped in his stride and dived into the bushes. His -footsteps thudded faintly on the turf. - -The whole incident had lasted only a few seconds, and I was still -standing there when I was aware of the other man approaching. He -had apparently given up the pursuit, for he was walking quite -slowly. He stopped within a few feet of me and I heard him -swearing softly to himself. - -'Who's that?' I cried sharply. The crack of the pistol had given a -flick to my nerves. Mine had been a sheltered life, into which -hitherto revolver-shots had not entered, and I was resenting this -abrupt introduction of them. I felt jumpy and irritated. - -It gave me a malicious pleasure to see that I had startled the -unknown dispenser of shocks quite as much as he had startled me. -The movement he made as he faced towards my direction was almost a -leap; and it suddenly flashed upon me that I had better at once -establish my identity as a non-combatant. I appeared to have -wandered inadvertently into the midst of a private quarrel, one -party to which--the one standing a couple of yards from me with a -loaded revolver in his hand--was evidently a man of impulse, the -sort of man who would shoot first and inquire afterwards. - -'I'm Mr Burns,' I said. 'I'm one of the assistant-masters. Who are -you?' - -'Mr Burns?' - -Surely that rich voice was familiar. - -'White?' I said. - -'Yes, sir.' - -'What on earth do you think you're doing? Have you gone mad? Who -was that man?' - -'I wish I could tell you, sir. A very doubtful character. I found -him prowling at the back of the house very suspiciously. He took -to his heels and I followed him.' - -'But'--I spoke querulously, my orderly nature was shocked--'you -can't go shooting at people like that just because you find them -at the back of the house. He might have been a tradesman.' - -'I think not, sir.' - -'Well, so do I, if it comes to that. He didn't behave like one. But -all the same--' - -'I take your point, sir. But I was merely intending to frighten -him.' - -'You succeeded all right. He went through those bushes like a -cannon-ball.' - -I heard him chuckle. - -'I think I may have scared him a little, sir.' - -'We must phone to the police-station. Could you describe the man?' - -'I think not, sir. It was very dark. And, if I may make the -suggestion, it would be better not to inform the police. I have a -very poor opinion of these country constables.' - -'But we can't have men prowling--' - -'If you will permit me, sir. I say--let them prowl. It's the only -way to catch them.' - -'If you think this sort of thing is likely to happen again I must -tell Mr Abney.' - -'Pardon me, sir, I think it would be better not. He impresses me -as a somewhat nervous gentleman, and it would only disturb him.' - -At this moment it suddenly struck me that, in my interest in the -mysterious fugitive, I had omitted to notice what was really the -most remarkable point in the whole affair. How did White happen to -have a revolver at all? I have met many butlers who behaved -unexpectedly in their spare time. One I knew played the fiddle; -another preached Socialism in Hyde Park. But I had never yet come -across a butler who fired pistols. - -'What were you doing with a revolver?' I asked. - -He hesitated. - -'May I ask you to keep it to yourself, sir, if I tell you -something?' he said at last. - -'What do you mean?' - -'I'm a detective.' - -'What!' - -'A Pinkerton's man, Mr Burns.' - -I felt like one who sees the 'danger' board over thin ice. But for -this information, who knew what rash move I might not have made, -under the assumption that the Little Nugget was unguarded? At the -same time, I could not help reflecting that, if things had been -complex before, they had become far more so in the light of this -discovery. To spirit Ogden away had never struck me, since his -arrival at the school, as an easy task. It seemed more difficult -now than ever. - -I had the sense to affect astonishment. I made my imitation of an -innocent assistant-master astounded by the news that the butler is -a detective in disguise as realistic as I was able. It appeared to -be satisfactory, for he began to explain. - -'I am employed by Mr Elmer Ford to guard his son. There are -several parties after that boy, Mr Burns. Naturally he is a -considerable prize. Mr Ford would pay a large sum to get back his -only son if he were kidnapped. So it stands to reason he takes -precautions.' - -'Does Mr Abney know what you are?' - -'No, sir. Mr Abney thinks I am an ordinary butler. You are the -only person who knows, and I have only told you because you have -happened to catch me in a rather queer position for a butler to be -in. You will keep it to yourself, sir? It doesn't do for it to get -about. These things have to be done quietly. It would be bad for -the school if my presence here were advertised. The other parents -wouldn't like it. They would think that their sons were in danger, -you see. It would be disturbing for them. So if you will just -forget what I've been telling you, Mr Burns--' - -I assured him that I would. But I was very far from meaning it. If -there was one thing which I intended to bear in mind, it was the -fact that watchful eyes besides mine were upon that Little Nugget. - -The third and last of this chain of occurrences, the Episode of -the Genial Visitor, took place on the following day, and may be -passed over briefly. All that happened was that a well-dressed -man, who gave his name as Arthur Gordon, of Philadelphia, dropped -in unexpectedly to inspect the school. He apologized for not -having written to make an appointment, but explained that he was -leaving England almost immediately. He was looking for a school -for his sister's son, and, happening to meet his business -acquaintance, Mr Elmer Ford, in London, he had been recommended to -Mr Abney. He made himself exceedingly pleasant. He was a breezy, -genial man, who joked with Mr Abney, chaffed the boys, prodded the -Little Nugget in the ribs, to that overfed youth's discomfort, -made a rollicking tour of the house, in the course of which he -inspected Ogden's bedroom--in order, he told Mr Abney, to be able -to report conscientiously to his friend Ford that the son and heir -was not being pampered too much, and departed in a whirl of -good-humour, leaving every one enthusiastic over his charming -personality. His last words were that everything was thoroughly -satisfactory, and that he had learned all he wanted to know. - -Which, as was proved that same night, was the simple truth. - - - - -Chapter 4 - - -I - -I owed it to my colleague Glossop that I was in the centre of the -surprising things that occurred that night. By sheer weight of -boredom, Glossop drove me from the house, so that it came about -that, at half past nine, the time at which the affair began, I was -patrolling the gravel in front of the porch. - -It was the practice of the staff of Sanstead House School to -assemble after dinner in Mr Abney's study for coffee. The room was -called the study, but it was really more of a master's common -room. Mr Abney had a smaller sanctum of his own, reserved -exclusively for himself. - -On this particular night he went there early, leaving me alone -with Glossop. It is one of the drawbacks of the desert-island -atmosphere of a private school that everybody is always meeting -everybody else. To avoid a man for long is impossible. I had been -avoiding Glossop as long as I could, for I knew that he wanted to -corner me with a view to a heart-to-heart talk on Life Insurance. - -These amateur Life Insurance agents are a curious band. The world -is full of them. I have met them at country-houses, at seaside -hotels, on ships, everywhere; and it has always amazed me that -they should find the game worth the candle. What they add to their -incomes I do not know, but it cannot be very much, and the trouble -they have to take is colossal. Nobody loves them, and they must -see it; yet they persevere. Glossop, for instance, had been trying -to buttonhole me every time there was a five minutes' break in the -day's work. - -He had his chance now, and he did not mean to waste it. Mr Abney -had scarcely left the room when he began to exude pamphlets and -booklets at every pocket. - -I eyed him sourly, as he droned on about 'reactionable endowment', -'surrender-value', and 'interest accumulating on the tontine -policy', and tried, as I did so, to analyse the loathing I felt -for him. I came to the conclusion that it was partly due to his -pose of doing the whole thing from purely altruistic motives, -entirely for my good, and partly because he forced me to face the -fact that I was not always going to be young. In an abstract -fashion I had already realized that I should in time cease to be -thirty, but the way in which Glossop spoke of my sixty-fifth -birthday made me feel as if it was due tomorrow. He was a man with -a manner suggestive of a funeral mute suffering from suppressed -jaundice, and I had never before been so weighed down with a sense -of the inevitability of decay and the remorseless passage of time. -I could feel my hair whitening. - -A need for solitude became imperative; and, murmuring something -about thinking it over, I escaped from the room. - -Except for my bedroom, whither he was quite capable of following -me, I had no refuge but the grounds. I unbolted the front door and -went out. - -It was still freezing, and, though the stars shone, the trees grew -so closely about the house that it was too dark for me to see more -than a few feet in front of me. - -I began to stroll up and down. The night was wonderfully still. I -could hear somebody walking up the drive--one of the maids, I -supposed, returning from her evening out. I could even hear a bird -rustling in the ivy on the walls of the stables. - -I fell into a train of thought. I think my mind must still have -been under Glossop's gloom-breeding spell, for I was filled with a -sense of the infinite pathos of Life. What was the good of it all? -Why was a man given chances of happiness without the sense to -realize and use them? If Nature had made me so self-satisfied that -I had lost Audrey because of my self-satisfaction why had she not -made me so self-satisfied that I could lose her without a pang? -Audrey! It annoyed me that, whenever I was free for a moment from -active work, my thoughts should keep turning to her. It frightened -me, too. Engaged to Cynthia, I had no right to have such thoughts. - -Perhaps it was the mystery which hung about her that kept her in -my mind. I did not know where she was. I did not know how she -fared. I did not know what sort of a man it was whom she had -preferred to me. That, it struck me, was the crux of the matter. -She had vanished absolutely with another man whom I had never seen -and whose very name I did not know. I had been beaten by an unseen -foe. - -I was deep in a very slough of despond when suddenly things began -to happen. I might have known that Sanstead House would never -permit solitary brooding on Life for long. It was a place of -incident, not of abstract speculation. - -I had reached the end of my 'beat', and had stopped to relight my -pipe, when drama broke loose with the swift unexpectedness which -was characteristic of the place. The stillness of the night was -split by a sound which I could have heard in a gale and recognized -among a hundred conflicting noises. It was a scream, a shrill, -piercing squeal that did not rise to a crescendo, but started at -its maximum and held the note; a squeal which could only proceed -from one throat: the deafening war-cry of the Little Nugget. - -I had grown accustomed, since my arrival at Sanstead House, to a -certain quickening of the pace of life, but tonight events -succeeded one another with a rapidity which surprised me. A whole -cinematograph-drama was enacted during the space of time it takes -for a wooden match to burn. - -At the moment when the Little Nugget gave tongue, I had just -struck one, and I stood, startled into rigidity, holding it in the -air as if I had decided to constitute myself a sort of limelight -man to the performance. - -It cannot have been more than a few seconds later before some -person unknown nearly destroyed me. - -I was standing, holding my match and listening to the sounds of -confusion indoors, when this person, rounding the angle of the -house in a desperate hurry, emerged from the bushes and rammed me -squarely. - -He was a short man, or he must have crouched as he ran, for his -shoulder--a hard, bony shoulder--was precisely the same distance -from the ground as my solar plexus. In the brief impact which -ensued between the two, the shoulder had the advantage of being in -motion, while the solar plexus was stationary, and there was no -room for any shadow of doubt as to which had the worst of it. - -That the mysterious unknown was not unshaken by the encounter was -made clear by a sharp yelp of surprise and pain. He staggered. -What happened to him after that was not a matter of interest to -me. I gather that he escaped into the night. But I was too -occupied with my own affairs to follow his movements. - -Of all cures for melancholy introspection a violent blow in the -solar plexus is the most immediate. If Mr Corbett had any abstract -worries that day at Carson City, I fancy they ceased to occupy his -mind from the moment when Mr Fitzsimmons administered that historic -left jab. In my case the cure was instantaneous. I can remember -reeling across the gravel and falling in a heap and trying to -breathe and knowing that I should never again be able to, and -then for some minutes all interest in the affairs of this world -left me. - -How long it was before my breath returned, hesitatingly, like some -timid Prodigal Son trying to muster up courage to enter the old -home, I do not know; but it cannot have been many minutes, for the -house was only just beginning to disgorge its occupants as I sat -up. Disconnected cries and questions filled the air. Dim forms -moved about in the darkness. - -I had started to struggle to my feet, feeling very sick and -boneless, when it was borne in upon me that the sensations of this -remarkable night were not yet over. As I reached a sitting -position, and paused before adventuring further, to allow a wave -of nausea to pass, a hand was placed on my shoulder and a voice -behind me said, 'Don't move!' - - -II - -I was not in a condition to argue. Beyond a fleeting feeling that -a liberty was being taken with me and that I was being treated -unjustly, I do not remember resenting the command. I had no notion -who the speaker might be, and no curiosity. Breathing just then -had all the glamour of a difficult feat cleverly performed. I -concentrated my whole attention upon it. I was pleased, and -surprised, to find myself getting on so well. I remember having -much the same sensation when I first learned to ride a bicycle--a -kind of dazed feeling that I seemed to be doing it, but Heaven -alone knew how. - -A minute or so later, when I had leisure to observe outside -matters, I perceived that among the other actors in the drama -confusion still reigned. There was much scuttering about and much -meaningless shouting. Mr Abney's reedy tenor voice was issuing -directions, each of which reached a dizzier height of futility -than the last. Glossop was repeating over and over again the -words, 'Shall I telephone for the police?' to which nobody -appeared to pay the least attention. One or two boys were darting -about like rabbits and squealing unintelligibly. A female voice--I -think Mrs Attwell's--was saying, 'Can you see him?' - -Up to this point, my match, long since extinguished, had been the -only illumination the affair had received; but now somebody, who -proved to be White, the butler, came from the direction of the -stable-yard with a carriage-lamp. Every one seemed calmer and -happier for it. The boys stopped squealing, Mrs Attwell and -Glossop subsided, and Mr Abney said 'Ah!' in a self-satisfied -voice, as if he had directed this move and was congratulating -himself on the success with which it had been carried out. - -The whole strength of the company gathered round the light. - -'Thank you, White,' said Mr Abney. 'Excellent. I fear the -scoundrel has escaped.' - -'I suspect so, sir.' - -'This is a very remarkable occurrence, White.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'The man was actually in Master Ford's bedroom.' - -'Indeed, sir?' - -A shrill voice spoke. I recognized it as that of Augustus -Beckford, always to be counted upon to be in the centre of things -gathering information. - -'Sir, please, sir, what was up? Who was it, sir? Sir, was it a -burglar, sir? Have you ever met a burglar, sir? My father took me -to see Raffles in the holidays, sir. Do you think this chap was -like Raffles, sir? Sir--' - -'It was undoubtedly--' Mr Abney was beginning, when the identity -of the questioner dawned upon him, and for the first time he -realized that the drive was full of boys actively engaged in -catching their deaths of cold. His all-friends-here-let-us- -discuss-this-interesting-episode-fully manner changed. He became -the outraged schoolmaster. Never before had I heard him speak so -sharply to boys, many of whom, though breaking rules, were still -titled. - -'What are you boys doing out of bed? Go back to bed instantly. I -shall punish you most severely. I--' - -'Shall I telephone for the police?' asked Glossop. Disregarded. - -'I will not have this conduct. You will catch cold. This is -disgraceful. Ten bad marks! I shall punish you most severely if -you do not instantly--' - -A calm voice interrupted him. - -'Say!' - -The Little Nugget strolled easily into the circle of light. He was -wearing a dressing-gown, and in his hand was a smouldering -cigarette, from which he proceeded, before continuing his remarks, -to blow a cloud of smoke. - -'Say, I guess you're wrong. That wasn't any ordinary porch-climber.' - -The spectacle of his _bete noire_ wreathed in smoke, coming -on top of the emotions of the night, was almost too much for Mr -Abney. He gesticulated for a moment in impassioned silence, his -arms throwing grotesque shadows on the gravel. - -'How _dare_ you smoke, boy! How _dare_ you smoke that cigarette!' - -'It's the only one I've got,' responded the Little Nugget amiably. - -'I have spoken to you--I have warned you--Ten bad marks!--I will -not have--Fifteen bad marks!' - -The Little Nugget ignored the painful scene. He was smiling -quietly. - -'If you ask _me_,' he said, 'that guy was after something better -than plated spoons. Yes, sir! If you want my opinion, it was Buck -MacGinnis, or Chicago Ed., or one of those guys, and what he was -trailing was me. They're always at it. Buck had a try for me in the -fall of '07, and Ed.--' - -'Do you hear me? Will you return instantly--' - -'If you don't believe me I can show you the piece there was about -it in the papers. I've got a press-clipping album in my box. -Whenever there's a piece about me in the papers, I cut it out and -paste it into my album. If you'll come right along, I'll show you -the story about Buck now. It happened in Chicago, and he'd have -got away with me if it hadn't been--' - -'Twenty bad marks!' - -'Mr Abney!' - -It was the person standing behind me who spoke. Till now he or she -had remained a silent spectator, waiting, I suppose, for a lull in -the conversation. - -They jumped, all together, like a well-trained chorus. - -'Who is that?' cried Mr Abney. I could tell by the sound of his -voice that his nerves were on wires. 'Who was that who spoke?' - -'Shall I telephone for the police?' asked Glossop. Ignored. - -'I am Mrs Sheridan, Mr Abney. You were expecting me to-night.' - -'Mrs Sheridan? Mrs Sher--I expected you in a cab. I expected you -in--ah--in fact, a cab.' - -'I walked.' - -I had a curious sensation of having heard the voice before. When -she had told me not to move, she had spoken in a whisper--or, to -me, in my dazed state, it had sounded like a whisper--but now she -was raising her voice, and there was a note in it that seemed -familiar. It stirred some chord in my memory, and I waited to hear -it again. - -When it came it brought the same sensation, but nothing more -definite. It left me groping for the clue. - -'Here is one of the men, Mr Abney.' - -There was a profound sensation. Boys who had ceased to squeal, -squealed with fresh vigour. Glossop made his suggestion about the -telephone with a new ring of hope in his voice. Mrs Attwell -shrieked. They made for us in a body, boys and all, White leading -with the lantern. I was almost sorry for being compelled to -provide an anticlimax. - -Augustus Beckford was the first to recognize me, and I expect he -was about to ask me if I liked sitting on the gravel on a frosty -night, or what gravel was made of, when Mr Abney spoke. - -'Mr Burns! What--dear me!--_what_ are you doing there?' - -'Perhaps Mr Burns can give us some information as to where the man -went, sir,' suggested White. - -'On everything except that,' I said, 'I'm a mine of information. I -haven't the least idea where he went. All I know about him is that -he has a shoulder like the ram of a battleship, and that he -charged me with it.' - -As I was speaking, I thought I heard a little gasp behind me. I -turned. I wanted to see this woman who stirred my memory with her -voice. But the rays of the lantern did not fall on her, and she -was a shapeless blur in the darkness. Somehow I felt that she was -looking intently at me. - -I resumed my narrative. - -'I was lighting my pipe when I heard a scream--' A chuckle came -from the group behind the lantern. - -'I screamed,' said the Little Nugget. 'You bet I screamed! What -would _you_ do if you woke up in the dark and found a strong-armed -roughneck prising you out of bed as if you were a clam? He tried to -get his hand over my mouth, but he only connected with my forehead, -and I'd got going before he could switch. I guess I threw a scare -into that gink!' - -He chuckled again, reminiscently, and drew at his cigarette. - -'How dare you smoke! Throw away that cigarette!' cried Mr Abney, -roused afresh by the red glow. - -'Forget it!' advised the Little Nugget tersely. - -'And then,' I said, 'somebody whizzed out from nowhere and hit me. -And after that I didn't seem to care much about him or anything -else.' I spoke in the direction of my captor. She was still -standing outside the circle of light. 'I expect you can tell us -what happened, Mrs Sheridan?' - -I did not think that her information was likely to be of any -practical use, but I wanted to make her speak again. - -Her first words were enough. I wondered how I could ever have been -in doubt. I knew the voice now. It was one which I had not heard -for five years, but one which I could never forget if I lived for -ever. - -'Somebody ran past me.' I hardly heard her. My heart was pounding, -and a curious dizziness had come over me. I was grappling with the -incredible. 'I think he went into the bushes.' - -I heard Glossop speak, and gathered from Mr Abney's reply; that he -had made his suggestion about the telephone once more. - -'I think that will be--ah--unnecessary, Mr Glossop. The man has -undoubtedly--ah--made good his escape. I think we had all better -return to the house.' He turned to the dim figure beside me. 'Ah, -Mrs Sheridan, you must be tired after your journey and the--ah unusual -excitement. Mrs Attwell will show you where you--in fact, your room.' - -In the general movement White must have raised the lamp or stepped -forward, for the rays shifted. The figure beside me was no longer -dim, but stood out sharp and clear in the yellow light. - -I was aware of two large eyes looking into mine as, in the grey -London morning two weeks before, they had looked from a faded -photograph. - - - - -Chapter 5 - - -Of all the emotions which kept me awake that night, a vague -discomfort and a feeling of resentment against Fate more than -against any individual, were the two that remained with me next -morning. Astonishment does not last. The fact of Audrey and myself -being under the same roof after all these years had ceased to -amaze me. It was a minor point, and my mind shelved it in order to -deal with the one thing that really mattered, the fact that she -had come back into my life just when I had definitely, as I -thought, put her out of it. - -My resentment deepened. Fate had played me a wanton trick. Cynthia -trusted me. If I were weak, I should not be the only one to -suffer. And something told me that I should be weak. How could I -hope to be strong, tortured by the thousand memories which the -sight of her would bring back to me? - -But I would fight, I told myself. I would not yield easily. I -promised that to my self-respect, and was rewarded with a certain -glow of excitement. I felt defiant. I wanted to test myself at -once. - -My opportunity came after breakfast. She was standing on the -gravel in front of the house, almost, in fact, on the spot where -we had met the night before. She looked up as she heard my step, -and I saw that her chin had that determined tilt which, in the -days of our engagement, I had noticed often without attaching any -particular significance to it. Heavens, what a ghastly lump of -complacency I must have been in those days! A child, I thought, if -he were not wrapped up in the contemplation of his own magnificence, -could read its meaning. - -It meant war, and I was glad of it. I wanted war. - -'Good morning,' I said. - -'Good morning.' - -There was a pause. I took the opportunity to collect my thoughts. - -I looked at her curiously. Five years had left their mark on her, -but entirely for the good. She had an air of quiet strength which -I had never noticed in her before. It may have been there in the -old days, but I did not think so. It was, I felt certain, a later -development. She gave the impression of having been through much -and of being sure of herself. - -In appearance she had changed amazingly little. She looked as -small and slight and trim as ever she had done. She was a little -paler, I thought, and the Irish eyes were older and a shade -harder; but that was all. - -I awoke with a start to the fact that I was staring at her. A -slight flush had crept into her pale cheeks. - -'Don't!' she said suddenly, with a little gesture of irritation. - -The word and the gesture killed, as if they had been a blow, a -kind of sentimental tenderness which had been stealing over me. - -'What are you doing here?' I asked. - -She was silent. - -'Please don't think I want to pry into your affairs,' I said -viciously. 'I was only interested in the coincidence that we -should meet here like this.' - -She turned to me impulsively. Her face had lost its hard look. - -'Oh, Peter,' she said, 'I'm sorry. I _am_ sorry.' - -It was my chance, and I snatched at it with a lack of chivalry -which I regretted almost immediately. But I was feeling bitter, -and bitterness makes a man do cheap things. - -'Sorry?' I said, politely puzzled. 'Why?' - -She looked taken aback, as I hoped she would. - -'For--for what happened.' - -'My dear Audrey! Anybody would have made the same mistake. I don't -wonder you took me for a burglar.' - -'I didn't mean that. I meant--five years ago.' - -I laughed. I was not feeling like laughter at the moment, but I -did my best, and had the satisfaction of seeing that it jarred -upon her. - -'Surely you're not worrying yourself about that?' I said. I -laughed again. Very jovial and debonair I was that winter morning. - -The brief moment in which we might have softened towards each -other was over. There was a glitter in her blue eyes which told me -that it was once more war between us. - -'I thought you would get over it,' she said. - -'Well,' I said, 'I was only twenty-five. One's heart doesn't break -at twenty-five.' - -'I don't think yours would ever be likely to break, Peter.' - -'Is that a compliment, or otherwise?' - -'You would probably think it a compliment. I meant that you were -not human enough to be heart-broken.' - -'So that's your idea of a compliment!' - -'I said I thought it was probably yours.' - -'I must have been a curious sort of man five years ago, if I gave -you that impression.' - -'You were.' - -She spoke in a meditative voice, as if, across the years, she were -idly inspecting some strange species of insect. The attitude -annoyed me. I could look, myself, with a detached eye at the man I -had once been, but I still retained a sort of affection for him, -and I felt piqued. - -'I suppose you looked on me as a kind of ogre in those days?' I -said. - -'I suppose I did.' - -There was a pause. - -'I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,' she said. And that was the -most galling part of it. Mine was an attitude of studied -offensiveness. I did want to hurt her feelings. But hers, it -seemed to me, was no pose. She really had had--and, I suppose, -still retained--a genuine horror of me. The struggle was unequal. - -'You were very kind,' she went on, 'sometimes--when you happened -to think of it.' - -Considered as the best she could find to say of me, it was not an -eulogy. - -'Well,' I said, 'we needn't discuss what I was or did five years -ago. Whatever I was or did, you escaped. Let's think of the -present. What are we going to do about this?' - -'You think the situation's embarrassing?' - -'I do.' - -'One of us ought to go, I suppose,' she said doubtfully. - -'Exactly.' - -'Well, I can't go.' - -'Nor can I.' - -'I have business here.' - -'Obviously, so have I.' - -'It's absolutely necessary that I should be here.' - -'And that I should.' - -She considered me for a moment. - -'Mrs Attwell told me that you were one of the assistant-masters -at the school.' - -'I am acting as assistant-master. I am supposed to be learning the -business.' - -She hesitated. - -'Why?' she said. - -'Why not?' - -'But--but--you used to be very well off.' - -'I'm better off now. I'm working.' - -She was silent for a moment. - -'Of course it's impossible for you to leave. You couldn't, could -you?' - -'No.' - -'I can't either.' - -'Then I suppose we must face the embarrassment.' - -'But why must it be embarrassing? You said yourself you had--got -over it.' - -'Absolutely. I am engaged to be married.' - -She gave a little start. She drew a pattern on the gravel with her -foot before she spoke. - -'I congratulate you,' she said at last. - -'Thank you.' - -'I hope you will be very happy.' - -'I'm sure I shall.' - -She relapsed into silence. It occurred to me that, having posted -her thoroughly in my affairs, I was entitled to ask about hers. - -'How in the world did you come to be here?' I said. - -'It's rather a long story. After my husband died--' - -'Oh!' I exclaimed, startled. - -'Yes; he died three years ago.' - -She spoke in a level voice, with a ring of hardness in it, for -which I was to learn the true reason later. At the time it seemed -to me due to resentment at having to speak of the man she had -loved to me, whom she disliked, and my bitterness increased. - -'I have been looking after myself for a long time.' - -'In England?' - -'In America. We went to New York directly we--directly I had -written to you. I have been in America ever since. I only returned -to England a few weeks ago.' - -'But what brought you to Sanstead?' - -'Some years ago I got to know Mr Ford, the father of the little -boy who is at the school. He recommended me to Mr Abney, who -wanted somebody to help with the school.' - -'And you are dependent on your work? I mean--forgive me if I am -personal--Mr Sheridan did not--' - -'He left no money at all.' - -'Who was he?' I burst out. I felt that the subject of the dead man -was one which it was painful for her to talk about, at any rate to -me; but the Sheridan mystery had vexed me for five years, and I -thirsted to know something of this man who had dynamited my life -without ever appearing in it. - -'He was an artist, a friend of my father.' - -I wanted to hear more. I wanted to know what he looked like, how -he spoke, how he compared with me in a thousand ways; but it was -plain that she would not willingly be communicative about him; -and, with a feeling of resentment, I gave her her way and -suppressed my curiosity. - -'So your work here is all you have?' I said. - -'Absolutely all. And, if it's the same with you, well, here we -are!' - -'Here we are!' I echoed. 'Exactly.' - -'We must try and make it as easy for each other as we can,' she -said. - -'Of course.' - -She looked at me in that curious, wide-eyed way of hers. - -'You have got thinner, Peter,' she said. - -'Have I?' I said. 'Suffering, I suppose, or exercise.' - -Her eyes left my face. I saw her bite her lip. - -'You hate me,' she said abruptly. 'You've been hating me all these -years. Well, I don't wonder.' - -She turned and began to walk slowly away, and as she did so a -sense of the littleness of the part I was playing came over me. -Ever since our talk had begun I had been trying to hurt her, -trying to take a petty revenge on her--for what? All that had -happened five years ago had been my fault. I could not let her go -like this. I felt unutterably mean. - -'Audrey!' I called. - -She stopped. I went to her. - -'Audrey!' I said, 'you're wrong. If there's anybody I hate, it's -myself. I just want to tell you I understand.' - -Her lips parted, but she did not speak. - -'I understand just what made you do it,' I went on. 'I can see now -the sort of man I was in those days.' - -'You're saying that to--to help me,' she said in a low voice. - -'No. I have felt like that about it for years.' - -'I treated you shamefully.' - -'Nothing of the kind. There's a certain sort of man who badly -needs a--jolt, and he has to get it sooner or later. It happened -that you gave me mine, but that wasn't your fault. I was bound to -get it--somehow.' I laughed. 'Fate was waiting for me round the -corner. Fate wanted something to hit me with. You happened to be -the nearest thing handy.' - -'I'm sorry, Peter.' - -'Nonsense. You knocked some sense into me. That's all you did. -Every man needs education. Most men get theirs in small doses, so -that they hardly know they are getting it at all. My money kept me -from getting mine that way. By the time I met you there was a -great heap of back education due to me, and I got it in a lump. -That's all.' - -'You're generous.' - -'Nothing of the kind. It's only that I see things clearer than I -did. I was a pig in those days.' - -'You weren't!' - -'I was. Well, we won't quarrel about it.' - -Inside the house the bell rang for breakfast. We turned. As I drew -back to let her go in, she stopped. - -'Peter,' she said. - -She began to speak quickly. - -'Peter, let's be sensible. Why should we let this embarrass us, -this being together here? Can't we just pretend that we're two old -friends who parted through a misunderstanding, and have come -together again, with all the misunderstanding cleared away--friends -again? Shall we?' - -She held out her hand. She was smiling, but her eyes were grave. - -'Old friends, Peter?' - -I took her hand. - -'Old friends,' I said. - -And we went in to breakfast. On the table, beside my plate, was -lying a letter from Cynthia. - - - - -Chapter 6 - - -I - -I give the letter in full. It was written from the s.y. _Mermaid_, -lying in Monaco Harbour. - -MY DEAR PETER, Where is Ogden? We have been expecting him every -day. Mrs Ford is worrying herself to death. She keeps asking me if -I have any news, and it is very tiresome to have to keep telling -her that I have not heard from you. Surely, with the opportunities -you must get every day, you can manage to kidnap him. Do be quick. -We are relying on you.--In haste, - CYNTHIA. - -I read this brief and business-like communication several times -during the day; and after dinner that night, in order to meditate -upon it in solitude, I left the house and wandered off in the -direction of the village. - -I was midway between house and village when I became aware that I -was being followed. The night was dark, and the wind moving in the -tree-tops emphasized the loneliness of the country road. Both time -and place were such as made it peculiarly unpleasant to hear -stealthy footsteps on the road behind me. - -Uncertainty in such cases is the unnerving thing. I turned -sharply, and began to walk back on tiptoe in the direction from -which I had come. - -I had not been mistaken. A moment later a dark figure loomed up -out of the darkness, and the exclamation which greeted me, as I -made my presence known, showed that I had taken him by surprise. - -There was a momentary pause. I expected the man, whoever he might -be, to run, but he held his ground. Indeed, he edged forward. - -'Get back!' I said, and allowed my stick to rasp suggestively on -the road before raising it in readiness for any sudden development. -It was as well that he should know it was there. - -The hint seemed to wound rather than frighten him. - -'Aw, cut out the rough stuff, bo,' he said reproachfully in a -cautious, husky undertone. 'I ain't goin' to start anything.' - -I had an impression that I had heard the voice before, but I could -not place it. - -'What are you following me for?' I demanded. 'Who are you?' - -'Say, I want a talk wit youse. I took a slant at youse under de -lamp-post back dere, an' I seen it was you, so I tagged along. -Say, I'm wise to your game, sport.' - -I had identified him by this time. Unless there were two men in -the neighbourhood of Sanstead who hailed from the Bowery, this -must be the man I had seen at the 'Feathers' who had incurred the -disapproval of Miss Benjafield. - -'I haven't the faintest idea what you mean,' I said. 'What is my -game?' - -His voice became reproachful again. - -'Ah chee!' he protested. 'Quit yer kiddin'! What was youse -rubberin' around de house for last night if you wasn't trailin' de -kid?' - -'Was it you who ran into me last night?' I asked. - -'Gee! I fought it was a tree. I came near takin' de count.' - -'I did take it. You seemed in a great hurry.' - -'Hell!' said the man simply, and expectorated. - -'Say,' he resumed, having delivered this criticism on that -stirring episode, dat's a great kid, dat Nugget. I fought it was a -Black Hand soup explosion when he cut loose. But, say, let's don't -waste time. We gotta get together about dat kid.' - -'Certainly, if you wish it. What do you happen to mean?' - -'Aw, quit yer kiddin'!' He expectorated again. He seemed to be a -man who could express the whole gamut of emotions by this simple -means. 'I know you!' - -'Then you have the advantage of me, though I believe I remember -seeing you before. Weren't you at the "Feathers" one Wednesday -evening, singing something about a dog?' - -'Sure. Dat was me.' - -'What do you mean by saying that you know me?' - -'Aw, quit yer kiddin', Sam!' - -There was, it seemed to me, a reluctantly admiring note in his -voice. - -'Tell me, who do you think I am?' I asked patiently. - -'Ahr ghee! You can't string me, sport. Smooth Sam Fisher, is who -you are, bo. I know you.' - -I was too surprised to speak. Verily, some have greatness thrust -upon them. - -'I hain't never seen youse, Sam,' he continued, 'but I know it's -you. And I'll tell youse how I doped it out. To begin with, there -ain't but you and your bunch and me and my bunch dat knows de -Little Nugget's on dis side at all. Dey sneaked him out of New -York mighty slick. And I heard that you had come here after him. -So when I runs into a guy dat's trailin' de kid down here, well, -who's it going to be if it ain't youse? And when dat guy talks -like a dude, like they all say you do, well, who's it going to be -if it ain't youse? So quit yer kiddin', Sam, and let's get down to -business.' - -'Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr Buck MacGinnis?' I said. I -felt convinced that this could be no other than that celebrity. - -'Dat's right. Dere's no need to keep up anyt'ing wit me, Sam. -We're bote on de same trail, so let's get down to it.' - -'One moment,' I said. 'Would it surprise you to hear that my name -is Burns, and that I am a master at the school?' - -He expectorated admirably. - -'Hell, no!' he said. 'Gee, it's just what you would be, Sam. I -always heard youse had been one of dese rah-rah boys oncest. Say, -it's mighty smart of youse to be a perfessor. You're right in on -de ground floor.' - -His voice became appealing. - -'Say, Sam, don't be a hawg. Let's go fifty-fifty in dis deal. My -bunch and me has come a hell of a number of miles on dis -proposition, and dere ain't no need for us to fall scrappin' over -it. Dere's plenty for all of us. Old man Ford'll cough up enough -for every one, and dere won't be any fuss. Let's sit in togedder -on dis nuggett'ing. It ain't like as if it was an ornery two-by-four -deal. I wouldn't ask youse if it wasn't big enough fir de whole -bunch of us.' - -As I said nothing, he proceeded. - -'It ain't square, Sam, to take advantage of your having education. -If it was a square fight, and us bote wit de same chance, I -wouldn't say; but you bein' a dude perfessor and gettin' right -into de place like dat ain't right. Say, don't be a hawg, Sam. -Don't swipe it all. Fifty-fifty! Does dat go?' - -'I don't know,' I said. 'You had better ask the real Sam. Good -night.' - -I walked past him and made for the school gates at my best pace. -He trotted after me, pleading. - -'Sam, give us a quarter, then.' - -I walked on. - -'Sam, don't be a hawg!' - -He broke into a run. - -'Sam!' His voice lost its pleading tone and rasped menacingly. - -'Gee, if I had me canister, youse wouldn't be so flip! Listen -here, you big cheese! You t'ink youse is de only t'ing in sight, -huh? Well, we ain't done yet. You'll see yet. We'll fix you! Youse -had best watch out.' - -I stopped and turned on him. 'Look here, you fool,' I cried. 'I -tell you I am not Sam Fisher. Can't you understand that you have -got hold of the wrong man? My name is Burns--_Burns_.' - -He expectorated--scornfully this time. He was a man slow by nature -to receive ideas, but slower to rid himself of one that had -contrived to force its way into what he probably called his brain. -He had decided on the evidence that I was Smooth Sam Fisher, and -no denials on my part were going to shake his belief. He looked on -them merely as so many unsportsmanlike quibbles prompted by greed. - -'Tell it to Sweeney!' was the form in which he crystallized his -scepticism. - -'May be you'll say youse ain't trailin' de Nugget, huh?' - -It was a home-thrust. If truth-telling has become a habit, one -gets slowly off the mark when the moment arrives for the prudent -lie. Quite against my will, I hesitated. Observant Mr MacGinnis -perceived my hesitation and expectorated triumphantly. - -'Ah ghee!' he remarked. And then with a sudden return to ferocity, -'All right, you Sam, you wait! We'll fix you, and fix you good! -See? Dat goes. You t'ink youse kin put it across us, huh? All -right, you'll get yours. You wait!' - -And with these words he slid off into the night. From somewhere in -the murky middle distance came a scornful 'Hawg!' and he was gone, -leaving me with a settled conviction that, while I had frequently -had occasion, since my expedition to Sanstead began, to describe -affairs as complex, their complexity had now reached its height. -With a watchful Pinkerton's man within, and a vengeful gang of -rivals without, Sanstead House seemed likely to become an -unrestful place for a young kidnapper with no previous experience. - -The need for swift action had become imperative. - - -II - -White, the butler, looking singularly unlike a detective--which, I -suppose, is how a detective wants to look--was taking the air on -the football field when I left the house next morning for a -before-breakfast stroll. The sight of him filled me with a desire -for first-hand information on the subject of the man Mr MacGinnis -supposed me to be and also of Mr MacGinnis himself. I wanted to be -assured that my friend Buck, despite appearances, was a placid -person whose bark was worse than his bite. - -White's manner, at our first conversational exchanges, was -entirely that of the butler. From what I came to know of him -later, I think he took an artistic pride in throwing himself into -whatever role he had to assume. - -At the mention of Smooth Sam Fisher, however, his manner peeled -off him like a skin, and he began to talk as himself, a racy and -vigorous self vastly different from the episcopal person he -thought it necessary to be when on duty. - -'White,' I said, 'do you know anything of Smooth Sam Fisher?' - -He stared at me. I suppose the question, led up to by no previous -remark, was unusual. - -'I met a gentleman of the name of Buck MacGinnis--he was our -visitor that night, by the way--and he was full of Sam. Do you -know him?' - -'Buck?' - -'Either of them.' - -'Well, I've never seen Buck, but I know all about him. There's -pepper to Buck.' - -'So I should imagine. And Sam?' - -'You may take it from me that there's more pepper to Sam's little -finger than there is to Buck's whole body. Sam could make Buck -look like the last run of shad, if it came to a showdown. Buck's -just a common roughneck. Sam's an educated man. He's got brains.' - -'So I gathered. Well, I'm glad to hear you speak so well of him, -because that's who I'm supposed to be.' - -'How's that?' - -'Buck MacGinnis insists that I am Smooth Sam Fisher. Nothing I can -say will shift him.' - -White stared. He had very bright humorous brown eyes. Then he -began to laugh. - -'Well, what do you know about that?' he exclaimed. 'Wouldn't that -jar you!' - -'It would. I may say it did. He called me a hog for wanting to -keep the Little Nugget to myself, and left threatening to "fix -me". What would you say the verb "to fix" signified in Mr -MacGinnis's vocabulary?' - -White was still chuckling quietly to himself. - -'He's a wonder!' he observed. 'Can you beat it? Taking you for -Smooth Sam!' - -'He said he had never seen Smooth Sam. Have you?' - -'Lord, yes.' - -'Does he look like me?' - -'Not a bit.' - -'Do you think he's over here in England?' - -'Sam? I know he is.' - -'Then Buck MacGinnis was right?' - -'Dead right, as far as Sam being on the trail goes. Sam's after -the Nugget to get him this time. He's tried often enough before, -but we've been too smart for him. This time he allows he's going -to bring it off.' - -'Then why haven't we seen anything of him? Buck MacGinnis seems to -be monopolizing the kidnapping industry in these parts.' - -'Oh, Sam'll show up when he feels good and ready. You can take it -from me that Sam knows what he is doing. Sam's a special pet of -mine. I don't give a flip for Buck MacGinnis.' - -'I wish I had your cheery disposition! To me Buck MacGinnis seems -a pretty important citizen. I wonder what he meant by "fix"?' - -White, however, declined to leave the subject of Buck's more -gifted rival. - -'Sam's a college man, you know. That gives him a pull. He has -brains, and can use them.' - -'That was one of the points on which Buck MacGinnis reproached me. -He said it was not fair to use my superior education.' - -He laughed. - -'Buck's got no sense. That's why you find him carrying on like a -porch-climber. It's his only notion of how to behave when he wants -to do a job. And that's why there's only one man to keep your eye -on in this thing of the Little Nugget, and that's Sam. I wish you -could get to know Sam. You'd like him.' - -'You seem to look on him as a personal friend. I certainly don't -like Buck.' - -'Oh, Buck!' said White scornfully. - -We turned towards the house as the sound of the bell came to us -across the field. - -'Then you think we may count on Sam's arrival, sooner or later, as -a certainty?' I said. - -'Surest thing you know.' - -'You will have a busy time.' - -'All in the day's work.' - -'I suppose I ought to look at it in that way. But I do wish I knew -exactly what Buck meant by "fix".' - -White at last condescended to give his mind to the trivial point. - -'I guess he'll try to put one over on you with a sand-bag,' he -said carelessly. He seemed to face the prospect with calm. - -'A sand-bag, eh?' I said. 'It sounds exciting.' - -'And feels it. I know. I've had some.' - -I parted from him at the door. As a comforter he had failed to -qualify. He had not eased my mind to the slightest extent. - - - - -Chapter 7 - - -Looking at it now I can see that the days which followed Audrey's -arrival at Sanstead marked the true beginning of our acquaintanceship. -Before, during our engagement, we had been strangers, artificially -tied together, and she had struggled against the chain. But now, -for the first time, we were beginning to know each other, and were -discovering that, after all, we had much in common. - -It did not alarm me, this growing feeling of comradeship. Keenly -on the alert as I was for the least sign that would show that I -was in danger of weakening in my loyalty to Cynthia, I did not -detect one in my friendliness for Audrey. On the contrary, I was -hugely relieved, for it seemed to me that the danger was past. I -had not imagined it possible that I could ever experience towards -her such a tranquil emotion as this easy friendliness. For the -last five years my imagination had been playing round her memory, -until I suppose I had built up in my mind some almost superhuman -image, some goddess. What I was passing through now, of course, -though I was unaware of it, was the natural reaction from that -state of mind. Instead of the goddess, I had found a companionable -human being, and I imagined that I had effected the change myself, -and by sheer force of will brought Audrey into a reasonable -relation to the scheme of things. - -I suppose a not too intelligent moth has much the same views with -regard to the lamp. His last thought, as he enters the flame, is -probably one of self-congratulation that he has arranged his -dealings with it on such a satisfactory commonsense basis. - -And then, when I was feeling particularly safe and complacent, -disaster came. - -The day was Wednesday, and my 'afternoon off', but the rain was -driving against the windows, and the attractions of billiards with -the marker at the 'Feathers' had not proved sufficient to make me -face the two-mile walk in the storm. I had settled myself in the -study. There was a noble fire burning in the grate, and the -darkness lit by the glow of the coals, the dripping of the rain, -the good behaviour of my pipe, and the reflection that, as I sat -there, Glossop was engaged downstairs in wrestling with my class, -combined to steep me in a meditative peace. Audrey was playing the -piano in the drawing-room. The sound came to me faintly through -the closed doors. I recognized what she was playing. I wondered if -the melody had the same associations for her that it had for me. - -The music stopped. I heard the drawing-room door open. She came -into the study. - -'I didn't know there was anyone here,' she said. 'I'm frozen. The -drawing-room fire's out.' - -'Come and sit down,' I said. 'You don't mind the smoke?' - -I drew a chair up to the fire for her, feeling, as I did so, a -certain pride. Here I was, alone with her in the firelight, and my -pulse was regular and my brain cool. I had a momentary vision of -myself as the Strong Man, the strong, quiet man with the iron grip -on his emotions. I was pleased with myself. - -She sat for some minutes, gazing into the fire. Little spurts of -flame whistled comfortably in the heart of the black-red coals. -Outside the storm shrieked faintly, and flurries of rain dashed -themselves against the window. - -'It's very nice in here,' she said at last. - -'Peaceful.' - -I filled my pipe and re-lit it. Her eyes, seen for an instant in -the light of the match, looked dreamy. - -'I've been sitting here listening to you,' I said. 'I liked that -last thing you played.' - -'You always did.' - -'You remember that? Do you remember one evening--no, you -wouldn't.' - -'Which evening?' - -'Oh, you wouldn't remember. It's only one particular evening when -you played that thing. It sticks in my mind. It was at your -father's studio.' - -She looked up quickly. - -'We went out afterwards and sat in the park.' - -I sat up thrilled. - -'A man came by with a dog,' I said. - -'Two dogs.' - -'One surely!' - -'Two. A bull-dog and a fox-terrier.' - -'I remember the bull-dog, but--by Jove, you're right. A fox-terrier -with a black patch over his left eye.' - -'Right eye.' - -'Right eye. They came up to us, and you--' - -'Gave them chocolates.' - -I sank back slowly in my chair. - -'You've got a wonderful memory,' I said. - -She bent over the fire without speaking. The rain rattled on the -window. - -'So you still like my playing, Peter?' - -'I like it better than ever; there's something in it now that I -don't believe there used to be. I can't describe it--something--' - -'I think it's knowledge, Peter,' she said quietly. 'Experience. -I'm five years older than I was when I used to play to you before, -and I've seen a good deal in those five years. It may not be -altogether pleasant seeing life, but--well, it makes you play the -piano better. Experience goes in at the heart and comes out at the -finger-tips.' - -It seemed to me that she spoke a little bitterly. - -'Have you had a bad time, Audrey, these last years?' I said. - -'Pretty bad.' - -'I'm sorry.' - -'I'm not--altogether. I've learned a lot.' - -She was silent again, her eyes fixed on the fire. - -'What are you thinking about?' I said. - -'Oh, a great many things.' - -'Pleasant?' - -'Mixed. The last thing I thought about was pleasant. That was, -that I am very lucky to be doing the work I am doing now. Compared -with some of the things I have done--' - -She shivered. - -'I wish you would tell me about those years, Audrey,' I said. -'What were some of the things you did?' - -She leaned back in her chair and shaded her face from the fire -with a newspaper. Her eyes were in the shadow. - -'Well, let me see. I was a nurse for some time at the Lafayette -Hospital in New York.' - -'That's hard work?' - -'Horribly hard. I had to give it up after a while. But--it teaches -you.... You learn.... You learn--all sorts of things. Realities. -How much of your own trouble is imagination. You get real trouble -in a hospital. You get it thrown at you.' - -I said nothing. I was feeling--I don't know why--a little -uncomfortable, a little at a disadvantage, as one feels in the -presence of some one bigger than oneself. - -'Then I was a waitress.' - -'A waitress?' - -'I tell you I did everything. I was a waitress, and a very bad -one. I broke plates. I muddled orders. Finally I was very rude to -a customer and I went on to try something else. I forget what came -next. I think it was the stage. I travelled for a year with a -touring company. That was hard work, too, but I liked it. After -that came dressmaking, which was harder and which I hated. And -then I had my first stroke of real luck.' - -'What was that?' - -'I met Mr Ford.' - -'How did that happen?' - -'You wouldn't remember a Miss Vanderley, an American girl who was -over in London five or six years ago? My father taught her -painting. She was very rich, but she was wild at that time to be -Bohemian. I think that's why she chose Father as a teacher. Well, -she was always at the studio, and we became great friends, and one -day, after all these things I have been telling you of, I thought -I would write to her, and see if she could not find me something -to do. She was a _dear_.' Her voice trembled, and she lowered -the newspaper till her whole face was hidden. 'She wanted me to -come to their home and live on her for ever, but I couldn't have -that. I told her I must work. So she sent me to Mr Ford, whom the -Vanderleys knew very well, and I became Ogden's governess.' - -'Great Scott!' I cried. 'What!' - -She laughed rather shakily. - -'I don't think I was a very good governess. I knew next to -nothing. I ought to have been having a governess myself. But I -managed somehow.' - -'But Ogden?' I said. 'That little fiend, didn't he worry the life -out of you?' - -'Oh, I had luck there again. He happened to take a mild liking to -me, and he was as good as gold--for him; that's to say, if I -didn't interfere with him too much, and I didn't. I was horribly -weak; he let me alone. It was the happiest time I had had for -ages.' - -'And when he came here, you came too, as a sort of ex-governess, -to continue exerting your moral influence over him?' - -She laughed. - -'More or less that.' - -We sat in silence for a while, and then she put into words the -thought which was in both our minds. - -'How odd it seems, you and I sitting together chatting like this, -Peter, after all--all these years.' - -'Like a dream!' - -'Just like a dream ... I'm so glad.... You don't know how I've -hated myself sometimes for--for--' - -'Audrey! You mustn't talk like that. Don't let's think of it. -Besides, it was my fault.' - -She shook her head. - -'Well, put it that we didn't understand one another.' - -She nodded slowly. - -'No, we didn't understand one another.' - -'But we do now,' I said. 'We're friends, Audrey.' - -She did not answer. For a long time we sat in silence. And then the -newspaper must have moved--a gleam from the fire fell upon her face, -lighting up her eyes; and at the sight something in me began to -throb, like a drum warning a city against danger. The next moment -the shadow had covered them again. - -I sat there, tense, gripping the arms of my chair. I was tingling. -Something was happening to me. I had a curious sensation of being -on the threshold of something wonderful and perilous. - -From downstairs there came the sound of boys' voices. Work was -over, and with it this talk by the firelight. In a few minutes -somebody, Glossop, or Mr Abney, would be breaking in on our -retreat. - -We both rose, and then--it happened. She must have tripped in the -darkness. She stumbled forward, her hand caught at my coat, and -she was in my arms. - -It was a thing of an instant. She recovered herself, moved to the -door, and was gone. - -But I stood where I was, motionless, aghast at the revelation -which had come to me in that brief moment. It was the physical -contact, the feel of her, warm and alive, that had shattered for -ever that flimsy structure of friendship which I had fancied so -strong. I had said to Love, 'Thus far, and no farther', and Love -had swept over me, the more powerful for being checked. The time -of self-deception was over. I knew myself. - - - - -Chapter 8 - - -I - -That Buck MacGinnis was not the man to let the grass grow under -his feet in a situation like the present one, I would have -gathered from White's remarks if I had not already done so from -personal observation. The world is divided into dreamers and men -of action. From what little I had seen of him I placed Buck -MacGinnis in the latter class. Every day I expected him to act, -and was agreeably surprised as each twenty-four hours passed and -left me still unfixed. But I knew the hour would come, and it did. - -I looked for frontal attack from Buck, not subtlety; but, when the -attack came, it was so excessively frontal that my chief emotion -was a sort of paralysed amazement. It seemed incredible that such -peculiarly Wild Western events could happen in peaceful England, -even in so isolated a spot as Sanstead House. - -It had been one of those interminable days which occur only at -schools. A school, more than any other institution, is dependent -on the weather. Every small boy rises from his bed of a morning -charged with a definite quantity of devilry; and this, if he is to -sleep the sound sleep of health, he has got to work off somehow -before bedtime. That is why the summer term is the one a master -longs for, when the intervals between classes can be spent in the -open. There is no pleasanter sight for an assistant-master at a -private school than that of a number of boys expending their venom -harmlessly in the sunshine. - -On this particular day, snow had begun to fall early in the -morning, and, while his pupils would have been only too delighted -to go out and roll in it by the hour, they were prevented from -doing so by Mr Abney's strict orders. No schoolmaster enjoys -seeing his pupils running risks of catching cold, and just then Mr -Abney was especially definite on the subject. The Saturnalia which -had followed Mr MacGinnis' nocturnal visit to the school had had -the effect of giving violent colds to three lords, a baronet, and -the younger son of an honourable. And, in addition to that, Mr -Abney himself, his penetrating tenor changed to a guttural croak, -was in his bed looking on the world with watering eyes. His views, -therefore, on playing in the snow as an occupation for boys were -naturally prejudiced. - -The result was that Glossop and I had to try and keep order among -a mob of small boys, none of whom had had any chance of working -off his superfluous energy. How Glossop fared I can only imagine. -Judging by the fact that I, who usually kept fair order without -excessive effort, was almost overwhelmed, I should fancy he fared -badly. His classroom was on the opposite side of the hall from -mine, and at frequent intervals his voice would penetrate my door, -raised to a frenzied fortissimo. - -Little by little, however, we had won through the day, and the -boys had subsided into comparative quiet over their evening -preparation, when from outside the front door there sounded the -purring of the engine of a large automobile. The bell rang. - -I did not, I remember, pay much attention to this at the moment. I -supposed that somebody from one of the big houses in the -neighbourhood had called, or, taking the lateness of the hour into -consideration, that a motoring party had come, as they did -sometimes--Sanstead House standing some miles from anywhere in the -middle of an intricate system of by-roads--to inquire the way to -Portsmouth or London. If my class had allowed me, I would have -ignored the sound. But for them it supplied just that break in the -monotony of things which they had needed. They welcomed it -vociferously. - -A voice: 'Sir, please, sir, there's a motor outside.' - -Myself (austerely): T know there's a motor outside. Get on with -your work.' - -Various voices: 'Sir, have you ever ridden in a motor?' - -'Sir, my father let me help drive our motor last Easter, sir.' - -'Sir, who do you think it is?' - -An isolated genius (imitating the engine): 'Pr-prr! Pr-prr! Pr-prr!' - -I was on the point of distributing bad marks (the schoolmaster's -stand-by) broadcast, when a curious sound checked me. It followed -directly upon the opening of the front door. I heard White's -footsteps crossing the hall, then the click of the latch, and -then--a sound that I could not define. The closed door of the -classroom deadened it, but for all that it was audible. It -resembled the thud of a falling body, but I knew it could not be -that, for in peaceful England butlers opening front doors did not -fall with thuds. - -My class, eager listeners, found fresh material in the sound for -friendly conversation. - -'Sir, what was that, sir?' - -'Did you hear that, sir?' - -'What do you think's happened, sir?' - -'Be quiet,' I shouted. 'Will you be--' - -There was a quick footstep outside, the door flew open, and on the -threshold stood a short, sturdy man in a motoring coat and cap. -The upper part of his face was covered by a strip of white linen, -with holes for the eyes, and there was a Browning pistol in his -hand. - -It is my belief that, if assistant-masters were allowed to wear -white masks and carry automatic pistols, keeping order in a school -would become child's play. A silence such as no threat of bad -marks had ever been able to produce fell instantaneously upon the -classroom. Out of the corner of my eye, as I turned to face our -visitor, I could see small boys goggling rapturously at this -miraculous realization of all the dreams induced by juvenile -adventure fiction. As far as I could ascertain, on subsequent -inquiry, not one of them felt a tremor of fear. It was all too -tremendously exciting for that. For their exclusive benefit an -illustration from a weekly paper for boys had come to life, and -they had no time to waste in being frightened. - -As for me, I was dazed. Motor bandits may terrorize France, and -desperadoes hold up trains in America, but this was peaceful -England. The fact that Buck MacGinnis was at large in the -neighbourhood did not make the thing any the less incredible. I -had looked on my affair with Buck as a thing of the open air and -the darkness. I had figured him lying in wait in lonely roads, -possibly, even, lurking about the grounds; but in my most -apprehensive moments I had not imagined him calling at the front -door and holding me up with a revolver in my own classroom. - -And yet it was the simple, even the obvious, thing for him to do. -Given an automobile, success was certain. Sanstead House stood -absolutely alone. There was not even a cottage within half a mile. -A train broken down in the middle of the Bad Lands was not more -cut off. - -Consider, too, the peculiar helplessness of a school in such a -case. A school lives on the confidence of parents, a nebulous -foundation which the slightest breath can destroy. Everything -connected with it must be done with exaggerated discretion. I do -not suppose Mr MacGinnis had thought the thing out in all its -bearings, but he could not have made a sounder move if he had been -a Napoleon. Where the owner of an ordinary country-house raided by -masked men can raise the countryside in pursuit, a schoolmaster -must do precisely the opposite. From his point of view, the fewer -people that know of the affair the better. Parents are a jumpy -race. A man may be the ideal schoolmaster, yet will a connection -with melodrama damn him in the eyes of parents. They do not -inquire. They are too panic-stricken for that. Golden-haired -Willie may be receiving the finest education conceivable, yet if -men with Browning pistols are familiar objects at his shrine of -learning they will remove him. Fortunately for schoolmasters it is -seldom that such visitors call upon them. Indeed, I imagine Mr -MacGinnis's effort to have been the first of its kind. - -I do not, as I say, suppose that Buck, whose forte was action -rather than brain-work, had thought all this out. He had trusted -to luck, and luck had stood by him. There would be no raising of -the countryside in his case. On the contrary, I could see Mr Abney -becoming one of the busiest persons on record in his endeavour to -hush the thing up and prevent it getting into the papers. The man -with the pistol spoke. He sighted me--I was standing with my back -to the mantelpiece, parallel with the door--made a sharp turn, and -raised his weapon. - -'Put 'em up, sport,' he said. - -It was not the voice of Buck MacGinnis. I put my hands up. - -'Say, which of dese is de Nugget?' - -He half turned his head to the class. - -'Which of youse kids is Ogden Ford?' - -The class was beyond speech. The silence continued. - -'Ogden Ford is not here,' I said. - -Our visitor had not that simple faith which is so much better than -Norman blood. He did not believe me. Without moving his head he -gave a long whistle. Steps sounded outside. Another, short, sturdy -form, entered the room. - -'He ain't in de odder room,' observed the newcomer. 'I been -rubberin'!' - -This was friend Buck beyond question. I could have recognized his -voice anywhere! - -'Well dis guy,' said the man with the pistol, indicating me, 'says -he ain't here. What's de answer?' - -'Why, it's Sam!' said Buck. 'Howdy, Sam? Pleased to see us, huh? -We're in on de ground floor, too, dis time, all right, all right.' - -His words had a marked effect on his colleague. - -'Is dat Sam? Hell! Let me blow de head off'n him!' he said, with -simple fervour; and, advancing a step nearer, he waved his -disengaged fist truculently. In my role of Sam I had plainly made -myself very unpopular. I have never heard so much emotion packed -into a few words. - -Buck, to my relief, opposed the motion. I thought this decent of -Buck. - -'Cheese it,' he said curtly. - -The other cheesed it. The operation took the form of lowering the -fist. The pistol he kept in position. - -Mr MacGinnis resumed the conduct of affairs. - -'Now den, Sam,' he said, 'come across! Where's de Nugget?' - -'My name is not Sam,' I said. 'May I put my hands down?' - -'Yep, if you want the top of your damn head blown off.' - -Such was not my desire. I kept them up. - -'Now den, you Sam,' said Mr MacGinnis again, 'we ain't got time to -burn. Out with it. Where's dat Nugget?' - -Some reply was obviously required. It was useless to keep -protesting that I was not Sam. - -'At this time in the evening he is generally working with Mr -Glossop.' - -'Who's Glossop? Dat dough-faced dub in de room over dere?' - -'Exactly. You have described him perfectly.' - -'Well, he ain't dere. I bin rubberin.' Aw, quit yer foolin', Sam, -where is he?' - -'I couldn't tell you just where he is at the present moment,' I -said precisely. - -'Ahr chee! Let me swot him one!' begged the man with the pistol; a -most unlovable person. I could never have made a friend of him. - -'Cheese it, you!' said Mr MacGinnis. - -The other cheesed it once more, regretfully. - -'You got him hidden away somewheres, Sam,' said Mr MacGinnis. 'You -can't fool me. I'm com' t'roo dis joint wit a fine-tooth comb till -I find him.' - -'By all means,' I said. 'Don't let me stop you.' - -'You? You're coming wit me.' - -'If you wish it. I shall be delighted.' - -'An' cut out dat dam' sissy way of talking, you rummy,' bellowed -Buck, with a sudden lapse into ferocity. 'Spiel like a regular -guy! Standin' dere, pullin' dat dude stuff on me! Cut it out!' - -'Say, why _mayn't_ I hand him one?' demanded the pistol-bearer -pathetically. 'What's your kick against pushin' his face in?' - -I thought the question in poor taste. Buck ignored it. - -'Gimme dat canister,' he said, taking the Browning pistol from -him. 'Now den, Sam, are youse goin' to be good, and come across, -or ain't you--which?' - -'I'd be delighted to do anything you wished, Mr MacGinnis,' I -said, 'but--' - -'Aw, hire a hall!' said Buck disgustedly. 'Step lively, den, an' -we'll go t'roo de joint. I t'ought youse 'ud have had more sense, -Sam, dan to play dis fool game when you know you're beat. You--' - -Shooting pains in my shoulders caused me to interrupt him. - -'One moment,' I said. 'I'm going to put my hands down. I'm getting -cramp.' - -'I'll blow a hole in you if you do!' - -'Just as you please. But I'm not armed.' - -'Lefty,' he said to the other man, 'feel around to see if he's -carryin' anyt'ing.' - -Lefty advanced and began to tap me scientifically in the -neighbourhood of my pockets. He grunted morosely the while. I -suppose, at this close range, the temptation to 'hand me one' was -almost more than he could bear. - -'He ain't got no gun,' he announced gloomily. - -'Den youse can put 'em down,' said Mr MacGinnis. - -'Thanks,' I said. - -'Lefty, youse stay here and look after dese kids. Get a move on, -Sam.' - -We left the room, a little procession of two, myself leading, Buck -in my immediate rear administering occasional cautionary prods -with the faithful 'canister'. - - -II - -The first thing that met my eyes as we entered the hall was the -body of a man lying by the front door. The light of the lamp fell -on his face and I saw that it was White. His hands and feet were -tied. As I looked at him, he moved, as if straining against his -bonds, and I was conscious of a feeling of relief. That sound that -had reached me in the classroom, that thud of a falling body, had -become, in the light of what had happened later, very sinister. It -was good to know that he was still alive. I gathered--correctly, -as I discovered subsequently--that in his case the sand-bag had -been utilized. He had been struck down and stunned the instant he -opened the door. - -There was a masked man leaning against the wall by Glossop's -classroom. He was short and sturdy. The Buck MacGinnis gang seemed -to have been turned out on a pattern. Externally, they might all -have been twins. This man, to give him a semblance of individuality, -had a ragged red moustache. He was smoking a cigar with the air of -the warrior taking his rest. - -'Hello!' he said, as we appeared. He jerked a thumb towards the -classroom. 'I've locked dem in. What's doin', Buck?' he asked, -indicating me with a languid nod. - -'We're going t'roo de joint,' explained Mr MacGinnis. 'De kid -ain't in dere. Hump yourself, Sam!' - -His colleague's languor disappeared with magic swiftness. - -'Sam! Is dat Sam? Here, let me beat de block off'n him!' - -Few points in this episode struck me as more remarkable than the -similarity of taste which prevailed, as concerned myself, among -the members of Mr MacGinnis's gang. Men, doubtless of varying -opinions on other subjects, on this one point they were unanimous. -They all wanted to assault me. - -Buck, however, had other uses for me. For the present, I was -necessary as a guide, and my value as such would be impaired were -the block to be beaten off me. Though feeling no friendlier -towards me than did his assistants, he declined to allow sentiment -to interfere with business. He concentrated his attention on the -upward journey with all the earnestness of the young gentleman who -carried the banner with the strange device in the poem. - -Briefly requesting his ally to cheese it--which he did--he urged -me on with the nozzle of the pistol. The red-moustached man sank -back against the wall again with an air of dejection, sucking his -cigar now like one who has had disappointments in life, while we -passed on up the stairs and began to draw the rooms on the first -floor. - -These consisted of Mr Abney's study and two dormitories. The study -was empty, and the only occupants of the dormitories were the -three boys who had been stricken down with colds on the occasion -of Mr MacGinnis's last visit. They squeaked with surprise at the -sight of the assistant-master in such questionable company. - -Buck eyed them disappointedly. I waited with something of the -feelings of a drummer taking a buyer round the sample room. - -'Get on,' said Buck. - -'Won't one of those do?' - -'Hump yourself, Sam.' - -'Call me Sammy,' I urged. 'We're old friends now.' - -'Don't get fresh,' he said austerely. And we moved on. - -The top floor was even more deserted than the first. There was no -one in the dormitories. The only other room was Mr Abney's; and, -as we came opposite it, a sneeze from within told of the -sufferings of its occupant. - -The sound stirred Buck to his depths. He 'pointed' at the door -like a smell-dog. - -'Who's in dere?' he demanded. - -'Only Mr Abney. Better not disturb him. He has a bad cold.' - -He placed a wrong construction on my solicitude for my employer. -His manner became excited. - -'Open dat door, you,' he cried. - -'It'll give him a nasty shock.' - -'G'wan! Open it!' - -No one who is digging a Browning pistol into the small of my back -will ever find me disobliging. I opened the door--knocking first, -as a mild concession to the conventions--and the procession passed -in. - -My stricken employer was lying on his back, staring at the -ceiling, and our entrance did not at first cause him to change -this position. - -'Yes?' he said thickly, and disappeared beneath a huge -pocket-handkerchief. Muffled sounds, as of distant explosions of -dynamite, together with earthquake shudderings of the bedclothes, -told of another sneezing-fit. - -'I'm sorry to disturb you,' I began, when Buck, ever the man of -action, with a scorn of palaver, strode past me, and, having -prodded with the pistol that part of the bedclothes beneath which -a rough calculation suggested that Mr Abney's lower ribs were -concealed, uttered the one word, 'Sa-a-ay!' - -Mr Abney sat up like a Jack-in-the-box. One might almost say that -he shot up. And then he saw Buck. - -I cannot even faintly imagine what were Mr Abney's emotions at -that moment. He was a man who, from boyhood up, had led a quiet -and regular life. Things like Buck had appeared to him hitherto, -if they appeared at all, only in dreams after injudicious suppers. -Even in the ordinary costume of the Bowery gentleman, without such -adventitious extras as masks and pistols, Buck was no beauty. With -that hideous strip of dingy white linen on his face, he was a -walking nightmare. - -Mr Abney's eyebrows had risen and his jaw had fallen to their -uttermost limits. His hair, disturbed by contact with the pillow, -gave the impression of standing on end. His eyes seemed to bulge -like a snail's. He stared at Buck, fascinated. - -'Say, you, quit rubberin'. Youse ain't in a dime museum. Where's -dat Ford kid, huh?' - -I have set down all Mr MacGinnis's remarks as if they had been -uttered in a bell-like voice with a clear and crisp enunciation; -but, in doing so, I have flattered him. In reality, his mode of -speech suggested that he had something large and unwieldy -permanently stuck in his mouth; and it was not easy for a stranger -to follow him. Mr Abney signally failed to do so. He continued to -gape helplessly till the tension was broken by a sneeze. - -One cannot interrogate a sneezing man with any satisfaction to -oneself. Buck stood by the bedside in moody silence, waiting for -the paroxysm to spend itself. - -I, meanwhile, had remained where I stood, close to the door. And, -as I waited for Mr Abney to finish sneezing, for the first time -since Buck's colleague Lefty had entered the classroom the idea of -action occurred to me. Until this moment, I suppose, the -strangeness and unexpectedness of these happenings had numbed my -brain. To precede Buck meekly upstairs and to wait with equal -meekness while he interviewed Mr Abney had seemed the only course -open to me. To one whose life has lain apart from such things, the -hypnotic influence of a Browning pistol is irresistible. - -But now, freed temporarily from this influence, I began to think; -and, my mind making up for its previous inaction by working with -unwonted swiftness, I formed a plan of action at once. - -It was simple, but I had an idea that it would be effective. My -strength lay in my acquaintance with the geography of Sanstead -House and Buck's ignorance of it. Let me but get an adequate -start, and he might find pursuit vain. It was this start which I -saw my way to achieving. - -To Buck it had not yet occurred that it was a tactical error to -leave me between the door and himself. I supposed he relied too -implicitly on the mesmeric pistol. He was not even looking at me. - -The next moment my fingers were on the switch of the electric -light, and the room was in darkness. - -There was a chair by the door. I seized it and swung it into the -space between us. Then, springing back, I banged the door and ran. - -I did not run without a goal in view. My objective was the study. -This, as I have explained, was on the first floor. Its window -looked out on to a strip of lawn at the side of the house ending -in a shrubbery. The drop would not be pleasant, but I seemed to -remember a waterspout that ran up the wall close to the window, -and, in any case, I was not in a position to be deterred by the -prospect of a bruise or two. I had not failed to realize that my -position was one of extreme peril. When Buck, concluding the tour -of the house, found that the Little Nugget was not there--as I had -reason to know that he would--there was no room for doubt that he -would withdraw the protection which he had extended to me up to -the present in my capacity of guide. On me the disappointed fury -of the raiders would fall. No prudent consideration for their own -safety would restrain them. If ever the future was revealed to -man, I saw mine. My only chance was to get out into the grounds, -where the darkness would make pursuit an impossibility. - -It was an affair which must be settled one way or the other in a -few seconds, and I calculated that it would take Buck just those -few seconds to win his way past the chair and find the door-handle. - -I was right. Just as I reached the study, the door of the bedroom -flew open, and the house rang with shouts and the noise of feet on -the uncarpeted landing. From the hall below came answering shouts, -but with an interrogatory note in them. The assistants were -willing, but puzzled. They did not like to leave their posts -without specific instructions, and Buck, shouting as he clattered -over the bare boards, was unintelligible. - -I was in the study, the door locked behind me, before they could -arrive at an understanding. I sprang to the window. - -The handle rattled. Voices shouted. A panel splintered beneath a -kick, and the door shook on its hinges. - -And then, for the first time, I think, in my life, panic gripped -me, the sheer, blind fear which destroys the reason. It swept over -me in a wave, that numbing terror which comes to one in dreams. -Indeed, the thing had become dream-like. I seemed to be standing -outside myself, looking on at myself, watching myself heave and -strain with bruised fingers at a window that would not open. - - -III - -The arm-chair critic, reviewing a situation calmly and at his -ease, is apt to make too small allowances for the effect of hurry -and excitement on the human mind. He is cool and detached. He sees -exactly what ought to have been done, and by what simple means -catastrophe might have been averted. - -He would have made short work of my present difficulty, I feel -certain. It was ridiculously simple. But I had lost my head, and -had ceased for the moment to be a reasoning creature. In the end, -indeed, it was no presence of mind but pure good luck which saved -me. Just as the door, which had held out gallantly, gave way -beneath the attack from outside, my fingers, slipping, struck -against the catch of the window, and I understood why I had failed -to raise it. - -I snapped the catch back, and flung up the sash. An icy wind swept -into the room, bearing particles of snow. I scrambled on to the -window-sill, and a crash from behind me told of the falling of the -door. - -The packed snow on the sill was drenching my knees as I worked my -way out and prepared to drop. There was a deafening explosion -inside the room, and simultaneously something seared my shoulder -like a hot iron. I cried out with the pain of it, and, losing my -balance, fell from the sill. - -There was, fortunately for me, a laurel bush immediately below the -window, or I should have been undone. I fell into it, all arms and -legs, in a way which would have meant broken bones if I had struck -the hard turf. I was on my feet in an instant, shaken and -scratched and, incidentally, in a worse temper than ever in my -life before. The idea of flight, which had obsessed me a moment -before, to the exclusion of all other mundane affairs, had -vanished absolutely. I was full of fight, I might say overflowing -with it. I remember standing there, with the snow trickling in -chilly rivulets down my face and neck, and shaking my fist at the -window. Two of my pursuers were leaning out of it, while a third -dodged behind them, like a small man on the outskirts of a crowd. -So far from being thankful for my escape, I was conscious only of -a feeling of regret that there was no immediate way of getting at -them. - -They made no move towards travelling the quick but trying route -which had commended itself to me. They seemed to be waiting for -something to happen. It was not long before I was made aware of -what this something was. From the direction of the front door came -the sound of one running. A sudden diminution of the noise of his -feet told me that he had left the gravel and was on the turf. I -drew back a pace or two and waited. - -It was pitch dark, and I had no fear that I should be seen. I was -standing well outside the light from the window. - -The man stopped just in front of me. A short parley followed. - -'Can'tja see him?' - -The voice was not Buck's. It was Buck who answered. And when I -realized that this man in front of me, within easy reach, on whose -back I was shortly about to spring, and whose neck I proposed, -under Providence, to twist into the shape of a corkscrew, was no -mere underling, but Mr MacGinnis himself, I was filled with a joy -which I found it hard to contain in silence. - -Looking back, I am a little sorry for Mr MacGinnis. He was not a -good man. His mode of speech was not pleasant, and his manners -were worse than his speech. But, though he undoubtedly deserved -all that was coming to him, it was nevertheless bad luck for him -to be standing just there at just that moment. The reactions after -my panic, added to the pain of my shoulder, the scratches on my -face, and the general misery of being wet and cold, had given me a -reckless fury and a determination to do somebody, whoever happened -to come along, grievous bodily hurt, such as seldom invades the -bosoms of the normally peaceful. To put it crisply, I was fighting -mad, and I looked on Buck as something sent by Heaven. - -He had got as far, in his reply, as 'Naw, I can't--' when I -sprang. - -I have read of the spring of the jaguar, and I have seen some very -creditable flying-tackles made on the football field. My leap -combined the outstanding qualities of both. I connected with Mr -MacGinnis in the region of the waist, and the howl he gave as we -crashed to the ground was music to my ears. - -But how true is the old Roman saying, _'Surgit amari aliquid'_. -Our pleasures are never perfect. There is always something. In the -programme which I had hastily mapped out, the upsetting of Mr -MacGinnis was but a small item, a mere preliminary. There were a -number of things which I had wished to do to him, once upset. But -it was not to be. Even as I reached for his throat I perceived that -the light of the window was undergoing an eclipse. A compact form -had wriggled out on to the sill, as I had done, and I heard the -grating of his shoes on the wall as he lowered himself for the drop. - -There is a moment when the pleasantest functions must come to -an end. I was loath to part from Mr MacGinnis just when I was -beginning, as it were, to do myself justice; but it was unavoidable. -In another moment his ally would descend upon us, like some Homeric -god swooping from a cloud, and I was not prepared to continue the -battle against odds. - -I disengaged myself--Mr MacGinnis strangely quiescent during the -process--and was on my feet in the safety of the darkness just as -the reinforcement touched earth. This time I did not wait. My -hunger for fight had been appeased to some extent by my brush with -Buck, and I was satisfied to have achieved safety with honour. - -Making a wide detour I crossed the drive and worked my way through -the bushes to within a few yards of where the automobile stood, -filling the night with the soft purring of its engines. I was -interested to see what would be the enemy's next move. It was -improbable that they would attempt to draw the grounds in search -of me. I imagined that they would recognize failure and retire -whence they had come. - -I was right. I had not been watching long, before a little group -advanced into the light of the automobile's lamps. There were four -of them. Three were walking, the fourth, cursing with the vigour -and breadth that marks the expert, lying on their arms, of which -they had made something resembling a stretcher. - -The driver of the car, who had been sitting woodenly in his seat, -turned at the sound. - -'Ja get him?' he inquired. - -'Get nothing!' replied one of the three moodily. 'De Nugget ain't -dere, an' we was chasin' Sam to fix him, an' he laid for us, an' -what he did to Buck was plenty.' - -They placed their valuable burden in the tonneau, where he lay -repeating himself, and two of them climbed in after him. The third -seated himself beside the driver. - -'Buck's leg's broke,' he announced. - -'Hell!' said the chauffeur. - -No young actor, receiving his first round of applause, could have -felt a keener thrill of gratification than I did at those words. -Life may have nobler triumphs than the breaking of a kidnapper's -leg, but I did not think so then. It was with an effort that I -stopped myself from cheering. - -'Let her go,' said the man in the front seat. - -The purring rose to a roar. The car turned and began to move with -increasing speed down the drive. Its drone grew fainter, and -ceased. I brushed the snow from my coat and walked to the front -door. - -My first act on entering the house, was to release White. He was -still lying where I had seen him last. He appeared to have made no -headway with the cords on his wrists and ankles. I came to his -help with a rather blunt pocket-knife, and he rose stiffly and -began to chafe the injured arms in silence. - -'They've gone,' I said. - -He nodded. - -'Did they hit you with a sand-bag?' - -He nodded again. - -'I broke Buck's leg,' I said, with modest pride. - -He looked up incredulously. I related my experiences as briefly -as possible, and when I came to the part where I made my flying -tackle, the gloom was swept from his face by a joyful smile. Buck's -injury may have given its recipient pain, but it was certainly the -cause of pleasure to others. White's manner was one of the utmost -enthusiasm as I described the scene. - -'That'll hold Buck for a while,' was his comment. 'I guess we -shan't hear from _him_ for a week or two. That's the best cure -for the headache I've ever struck.' - -He rubbed the lump that just showed beneath his hair. I did not -wonder at his emotion. Whoever had wielded the sand-bag had done -his work well, in a manner to cause hard feelings on the part of -the victim. - -I had been vaguely conscious during this conversation of an -intermittent noise like distant thunder. I now perceived that it -came from Glossop's classroom, and was caused by the beating of -hands on the door-panels. I remembered that the red-moustached man -had locked Glossop and his young charges in. It seemed to me that -he had done well. There would be plenty of confusion without their -assistance. - -I was turning towards my own classroom when I saw Audrey on the -stairs and went to meet her. - -'It's all right,' I said. 'They've gone.' - -'Who was it? What did they want?' - -'It was a gentleman named MacGinnis and some friends. They came -after Ogden Ford, but they didn't get him.' - -'Where is he? Where is Ogden?' - -Before I could reply, babel broke loose. While we had been -talking, White had injudiciously turned the key of Glossop's -classroom which now disgorged its occupants, headed by my -colleague, in a turbulent stream. At the same moment my own -classroom began to empty itself. The hall was packed with boys, -and the din became deafening. Every one had something to say, and -they all said it at once. - -Glossop was at my side, semaphoring violently. - -'We must telephone,' he bellowed in my ear, 'for the police.' - -Somebody tugged at my arm. It was Audrey. She was saying something -which was drowned in the uproar. I drew her towards the stairs, -and we found comparative quiet on the first landing. - -'What were you saying?' I asked. - -'He isn't there.' - -'Who?' - -'Ogden Ford. Where is he? He is not in his room. They must have -taken him.' - -Glossop came up at a gallop, springing from stair to stair like -the chamois of the Alps. - -'We must telephone for the police!' he cried. - -'I have telephoned,' said Audrey, 'ten minutes ago. They are -sending some men at once. Mr Glossop, was Ogden Ford in your -classroom?' - -'No, Mrs Sheridan. I thought he was with you, Burns.' - -I shook my head. - -'Those men came to kidnap him, Mr Glossop,' said Audrey. - -'Undoubtedly the gang of scoundrels to which that man the other -night belonged! This is preposterous. My nerves will not stand -these repeated outrages. We must have police protection. The -villains must be brought to justice. I never heard of such a -thing! In an English school!' - -Glossop's eyes gleamed agitatedly behind their spectacles. -Macbeth's deportment when confronted with Banquo's ghost was -stolid by comparison. There was no doubt that Buck's visit had -upset the smooth peace of our happy little community to quite a -considerable extent. - -The noise in the hall had increased rather than subsided. A -belated sense of professional duty returned to Glossop and myself. -We descended the stairs and began to do our best, in our -respective styles, to produce order. It was not an easy task. -Small boys are always prone to make a noise, even without -provocation. When they get a genuine excuse like the incursion of -men in white masks, who prod assistant-masters in the small of the -back with Browning pistols, they tend to eclipse themselves. I -doubt whether we should ever have quieted them, had it not been -that the hour of Buck's visit had chanced to fall within a short -time of that set apart for the boys' tea, and that the kitchen had -lain outside the sphere of our visitors' operations. As in many -English country houses, the kitchen at Sanstead House was at the -end of a long corridor, shut off by doors through which even -pistol-shots penetrated but faintly. Our excellent cook had, -moreover, the misfortune to be somewhat deaf, with the result -that, throughout all the storm and stress in our part of the -house, she, like the lady in Goethe's poem, had gone on cutting -bread and butter; till now, when it seemed that nothing could -quell the uproar, there rose above it the ringing of the bell. - -If there is anything exciting enough to keep the Englishman or the -English boy from his tea, it has yet to be discovered. The -shouting ceased on the instant. The general feeling seemed to be -that inquiries could be postponed till a more suitable occasion, -but not tea. There was a general movement in the direction of the -dining-room. - -Glossop had already gone with the crowd, and I was about to -follow, when there was another ring at the front-door bell. - -I gathered that this must be the police, and waited. In the -impending inquiry I was by way of being a star witness. If any one -had been in the thick of things from the beginning it was myself. - -White opened the door. I caught a glimpse of blue uniforms, and -came forward to do the honours. - -There were two of them, no more. In response to our urgent appeal -for assistance against armed bandits, the Majesty of the Law had -materialized itself in the shape of a stout inspector and a long, -lean constable. I thought, as I came to meet them, that they were -fortunate to have arrived late. I could see Lefty and the -red-moustached man, thwarted in their designs on me, making -dreadful havoc among the official force, as here represented. - -White, the simple butler once more, introduced us. - -'This is Mr Burns, one of the masters at the school,' he said, and -removed himself from the scene. There never was a man like White -for knowing his place when he played the butler. - -The inspector looked at me sharply. The constable gazed into -space. - -'H'm!' said the inspector. - -Mentally I had named them Bones and Johnson. I do not know why, -except that they seemed to deserve it. - -'You telephoned for us,' said Bones accusingly. - -'We did.' - -'What's the trouble? What--got your notebook?--has been -happening?' - -Johnson removed his gaze from the middle distance and produced a -notebook. - -'At about half past five--' I began. - -Johnson moistened his pencil. - -'At about half past five an automobile drove up to the front door. -In it were five masked men with revolvers.' - -I interested them. There was no doubt of that. Bones's healthy -colour deepened, and his eyes grew round. Johnson's pencil raced -over the page, wobbling with emotion. - -'Masked men?' echoed Bones. - -'With revolvers,' I said. 'Now aren't you glad you didn't go to -the circus? They rang the front-door bell; when White opened it, -they stunned him with a sand-bag. Then--' - -Bones held up a large hand. - -'Wait!' - -I waited. - -'Who is White?' - -'The butler.' - -'I will take his statement. Fetch the butler.' - -Johnson trotted off obediently. - -Left alone with me, Bones became friendlier and less official. - -'This is as queer a start as ever I heard of, Mr Burns,' he said. -'Twenty years I've been in the force, and nothing like this has -transpired. It beats cock-fighting. What in the world do you -suppose men with masks and revolvers was after? First idea I had -was that you were making fun of me.' - -I was shocked at the idea. I hastened to give further details. - -'They were a gang of American crooks who had come over to kidnap -Mr Elmer Ford's son, who is a pupil at the school. You have heard -of Mr Ford? He is an American millionaire, and there have been -several attempts during the past few years to kidnap Ogden.' - -At this point Johnson returned with White. White told his story -briefly, exhibited his bruise, showed the marks of the cords on his -wrists, and was dismissed. I suggested that further conversation -had better take place in the presence of Mr Abney, who, I imagined, -would have something to say on the subject of hushing the thing up. - -We went upstairs. The broken door of the study delayed us a while -and led to a fresh spasm of activity on the part of Johnson's -pencil. Having disposed of this, we proceeded to Mr Abney's room. - -Bones's authoritative rap upon the door produced an agitated -'Who's that?' from the occupant. I explained the nature of the -visitation through the keyhole and there came from within the -sound of moving furniture. His one brief interview with Buck had -evidently caused my employer to ensure against a second by -barricading himself in with everything he could find suitable for -the purpose. It was some moments before the way was clear for our -entrance. - -'Cub id,' said a voice at last. - -Mr Abney was sitting up in bed, the blankets wrapped tightly about -him. His appearance was still disordered. The furniture of the -room was in great confusion, and a poker on the floor by the -dressing-table showed that he had been prepared to sell his life -dearly. - -'I ab glad to see you, Idspector,' he said. 'Bister Burds, what is -the expladation of this extraordinary affair?' - -It took some time to explain matters to Mr Abney, and more to -convince Bones and his colleague that, so far from wanting a hue -and cry raised over the countryside and columns about the affair -in the papers, publicity was the thing we were anxious to avoid. -They were visibly disappointed when they grasped the position of -affairs. The thing, properly advertised, would have been the -biggest that had ever happened to the neighbourhood, and their -eager eyes could see glory within easy reach. Mention of a cold -snack and a drop of beer, however, to be found in the kitchen, -served to cast a gleam of brightness on their gloom, and they -vanished in search of it with something approaching cheeriness, -Johnson taking notes to the last. - -They had hardly gone when Glossop whirled into the room in a state -of effervescing agitation. - -'Mr Abney, Ogden Ford is nowhere to be found!' - -Mr Abney greeted the information with a prodigious sneeze. - -'What do you bead?' he demanded, when the paroxysm was over. He -turned to me. 'Bister Burds, I understood you to--ah--say that -the scou'drels took their departure without the boy Ford.' - -'They certainly did. I watched them go.' - -'I have searched the house thoroughly,' said Glossop, 'and there -are no signs of him. And not only that, the Boy Beckford cannot be -found.' - -Mr Abney clasped his head in his hands. Poor man, he was in no -condition to bear up with easy fortitude against this succession -of shocks. He was like one who, having survived an earthquake, is -hit by an automobile. He had partly adjusted his mind to the quiet -contemplation of Mr MacGinnis and friends when he was called upon -to face this fresh disaster. And he had a cold in the head, which -unmans the stoutest. Napoleon would have won Waterloo if -Wellington had had a cold in the head. - -'Augustus Beckford caddot be fou'd?' he echoed feebly. - -'They must have run away together,' said Glossop. - -Mr Abney sat up, galvanized. - -'Such a thing has never happened id the school before!' he cried. -'It has aldways beed my--ah--codstant endeavour to make my boys -look upod Sadstead House as a happy hobe. I have systebatically -edcouraged a spirit of cheerful codtedment. I caddot seriously -credit the fact that Augustus Beckford, one of the bost charbig -boys it has ever beed by good fortude to have id by charge, has -deliberately rud away.' - -'He must have been persuaded by that boy Ford,' said Glossop, -'who,' he added morosely, 'I believe, is the devil in disguise.' - -Mr Abney did not rebuke the strength of his language. Probably the -theory struck him as eminently sound. To me there certainly seemed -something in it. - -'Subbthig bust be done at once!' Mr Abney exclaimed. 'It -is--ah--ibperative that we take ibbediate steps. They bust -have gone to Londod. Bister Burds, you bust go to Londod by the -next traid. I caddot go byself with this cold.' - -It was the irony of fate that, on the one occasion when duty -really summoned that champion popper-up-to-London to the -Metropolis, he should be unable to answer the call. - -'Very well,' I said. 'I'll go and look out a train.' - -'Bister Glossop, you will be in charge of the school. Perhaps you -had better go back to the boys dow.' - -White was in the hall when I got there. - -'White,' I said, 'do you know anything about the trains to -London?' - -'Are you going to London?' he asked, in his more conversational -manner. I thought he looked at me curiously as he spoke. - -'Yes. Ogden Ford and Lord Beckford cannot be found. Mr Abney -thinks they must have run away to London.' - -'I shouldn't wonder,' said White dryly, it seemed to me. There was -something distinctly odd in his manner. 'And you're going after -them.' - -'Yes. I must look up a train.' - -'There is a fast train in an hour. You will have plenty of time.' - -'Will you tell Mr Abney that, while I go and pack my bag? And -telephone for a cab.' - -'Sure,' said White, nodding. - -I went up to my room and began to put a few things together in a -suit-case. I felt happy, for several reasons. A visit to London, -after my arduous weeks at Sanstead, was in the nature of an -unexpected treat. My tastes are metropolitan, and the vision of an -hour at a music-hall--I should be too late for the theatres--with -supper to follow in some restaurant where there was an orchestra, -appealed to me. - -When I returned to the hall, carrying my bag, I found Audrey -there. - -'I'm being sent to London,' I announced. - -'I know. White told me. Peter, bring him back.' - -'That's why I'm being sent.' - -'It means everything to me.' - -I looked at her in surprise. There was a strained, anxious -expression on her face, for which I could not account. I declined -to believe that anybody could care what happened to the Little -Nugget purely for that amiable youth's own sake. Besides, as he -had gone to London willingly, the assumption was that he was -enjoying himself. - -'I don't understand,' I said. 'What do you mean?' - -'I'll tell you. Mr Ford sent me here to be near Ogden, to guard -him. He knew that there was always a danger of attempts being made -to kidnap him, even though he was brought over to England very -quietly. That is how I come to be here. I go wherever Ogden goes. -I am responsible for him. And I have failed. If Ogden is not -brought back, Mr Ford will have nothing more to do with me. He -never forgives failures. It will mean going back to the old work -again--the dressmaking, or the waiting, or whatever I can manage -to find.' She gave a little shiver. 'Peter, I can't. All the pluck -has gone out of me. I'm afraid. I couldn't face all that again. -Bring him back. You must. You will. Say you will.' - -I did not answer. I could find nothing to say; for it was I who -was responsible for all her trouble. I had planned everything. I -had given Ogden Ford the money that had taken him to London. And -soon, unless I could reach London before it happened, and prevent -him, he, with my valet Smith, would be in the Dover boat-train on -his way to Monaco. - - - - -Chapter 9 - - -I - -It was only after many hours of thought that it had flashed upon -me that the simplest and safest way of removing the Little Nugget -was to induce him to remove himself. Once the idea had come, the -rest was simple. The negotiations which had taken place that -morning in the stable-yard had been brief. I suppose a boy in -Ogden's position, with his record of narrow escapes from the -kidnapper, comes to take things as a matter of course which would -startle the ordinary boy. He assumed, I imagine, that I was the -accredited agent of his mother, and that the money which I gave -him for travelling expenses came from her. Perhaps he had been -expecting something of the sort. At any rate, he grasped the -essential points of the scheme with amazing promptitude. His -little hand was extended to receive the cash almost before I had -finished speaking. - -The main outline of my plan was that he should slip away to -London, during the afternoon, go to my rooms, where he would find -Smith, and with Smith travel to his mother at Monaco. I had -written to Smith, bidding him be in readiness for the expedition. -There was no flaw in the scheme as I had mapped it out, and though -Ogden had complicated it a little by gratuitously luring away -Augustus Beckford to bear him company, he had not endangered its -success. - -But now an utterly unforeseen complication had arisen. My one -desire now was to undo everything for which I had been plotting. - -I stood there, looking at her dumbly, hating myself for being the -cause of the anxiety in her eyes. If I had struck her, I could not -have felt more despicable. In my misery I cursed Cynthia for -leading me into this tangle. - -I heard my name spoken, and turned to find White at my elbow. - -'Mr Abney would like to see you, sir.' - -I went upstairs, glad to escape. The tension of the situation had -begun to tear at my nerves. - -'Cub id, Bister Burds,' said my employer, swallowing a lozenge. -His aspect was more dazed than ever. 'White has just bade -an--ah--extraordinary cobbudicatiod to me. It seebs he is in -reality a detective, an employee of Pidkertod's Agedcy, of which -you have, of course--ah--heard.' - -So White had revealed himself. On the whole, I was not surprised. -Certainly his motive for concealment, the fear of making Mr Abney -nervous, was removed. An inrush of Red Indians with tomahawks -could hardly have added greatly to Mr Abney's nervousness at the -present juncture. - -'Sent here by Mr Ford, I suppose?' I said. I had to say something. - -'Exactly. Ah--precisely.' He sneezed. 'Bister Ford, without -codsulting me--I do not cobbedt on the good taste or wisdob of his -actiod--dispatched White to apply for the post of butler at -this--ah--house, his predecessor having left at a bobedt's dotice, -bribed to do so, I strodgly suspect, by Bister Ford himself. I bay -be wrodging Bister Ford, but do dot thig so.' - -I thought the reasoning sound. - -'All thad, however,' resumed Mr Abney, removing his face from a -jug of menthol at which he had been sniffing with the tense -concentration of a dog at a rabbit-hole, 'is beside the poidt. I -berely bedtiod it to explaid why White will accompady you to -London.' - -'What!' - -The exclamation was forced from me by my dismay. This was -appalling. If this infernal detective was to accompany me, my -chance of bringing Ogden back was gone. It had been my intention -to go straight to my rooms, in the hope of finding him not yet -departed. But how was I to explain his presence there to White? - -'I don't think it's necessary, Mr Abney,' I protested. 'I am sure -I can manage this affair by myself.' - -'Two heads are better thad wud,' said the invalid sententiously, -burying his features in the jug once more. - -'Too many cooks spoil the broth,' I replied. If the conversation -was to consist of copybook maxims, I could match him as long as he -pleased. - -He did not keep up the intellectual level of the discussion. - -'Dodseds!' he snapped, with the irritation of a man whose proverb -has been capped by another. I had seldom heard him speak so -sharply. White's revelation had evidently impressed him. He had -all the ordinary peaceful man's reverence for the professional -detective. - -'White will accompany you, Bister Burds,' he said doggedly. - -'Very well,' I said. - -After all, it might be that I should get an opportunity of giving -him the slip. London is a large city. - -A few minutes later the cab arrived, and White and I set forth on -our mission. - -We did not talk much in the cab. I was too busy with my thoughts -to volunteer remarks, and White, apparently, had meditations of -his own to occupy him. - -It was when we had settled ourselves in an empty compartment and -the train had started that he found speech. I had provided myself -with a book as a barrier against conversation, and began at once -to make a pretence of reading, but he broke through my defences. - -'Interesting book, Mr Burns?' - -'Very,' I said. - -'Life's more interesting than books.' - -I made no comment on this profound observation. He was not -discouraged. - -'Mr Burns,' he said, after the silence had lasted a few moments. - -'Yes?' - -'Let's talk for a spell. These train-journeys are pretty slow.' - -Again I seemed to detect that curious undercurrent of meaning in -his voice which I had noticed in the course of our brief exchange -of remarks in the hall. I glanced up and met his eye. He was -looking at me in a way that struck me as curious. There was -something in those bright brown eyes of his which had the effect -of making me vaguely uneasy. Something seemed to tell me that he -had a definite motive in forcing his conversation on me. - -'I guess I can interest you a heap more than that book, even if -it's the darndest best seller that was ever hatched.' - -'Oh!' - -He lit a cigarette. - -'You didn't want me around on this trip, did you?' - -'It seemed rather unnecessary for both of us to go,' I said -indifferently. 'Still, perhaps two heads are better than one, as -Mr Abney remarked. What do you propose to do when you get to -London?' - -He bent forward and tapped me on the knee. - -'I propose to stick to you like a label on a bottle, sonny,' he -said. 'That's what I propose to do.' - -'What do you mean?' - -I was finding it difficult, such is the effect of a guilty -conscience, to meet his eye, and the fact irritated me. - -'I want to find out that address you gave the Ford kid this -morning out in the stable-yard.' - -It is strange how really literal figurative expressions are. I had -read stories in which some astonished character's heart leaped -into his mouth. For an instant I could have supposed that mine had -actually done so. The illusion of some solid object blocking up my -throat was extraordinarily vivid, and there certainly seemed to be -a vacuum in the spot where my heart should have been. Not for a -substantial reward could I have uttered a word at that moment. I -could not even breathe. The horrible unexpectedness of the blow -had paralysed me. - -White, however, was apparently prepared to continue the chat -without my assistance. - -'I guess you didn't know I was around, or you wouldn't have talked -that way. Well, I was, and I heard every word you said. Here was -the money, you said, and he was to take it and break for London, -and go to the address on this card, and your pal Smith would look -after him. I guess there had been some talk before that, but I -didn't arrive in time to hear it. But I heard all I wanted, except -that address. And that's what I'm going to find out when we get to -London.' - -He gave out this appalling information in a rich and soothing -voice, as if it were some ordinary commonplace. To me it seemed to -end everything. I imagined I was already as good as under arrest. -What a fool I had been to discuss such a matter in a place like a -stable yard, however apparently empty. I might have known that at -a school there are no empty places. - -'I must say it jarred me when I heard you pulling that stuff,' -continued White. 'I haven't what you might call a childlike faith -in my fellow-man as a rule, but it had never occurred to me for a -moment that you could be playing that game. It only shows,' he -added philosophically, 'that you've got to suspect everybody when -it comes to a gilt-edged proposition like the Little Nugget.' - -The train rattled on. I tried to reduce my mind to working order, -to formulate some plan, but could not. - -Beyond the realization that I was in the tightest corner of my -life, I seemed to have lost the power of thought. - -White resumed his monologue. - -'You had me guessing,' he admitted. 'I couldn't figure you out. -First thing, of course, I thought you must be working in with Buck -MacGinnis and his crowd. Then all that happened tonight, and I saw -that, whoever you might be working in with, it wasn't Buck. And -now I've placed you. You're not in with any one. You're just -playing it by yourself. I shouldn't mind betting this was your -first job, and that you saw your chance of making a pile by -holding up old man Ford, and thought it was better than -schoolmastering, and grabbed it.' - -He leaned forward and tapped me on the knee again. There was -something indescribably irritating in the action. As one who has -had experience, I can state that, while to be arrested at all is -bad, to be arrested by a detective with a fatherly manner is -maddening. - -'See here,' he said, 'we must get together over this business.' - -I suppose it was the recollection of the same words in the mouth -of Buck MacGinnis that made me sit up with a jerk and stare at -him. - -'We'll make a great team,' he said, still in that same cosy voice. -'If ever there was a case of fifty-fifty, this is it. You've got -the kid, and I've got you. I can't get away with him without your -help, and you can't get away with him unless you square me. It's a -stand-off. The only thing is to sit in at the game together and -share out. Does it go?' - -He beamed kindly on my bewilderment during the space of time it -takes to select a cigarette and light a match. Then, blowing a -contented puff of smoke, he crossed his legs and leaned back. - -'When I told you I was a Pinkerton's man, sonny,' he said, 'I -missed the cold truth by about a mile. But you caught me shooting -off guns in the grounds, and it was up to me to say something.' - -He blew a smoke-ring and watched it dreamily till it melted in the -draught from the ventilator. - -'I'm Smooth Sam Fisher,' he said. - - -II - -When two emotions clash, the weaker goes to the wall. Any surprise -I might have felt was swallowed up in my relief. If I had been at -liberty to be astonished, my companion's information would no -doubt have astonished me. But I was not. I was so relieved that he -was not a Pinkerton's man that I did not really care what else he -might be. - -'It's always been a habit of mine, in these little matters,' he -went on, 'to let other folks do the rough work, and chip in myself -when they've cleared the way. It saves trouble and expense. I -don't travel with a gang, like that bone-headed Buck. What's the -use of a gang? They only get tumbling over each other and spoiling -everything. Look at Buck! Where is he? Down and out. While I--' - -He smiled complacently. His manner annoyed me. I objected to being -looked upon as a humble cat's paw by this bland scoundrel. - -'While you--what?' I said. - -He looked at me in mild surprise. - -'Why, I come in with you, sonny, and take my share like a -gentleman.' - -'Do you!' - -'Well, don't I?' - -He looked at me in the half-reproachful half-affectionate manner -of the kind old uncle who reasons with a headstrong nephew. - -'Young man,' he said, 'you surely aren't thinking you can put one -over on me in this business? Tell me, you don't take me for that -sort of ivory-skulled boob? Do you imagine for one instant, sonny, -that I'm not next to every move in this game? Are you deluding -yourself with the idea that this thing isn't a perfect cinch for -me? Let's hear what's troubling you. You seem to have gotten some -foolish ideas in your head. Let's talk it over quietly.' - -'If you have no objection,' I said, 'no. I don't want to talk to -you, Mr Fisher. I don't like you, and I don't like your way of -earning your living. Buck MacGinnis was bad enough, but at least -he was a straightforward tough. There's no excuse for you.' - -'Surely we are unusually righteous this p.m., are we not?' said -Sam suavely. - -I did not answer. - -'Is this not mere professional jealousy?' - -This was too much for me. - -'Do you imagine for a moment that I'm doing this for money?' - -'I did have that impression. Was I wrong? Do you kidnap the sons -of millionaires for your health?' - -'I promised that I would get this boy back to his mother. That is -why I gave him the money to go to London. And that is why my valet -was to have taken him to--to where Mrs Ford is.' - -He did not reply in words, but if ever eyebrows spoke, his said, -'My dear sir, really!' I could not remain silent under their -patent disbelief. - -'That's the simple truth,' I said. - -He shrugged his shoulders, as who would say, 'Have it your own -way. Let us change the subject.' - -'You say "was to have taken". Have you changed your plans?' - -'Yes, I'm going to take the boy back to the school.' - -He laughed--a rich, rolling laugh. His double chin shook -comfortably. - -'It won't do,' he said, shaking his head with humorous reproach. -'It won't do.' - -'You don't believe me?' - -'Frankly, I do not.' - -'Very well,' I said, and began to read my book. - -'If you want to give me the slip,' he chuckled, 'you must do -better than that. I can see you bringing the Nugget back to the -school.' - -'You will, if you wait,' I said. - -'I wonder what that address was that you gave him,' he mused. -'Well, I shall soon know.' - -He lapsed into silence. The train rolled on. I looked at my watch. -London was not far off now. - -'The present arrangement of equal division,' said Sam, breaking a -long silence, 'holds good, of course, only in the event of your -quitting this fool game and doing the square thing by me. Let me -put it plainly. We are either partners or competitors. It is for -you to decide. If you will be sensible and tell me that address, I -will pledge my word--' - -'Your word!' I said scornfully. - -'Honour among thieves!' replied Sam, with unruffled geniality. 'I -wouldn't double-cross you for worlds. If, however, you think you -can manage without my assistance, it will then be my melancholy -duty to beat you to the kid, and collect him and the money -entirely on my own account. Am I to take it,' he said, as I was -silent, 'that you prefer war to an alliance?' - -I turned a page of my book and went on reading. - -'If Youth but knew!' he sighed. 'Young man, I am nearly twice your -age, and I have, at a modest estimate, about ten times as much -sense. Yet, in your overweening self-confidence, with your -ungovernable gall, you fancy you can hand me a lemon. _Me!_ I -should smile!' - -'Do,' I said. 'Do, while you can.' - -He shook his head reprovingly. - -'You will not be so fresh, sonny, in a few hours. You will be -biting pieces out of yourself, I fear. And later on, when my -automobile splashes you with mud in Piccadilly, you will taste the -full bitterness of remorse. Well, Youth must buy its experience, I -suppose!' - -I looked across at him as he sat, plump and rosy and complacent, -puffing at his cigarette, and my heart warmed to the old ruffian. -It was impossible to maintain an attitude of righteous iciness -with him. I might loathe his mode of life, and hate him as a -representative--and a leading representative--of one of the most -contemptible trades on earth, but there was a sunny charm about -the man himself which made it hard to feel hostile to him as an -individual. - -I closed my book with a bang and burst out laughing. - -'You're a wonder!' I said. - -He beamed at what he took to be evidence that I was coming round -to the friendly and sensible view of the matter. - -'Then you think, on consideration--' he said. 'Excellent! Now, my -dear young man, all joking aside, you will take me with you to -that address, will you not? You observe that I do not ask you to -give it to me. Let there be not so much as the faintest odour of -the double-cross about this business. All I ask is that you allow -me to accompany you to where the Nugget is hidden, and then rely -on my wider experience of this sort of game to get him safely away -and open negotiations with the dad.' - -'I suppose your experience has been wide?' I said. - -'Quite tolerably--quite tolerably.' - -'Doesn't it ever worry you the anxiety and misery you cause?' - -'Purely temporary, both. And then, look at it in another way. -Think of the joy and relief of the bereaved parents when sonny -comes toddling home again! Surely it is worth some temporary -distress to taste that supreme happiness? In a sense, you might -call me a human benefactor. I teach parents to appreciate their -children. You know what parents are. Father gets caught short in -steel rails one morning. When he reaches home, what does he do? He -eases his mind by snapping at little Willie. Mrs Van First-Family -forgets to invite mother to her freak-dinner. What happens? Mother -takes it out of William. They love him, maybe, but they are too -used to him. They do not realize all he is to them. And then, one -afternoon, he disappears. The agony! The remorse! "How could I -ever have told our lost angel to stop his darned noise!" moans -father. "I struck him!" sobs mother. "With this jewelled hand I -spanked our vanished darling!" "We were not worthy to have him," -they wail together. "But oh, if we could but get him back!" Well -they do. They get him back as soon as ever they care to come -across in unmarked hundred-dollar bills. And after that they think -twice before working off their grouches on the poor kid. So I -bring universal happiness into the home. I don't say father -doesn't get a twinge every now and then when he catches sight of -the hole in his bank balance, but, darn it, what's money for if -it's not to spend?' - -He snorted with altruistic fervour. - -'What makes you so set on kidnapping Ogden Ford?' I asked. 'I know -he is valuable, but you must have made your pile by this time. I -gather that you have been practising your particular brand of -philanthropy for a good many years. Why don't you retire?' - -He sighed. - -'It is the dream of my life to retire, young man. You may not -believe me, but my instincts are thoroughly domestic. When I have -the leisure to weave day-dreams, they centre around a cosy little -home with a nice porch and stationary washtubs.' - -He regarded me closely, as if to decide whether I was worthy of -these confidences. There was something wistful in his brown eyes. -I suppose the inspection must have been favourable, or he was in a -mood when a man must unbosom himself to someone, for he proceeded -to open his heart to me. A man in his particular line of business, -I imagine, finds few confidants, and the strain probably becomes -intolerable at times. - -'Have you ever experienced the love of a good woman, sonny? It's a -wonderful thing.' He brooded sentimentally for a moment, then -continued, and--to my mind--somewhat spoiled the impressiveness of -his opening words. 'The love of a good woman,' he said, 'is about -the darnedest wonderful lay-out that ever came down the pike. I -know. I've had some.' - -A spark from his cigarette fell on his hand. He swore a startled -oath. - -'We came from the same old town,' he resumed, having recovered -from this interlude. 'Used to be kids at the same school ... -Walked to school together ... me carrying her luncheon-basket and -helping her over the fences ... Ah! ... Just the same when we grew -up. Still pals. And that was twenty years ago ... The arrangement -was that I should go out and make the money to buy the home, and -then come back and marry her.' - -'Then why the devil haven't you done it?' I said severely. - -He shook his head. - -'If you know anything about crooks, young man,' he said, 'you'll -know that outside of their own line they are the easiest marks that -ever happened. They fall for anything. At least, it's always been -that way with me. No sooner did I get together a sort of pile and -start out for the old town, when some smooth stranger would come -along and steer me up against some skin-game, and back I'd have to -go to work. That happened a few times, and when I did manage at -last to get home with the dough I found she had married another -guy. It's hard on women, you see,' he explained chivalrously. 'They -get lonesome and Roving Rupert doesn't show up, so they have to -marry Stay-at-Home Henry just to keep from getting the horrors.' - -'So she's Mrs Stay-at-Home Henry now?' I said sympathetically. - -'She was till a year ago. She's a widow now. Deceased had a -misunderstanding with a hydrophobia skunk, so I'm informed. I -believe he was a good man. Outside of licking him at school I -didn't know him well. I saw her just before I left to come here. -She's as fond of me as ever. It's all settled, if only I can -connect with the mazuma. And she don't want much, either. Just -enough to keep the home together.' - -'I wish you happiness,' I said. - -'You can do better than that. You can take me with you to that -address.' - -I avoided the subject. - -'What does she say to your way of making money?' I asked. - -'She doesn't know, and she ain't going to know. I don't see why a -man has got to tell his wife every little thing in his past. She -thinks I'm a drummer, travelling in England for a dry-goods firm. -She wouldn't stand for the other thing, not for a minute. She's -very particular. Always was. That's why I'm going to quit after -I've won out over this thing of the Little Nugget.' He looked at -me hopefully. 'So you _will_ take me along, sonny, won't you?' - -I shook my head. - -'You won't?' - -'I'm sorry to spoil a romance, but I can't. You must look around -for some other home into which to bring happiness. The Fords' is -barred.' - -'You are very obstinate, young man,' he said, sadly, but without -any apparent ill-feeling. 'I can't persuade you?' - -'No.' - -'Ah, well! So we are to be rivals, not allies. You will regret -this, sonny. I may say you will regret it very bitterly. When you -see me in my automo--' - -'You mentioned your automobile before.' - -'Ah! So I did.' - -The train had stopped, as trains always do on English railways -before entering a terminus. Presently it began to move forward -hesitatingly, as if saying to itself, 'Now, am I really wanted -here? Shall I be welcome?' Eventually, after a second halt, it -glided slowly alongside the platform. - -I sprang out and ran to the cab-rank. I was aboard a taxi, bowling -out of the station before the train had stopped. - -Peeping out of the window at the back, I was unable to see Sam. My -adroit move, I took it, had baffled him. I had left him standing. - -It was a quarter of an hour's drive to my rooms, but to me, in my -anxiety, it seemed more. This was going to be a close thing, and -success or failure a matter of minutes. If he followed my -instructions Smith would be starting for the Continental boat-train -tonight with his companion; and, working out the distances, -I saw that, by the time I could arrive, he might already have left -my rooms. Sam's supervision at Sanstead Station had made it -impossible for me to send a telegram. I had had to trust to -chance. Fortunately my train, by a miracle, had been up to time, -and at my present rate of progress I ought to catch Smith a few -minutes before he left the building. - -The cab pulled up. I ran up the stairs and opened the door of my -apartment. - -'Smith!' I called. - -A chair scraped along the floor and a door opened at the end of -the passage. Smith came out. - -'Thank goodness you have not started. I thought I should miss you. -Where is the boy?' - -'The boy, sir?' - -'The boy I wrote to you about.' - -'He has not arrived, sir.' - -'Not arrived?' - -'No, sir.' - -I stared at him blankly. - -'How long have you been here?' - -'All day, sir.' - -'You have not been out?' - -'Not since the hour of two, sir.' - -'I can't understand it,' I said. - -'Perhaps the young gentleman changed his mind and never started, -sir?' - -'I know he started.' - -Smith had no further suggestion to offer. - -'Pending the young gentleman's arrival, sir, I remain in London?' - -A fruity voice spoke at the door behind me. - -'What! Hasn't he arrived?' - -I turned. There, beaming and benevolent, stood Mr Fisher. - -'It occurred to me to look your name out in the telephone -directory,' he explained. 'I might have thought of that before.' - -'Come in here,' I said, opening the door of the sitting-room. I -did not want to discuss the thing with him before Smith. - -He looked about the room admiringly. - -'So these are your quarters,' he said. 'You do yourself pretty -well, young man. So I understand that the Nugget has gone wrong in -transit. He has altered his plans on the way?' - -'I can't understand it.' - -'I can! You gave him a certain amount of money?' - -'Yes. Enough to get him to--where he was going.' - -'Then, knowing the boy, I should say that he has found other uses -for it. He's whooping it up in London, and, I should fancy, having -the time of his young life.' - -He got up. - -'This of course,' he said, 'alters considerably any understanding -we may have come to, sonny. All idea of a partnership is now out -of the question. I wish you well, but I have no further use for -you. Somewhere in this great city the Little Nugget is hiding, and -I mean to find him--entirely on my own account. This is where our -paths divide, Mr Burns. Good night.' - - - - -Chapter 10 - - -When Sam had left, which he did rather in the manner of a heavy -father in melodrama, shaking the dust of an erring son's threshold -off his feet, I mixed myself a high-ball, and sat down to consider -the position of affairs. It did not take me long to see that the -infernal boy had double-crossed me with a smooth effectiveness -which Mr Fisher himself might have envied. Somewhere in this great -city, as Sam had observed, he was hiding. But where? London is a -vague address. - -I wondered what steps Sam was taking. Was there some underground -secret service bureau to which persons of his profession had -access? I doubted it. I imagined that he, as I proposed to do, was -drawing the city at a venture in the hope of flushing the quarry -by accident. Yet such was the impression he had made upon me as a -man of resource and sagacity, that I did not relish the idea of -his getting a start on me, even in a venture so uncertain as this. -My imagination began to picture him miraculously inspired in the -search, and such was the vividness of the vision that I jumped up -from my chair, resolved to get on the trail at once. It was -hopelessly late, however, and I did not anticipate that I should -meet with any success. - -Nor did I. For two hours and a half I tramped the streets, my -spirits sinking more and more under the influence of failure and a -blend of snow and sleet which had begun to fall; and then, tired -out, I went back to my rooms, and climbed sorrowfully into bed. - -It was odd to wake up and realize that I was in London. Years -seemed to have passed since I had left it. Time is a thing of -emotions, not of hours and minutes, and I had certainly packed a -considerable number of emotional moments into my stay at Sanstead -House. I lay in bed, reviewing the past, while Smith, with a -cheerful clatter of crockery, prepared my breakfast in the next -room. - -A curious lethargy had succeeded the feverish energy of the -previous night. More than ever the impossibility of finding the -needle in this human bundle of hay oppressed me. No one is -optimistic before breakfast, and I regarded the future with dull -resignation, turning my thoughts from it after a while to the -past. But the past meant Audrey, and to think of Audrey hurt. - -It seemed curious to me that in a life of thirty years I should -have been able to find, among the hundreds of women I had met, -only one capable of creating in me that disquieting welter of -emotions which is called love, and hard that that one should -reciprocate my feeling only to the extent of the mild liking which -Audrey entertained for me. - -I tried to analyse her qualifications for the place she held in my -heart. I had known women who had attracted me more physically, and -women who had attracted me more mentally. I had known wiser women, -handsomer women, more amiable women, but none of them had affected -me like Audrey. The problem was inexplicable. Any idea that we -might be affinities, soul-mates destined for each other from the -beginning of time, was disposed of by the fact that my attraction -for her was apparently in inverse ratio to hers for me. For -possibly the millionth time in the past five years I tried to -picture in my mind the man Sheridan, that shadowy wooer to whom -she had yielded so readily. What quality had he possessed that I -did not? Wherein lay the magnetism that had brought about his -triumph? - -These were unprofitable speculations. I laid them aside until the -next occasion when I should feel disposed for self-torture, and -got out of bed. A bath and breakfast braced me up, and I left the -house in a reasonably cheerful frame of mind. - -To search at random for an individual unit among London's millions -lends an undeniable attraction to a day in town. In a desultory -way I pursued my investigations through the morning and afternoon, -but neither of Ogden nor of his young friend Lord Beckford was I -vouchsafed a glimpse. My consolation was that Smooth Sam was -probably being equally unsuccessful. - -Towards the evening there arose the question of return to -Sanstead. I had not gathered whether Mr Abney had intended to set -any time-limit on my wanderings, or whether I was not supposed to -come back except with the deserters. I decided that I had better -remain in London, at any rate for another night, and went to the -nearest post office to send Mr Abney a telegram to that effect. - -As I was writing it, the problem which had baffled me for twenty-four -hours, solved itself in under a minute. Whether my powers of -inductive reasoning had been under a cloud since I left Sanstead, -or whether they were normally beneath contempt, I do not know. But -the fact remains, that I had completely overlooked the obvious -solution of my difficulty. I think I must have been thinking so -exclusively of the Little Nugget that I had entirely forgotten the -existence of Augustus Beckford. It occurred to me now that, by -making inquiries at the latter's house, I should learn something -to my advantage. A boy of the Augustus type does not run away from -school without a reason. Probably some party was taking place -tonight at the ancestral home, at which, tempted by the lawless -Nugget, he had decided that his presence was necessary. - -I knew the house well. There had been a time, when Lord Mountry -and I were at Oxford, when I had spent frequent week-ends there. -Since then, owing to being abroad, I had seen little of the -family. Now was the moment to reintroduce myself. I hailed a cab. - -Inductive reasoning had not played me false. There was a red -carpet outside the house, and from within came the sounds of -music. - -Lady Wroxham, the mother of Mountry and the vanishing Augustus, -was one of those women who take things as they come. She did not -seem surprised at seeing me. - -'How nice of you to come and see us,' she said. 'Somebody told me -you were abroad. Ted is in the south of France in the yacht. -Augustus is here. Mr Abney, his schoolmaster, let him come up for -the night.' - -I perceived that Augustus had been playing a bold game. I saw the -coaching of Ogden behind these dashing falsehoods. - -'You will hardly remember Sybil. She was quite a baby when you -were here last. She is having her birthday-party this evening.' - -'May I go in and help?' I said. - -'I wish you would. They would love it.' - -I doubted it, but went in. A dance had just finished. Strolling -towards me in his tightest Eton suit, his face shining with honest -joy, was the errant Augustus, and close behind him, wearing the -blase' air of one for whom custom has staled the pleasures of life, -was the Little Nugget. - -I think they both saw me at the same moment. The effect of my -appearance on them was illustrative of their respective characters. -Augustus turned a deep shade of purple and fixed me with a -horrified stare. The Nugget winked. Augustus halted and shuffled -his feet. The Nugget strolled up and accosted me like an old -friend. - -'Hello!' he said. 'How did you get here? Say, I was going to try -and get you on the phone some old time and explain things. I've -been pretty much on the jump since I hit London.' - -'You little brute!' - -My gleaming eye, travelling past him, met that of the Hon. -Augustus Beckford, causing that youth to jump guiltily. The Nugget -looked over his shoulder. - -'I guess we don't want him around if we're to talk business,' he -said. 'I'll go and tell him to beat it.' - -'You'll do nothing of the kind. I don't propose to lose sight of -either of you.' - -'Oh, he's all right. You don't have to worry about him. He was -going back to the school anyway tomorrow. He only ran away to go -to this party. Why not let him enjoy himself while he's here? I'll -go and make a date for you to meet at the end of the show.' - -He approached his friend, and a short colloquy ensued, which ended -in the latter shuffling off in the direction of the other -revellers. Such is the buoyancy of youth that a moment later he -was dancing a two-step with every appearance of careless enjoyment. -The future, with its storms, seemed to have slipped from his mind. - -'That's all right,' said the Nugget, returning to me. 'He's -promised he won't duck away. You'll find him somewhere around -whenever you care to look for him. Now we can talk.' - -'I hardly like to trespass on your valuable time,' I said. The -airy way in which this demon boy handled what should have been--to -him--an embarrassing situation irritated me. For all the authority -I seemed to have over him I might have been the potted palm -against which he was leaning. - -'That's all right.' Everything appeared to be all right with him. -'This sort of thing does not appeal to me. Don't be afraid of -spoiling my evening. I only came because Becky was so set on it. -Dancing bores me pallid, so let's get somewhere where we can sit -down and talk.' - -I was beginning to feel that a children's party was the right -place for me. Sam Fisher had treated me as a child, and so did the -Little Nugget. That I was a responsible person, well on in my -thirty-first year, with a narrow escape from death and a hopeless -love-affair on my record, seemed to strike neither of them. I -followed my companion to a secluded recess with the utmost -meekness. - -He leaned back and crossed his legs. - -'Got a cigarette?' - -'I have not got a cigarette, and, if I had, I wouldn't give it to -you.' - -He regarded me tolerantly. - -'Got a grouch tonight, haven't you? You seem all flittered up -about something. What's the trouble? Sore about my not showing up -at your apartment? I'll explain that all right.' - -'I shall be glad to listen.' - -'It's like this. It suddenly occurred to me that a day or two one -way or the other wasn't going to affect our deal and that, while I -was about it, I might just as well see a bit of London before I -left. I suggested it to Becky, and the idea made the biggest kind -of a hit with him. I found he had only been in an automobile once -in his life. Can you beat it? I've had one of my own ever since -I was a kid. Well, naturally, it was up to me to blow him to a -joy-ride, and that's where the money went.' - -'Where the money went?' - -'Sure. I've got two dollars left, and that's all. It wasn't -altogether the automobiling. It was the meals that got away with -my roll. Say, that kid Beckford is one swell feeder. He's wrapping -himself around the eats all the time. I guess it's not smoking -that does it. I haven't the appetite I used to have. Well, that's -how it was, you see. But I'm through now. Cough up the fare and -I'll make the trip tomorrow. Mother'll be tickled to death to see -me.' - -'She won't see you. We're going back to the school tomorrow.' - -He looked at me incredulously. - -'What's that? Going back to school?' - -'I've altered my plans.' - -'I'm not going back to any old school. You daren't take me. -Where'll you be if I tell the hot-air merchant about our deal and -you slipping me the money and all that?' - -'Tell him what you like. He won't believe it.' - -He thought this over, and its truth came home to him. The -complacent expression left his face. - -'What's the matter with you? Are you dippy, or what? You get me -away up to London, and the first thing that happens when I'm here -is that you want to take me back. You make me tired.' - -It was borne in upon me that there was something in his point of -view. My sudden change of mind must have seemed inexplicable to -him. And, having by a miracle succeeded in finding him, I was in a -mood to be generous. I unbent. - -'Ogden, old sport,' I said cordially, T think we've both had all -we want of this children's party. You're bored and if I stop on -another half hour I may be called on to entertain these infants -with comic songs. We men of the world are above this sort of -thing. Get your hat and coat and I'll take you to a show. We can -discuss business later over a bit of supper.' - -The gloom of his countenance melted into a pleased smile. - -'You said something that time!' he observed joyfully; and we slunk -away to get our hats, the best of friends. A note for Augustus -Beckford, requesting his presence at Waterloo Station at ten -minutes past twelve on the following morning, I left with the -butler. There was a certain informality about my methods which I -doubt if Mr Abney would have approved, but I felt that I could -rely on Augustus. - -Much may be done by kindness. By the time the curtain fell on the -musical comedy which we had attended all was peace between the -Nugget and myself. Supper cemented our friendship, and we drove -back to my rooms on excellent terms with one another. Half an hour -later he was snoring in the spare room, while I smoked contentedly -before the fire in the sitting-room. - -I had not been there five minutes when the bell rang. Smith was in -bed, so I went to the door myself and found Mr Fisher on the mat. - -My feeling of benevolence towards all created things, the result -of my successful handling of the Little Nugget, embraced Sam. I -invited him in. - -'Well,' I said, when I had given him a cigar and filled his glass, -'and how have you been getting on, Mr Fisher? Any luck?' - -He shook his head at me reproachfully. - -'Young man, you're deep. I've got to hand it to you. I -underestimated you. You're very deep.' - -'Approbation from Smooth Sam Fisher is praise indeed. But why -these stately compliments?' - -'You took me in, young man. I don't mind owning it. When you told -me the Nugget had gone astray, I lapped it up like a babe. And all -the time you were putting one over on me. Well, well!' - -'But he had gone astray, Mr Fisher.' - -He knocked the ash off his cigar. He wore a pained look. - -'You needn't keep it up, sonny. I happened to be standing within -three yards of you when you got into a cab with him in Shaftesbury -Avenue.' - -I laughed. - -'Well, if that's the case, let there be no secrets between us. -He's asleep in the next room.' - -Sam leaned forward earnestly and tapped me on the knee. - -'Young man, this is a critical moment. This is where, if you -aren't careful, you may undo all the good work you have done by -getting chesty and thinking that, because you've won out so far, -you're the whole show. Believe me, the difficult part is to come, -and it's right here that you need an experienced man to work in -with you. Let me in on this and leave the negotiations with old -man Ford to me. You would only make a mess of them. I've handled -this kind of thing a dozen times, and I know just how to act. You -won't regret taking me on as a partner. You won't lose a cent by -it. I can work him for just double what you would get, even -supposing you didn't make a mess of the deal and get nothing.' - -'It's very good of you, but there won't be any negotiations with -Mr Ford. I am taking the boy back to Sanstead, as I told you.' I -caught his pained eye. 'I'm afraid you don't believe me.' - -He drew at his cigar without replying. - -It is a human weakness to wish to convince those who doubt us, -even if their opinion is not intrinsically valuable. I remembered -that I had Cynthia's letter in my pocket. I produced it as exhibit -A in my evidence and read it to him. - -Sam listened carefully. - -'I see,' he said. 'Who wrote that?' - -'Never mind. A friend of mine.' - -I returned the letter to my pocket. - -'I was going to have sent him over to Monaco, but I altered my -plans. Something interfered.' - -'What?' - -'I might call it coincidence, if you know what that means.' - -'And you are really going to take him back to the school?' - -'I am.' - -'We shall travel back together,' he said. 'I had hoped I had seen -the last of the place. The English countryside may be delightful -in the summer, but for winter give me London. However,' he sighed -resignedly, and rose from his chair, 'I will say good-bye till -tomorrow. What train do you catch?' - -'Do you mean to say,' I demanded, 'that you have the nerve to come -back to Sanstead after what you have told me about yourself?' - -'You entertain some idea of exposing me to Mr Abney? Forget it, -young man. We are both in glass houses. Don't let us throw stones. -Besides, would he believe it? What proof have you?' - -I had thought this argument tolerably sound when I had used it on -the Nugget. Now that it was used on myself I realized its -soundness even more thoroughly. My hands were tied. - -'Yes,' said Sam, 'tomorrow, after our little jaunt to London, we -shall all resume the quiet, rural life once more.' - -He beamed expansively upon me from the doorway. - -'However, even the quiet, rural life has its interest. I guess we -shan't be dull!' he said. - -I believed him. - - - - -Chapter 11 - - -Considering the various handicaps under which he laboured notably -a cold in the head, a fear of the Little Nugget, and a reverence -for the aristocracy--Mr Abney's handling of the situation, when -the runaways returned to school, bordered on the masterly. Any sort -of physical punishment being out of the question--especially in the -case of the Nugget, who would certainly have retaliated with a bout -of window-breaking--he had to fall back on oratory, and he did this -to such effect that, when he had finished, Augustus wept openly and -was so subdued that he did not ask a single question for nearly three -days. - -One result of the adventure was that Ogden's bed was moved to a -sort of cubby-hole adjoining my room. In the house, as originally -planned, this had evidently been a dressing-room. Under Mr Abney's -rule it had come to be used as a general repository for lumber. My -boxes were there, and a portmanteau of Glossop's. It was an -excellent place in which to bestow a boy in quest of whom -kidnappers might break in by night. The window was too small to -allow a man to pass through, and the only means of entrance was by -way of my room. By night, at any rate, the Nugget's safety seemed -to be assured. - -The curiosity of the small boy, fortunately, is not lasting. His -active mind lives mainly in the present. It was not many days, -therefore, before the excitement caused by Buck's raid and the -Nugget's disappearance began to subside. Within a week both -episodes had been shelved as subjects of conversation, and the -school had settled down to its normal humdrum life. - -To me, however, there had come a period of mental unrest more -acute than I had ever experienced. My life, for the past five -years, had run in so smooth a stream that, now that I found myself -tossed about in the rapids, I was bewildered. It was a peculiar -aggravation of the difficulty of my position that in my world, the -little world of Sanstead House, there should be but one woman, and -she the very one whom, if I wished to recover my peace of mind, it -was necessary for me to avoid. - -My feelings towards Cynthia at this time defied my powers of -analysis. There were moments when I clung to the memory of her, -when she seemed the only thing solid and safe in a world of chaos, -and moments, again, when she was a burden crushing me. There were -days when I would give up the struggle and let myself drift, and -days when I would fight myself inch by inch. But every day found -my position more hopeless than the last. - -At night sometimes, as I lay awake, I would tell myself that if -only I could see her or even hear from her the struggle would be -easier. It was her total disappearance from my life that made it -so hard for me. I had nothing to help me to fight. - -And then, one morning, as if in answer to my thoughts her letter -came. - -The letter startled me. It was as if there had been some -telepathic communion between us. - -It was very short, almost formal: - -'MY DEAR PETER--I want to ask you a question. I can put it quite -shortly. It is this. Are your feelings towards me still the same? -I don't tell you why I ask this. I simply ask it. Whatever your -answer is, it cannot affect our friendship, so be quite candid. -CYNTHIA.' - -I sat down there and then to write my reply. The letter, coming -when it did and saying what it said, had affected me profoundly. -It was like an unexpected reinforcement in a losing battle. It -filled me with a glow of self-confidence. I felt strong again, -able to fight and win. My mood bore me away, and I poured out my -whole heart to her. I told her that my feelings had not altered, -that I loved her and nobody but her. It was a letter, I can see, -looking back, born of fretted nerves; but at the time I had no -such criticism to make. It seemed to me a true expression of my -real feelings. - -That the fight was not over because in my moment of exaltation I -had imagined that I had conquered myself was made uncomfortably -plain to me by the thrill that ran through me when, returning from -posting my letter, I met Audrey. The sight of her reminded me that -a reinforcement is only a reinforcement, a help towards victory, -not victory itself. - -For the first time I found myself feeling resentful towards her. -There was no reason in my resentment. It would not have borne -examination. But it was there, and its presence gave me support. I -found myself combating the thrill the sight of her had caused, and -looking at her with a critical and hostile eye. Who was she that -she should enslave a man against his will? Fascination exists only -in the imagination of the fascinated. If he have the strength to -deny the fascination and convince himself that it does not exist, -he is saved. It is purely a matter of willpower and calm -reasonableness. There must have been sturdy, level-headed Egyptian -citizens who could not understand what people saw to admire in -Cleopatra. - -Thus reasoning, I raised my hat, uttered a crisp 'Good morning', -and passed on, the very picture of the brisk man of affairs. - -'Peter!' - -Even the brisk man of affairs must stop when spoken to. Otherwise, -apart from any question of politeness, it looks as if he were -running away. - -Her face was still wearing the faint look of surprise which my -manner had called forth. - -'You're in a great hurry.' - -I had no answer. She did not appear to expect one. - -We moved towards the house in silence, to me oppressive silence. -The force of her personality was beginning to beat against my -defences, concerning the stability of which, under pressure, a -certain uneasiness troubled my mind. - -'Are you worried about anything, Peter?' she said at last. - -'No,' I said. 'Why?' - -'I was afraid you might be.' - -I felt angry with myself. I was mismanaging this thing in the most -idiotic way. Instead of this bovine silence, gay small-talk, the -easy eloquence, in fact, of the brisk man of affairs should have -been my policy. No wonder Smooth Sam Fisher treated me as a child. -My whole bearing was that of a sulky school-boy. - -The silence became more oppressive. - -We reached the house. In the hall we parted, she to upper regions, -I to my classroom. She did not look at me. Her face was cold and -offended. - -One is curiously inconsistent. Having created what in the -circumstances was a most desirable coldness between Audrey and -myself, I ought to have been satisfied. Reason told me that this -was the best thing that could have happened. Yet joy was one of -the few emotions which I did not feel during the days which -followed. My brief moment of clear-headedness had passed, and with -it the exhilaration that had produced the letter to Cynthia and -the resentment which had helped me to reason calmly with myself on -the intrinsic nature of fascination in woman. Once more Audrey -became the centre of my world. But our friendship, that elusive -thing which had contrived to exist side by side with my love, had -vanished. There was a breach between us which widened daily. Soon -we hardly spoke. - -Nothing, in short, could have been more eminently satisfactory, -and the fact that I regretted it is only a proof of the essential -weakness of my character. - - - - -Chapter 12 - - -I - -In those grey days there was one thought, of the many that -occupied my mind, which brought with it a certain measure of -consolation. It was the reflection that this state of affairs -could not last for ever. The school term was drawing to a close. -Soon I should be free from the propinquity which paralysed my -efforts to fight. I was resolved that the last day of term should -end for ever my connection with Sanstead House and all that was in -it. Mrs Ford must find some other minion. If her happiness -depended on the recovery of the Little Nugget, she must learn to -do without happiness, like the rest of the inhabitants of this -horrible world. - -Meanwhile, however, I held myself to be still on duty. By what -tortuous processes of thought I had arrived at the conclusion I do -not know, but I considered myself responsible to Audrey for the -safeguarding of the Little Nugget, and no altered relations -between us could affect my position. Perhaps mixed up with this -attitude of mind, was the less altruistic wish to foil Smooth Sam. -His continued presence at the school was a challenge to me. - -Sam's behaviour puzzled me. I do not know exactly what I expected -him to do, but I certainly did not expect him to do nothing. Yet -day followed day, and still he made no move. He was the very model -of a butler. But our dealings with one another in London had left -me vigilant, and his inaction did not disarm me. It sprang from -patience, not from any weakening of purpose or despair of success. -Sooner or later I knew he would act, swiftly and suddenly, with a -plan perfected in every detail. - -But when he made his attack it was the very simplicity of his -methods that tricked me, and only pure chance defeated him. - -I have said that it was the custom of the staff of masters at -Sanstead House School--in other words, of every male adult in the -house except Mr Fisher himself--to assemble in Mr Abney's study -after dinner of an evening to drink coffee. It was a ceremony, -like most of the ceremonies at an establishment such as a school, -where things are run on a schedule, which knew of no variation. -Sometimes Mr Abney would leave us immediately after the ceremony, -but he never omitted to take his part in it first. - -On this particular evening, for the first time since the beginning -of the term, I was seized with a prejudice against coffee. I had -been sleeping badly for several nights, and I decided that -abstention from coffee might remedy this. - -I waited, for form's sake, till Glossop and Mr Abney had filled -their cups, then went to my room, where I lay down in the dark to -wrestle with a more than usually pronounced fit of depression -which had descended upon me. Solitude and darkness struck me as -the suitable setting for my thoughts. - -At this moment Smooth Sam Fisher had no place in my meditations. -My mind was not occupied with him at all. When, therefore, the -door, which had been ajar, began to open slowly, I did not become -instantly on the alert. Perhaps it was some sound, barely audible, -that aroused me from my torpor and set my blood tingling with -anticipation. Perhaps it was the way the door was opening. An -honest draught does not move a door furtively, in jerks. - -I sat up noiseless, tense, and alert. And then, very quietly, -somebody entered the room. - -There was only one person in Sanstead House who would enter a room -like that. I was amused. The impudence of the thing tickled me. It -seemed so foreign to Mr Fisher's usual cautious methods. This -strolling in and helping oneself was certainly kidnapping _de -luxe_. In the small hours I could have understood it; but at -nine o'clock at night, with Glossop, Mr Abney and myself awake and -liable to be met at any moment on the stairs, it was absurd. I -marvelled at Smooth Sam's effrontery. - -I lay still. I imagined that, being in, he would switch on the -electric light. He did, and I greeted him pleasantly. - -'And what can I do for _you_, Mr Fisher?' - -For a man who had learned to control himself in difficult -situations he took the shock badly. He uttered a startled -exclamation and spun round, open-mouthed. - -I could not help admiring the quickness with which he recovered -himself. Almost immediately he was the suave, chatty Sam Fisher -who had unbosomed his theories and dreams to me in the train to -London. - -'I quit,' he said pleasantly. 'The episode is closed. I am a man -of peace, and I take it that you would not keep on lying quietly -on that bed while I went into the other room and abstracted our -young friend? Unless you have changed your mind again, would a -fifty-fifty offer tempt you?' - -'Not an inch.' - -'Just so. I merely asked.' - -'And how about Mr Abney, in any case? Suppose we met him on the -stairs?' - -'We should not meet him on the stairs,' said Sam confidently. 'You -did not take coffee tonight, I gather?' - -'I didn't--no. Why?' - -He jerked his head resignedly. - -'Can you beat it! I ask you, young man, could I have foreseen -that, after drinking coffee every night regularly for two months, -you would pass it up tonight of all nights? You certainly are my -jinx, sonny. You have hung the Indian sign on me all right.' - -His words had brought light to me. - -'Did you drug the coffee?' - -'Did I! I fixed it so that one sip would have an insomnia patient -in dreamland before he had time to say "Good night". That stuff -Rip Van Winkle drank had nothing on my coffee. And all wasted! -Well, well!' - -He turned towards the door. - -'Shall I leave the light on, or would you prefer it off?' - -'On please. I might fall asleep in the dark.' - -'Not you! And, if you did, you would dream that I was there, and -wake up. There are moments, young man, when you bring me pretty -near to quitting and taking to honest work.' - -He paused. - -'But not altogether. I have still a shot or two in my locker. We -shall see what we shall see. I am not dead yet. Wait!' - -'I will, and some day, when I am walking along Piccadilly, a -passing automobile will splash me with mud. A heavily furred -plutocrat will stare haughtily at me from the tonneau, and with a -start of surprise I shall recognize--' - -'Stranger things have happened. Be flip while you can, sonny. You -win so far, but this hoodoo of mine can't last for ever.' - -He passed from the room with a certain sad dignity. A moment later -he reappeared. - -'A thought strikes me,' he said. 'The fifty-fifty proposition does -not impress you. Would it make things easier if I were to offer my -cooperation for a mere quarter of the profit?' - -'Not in the least.' - -'It's a handsome offer.' - -'Wonderfully. I'm afraid I'm not dealing on any terms.' - -He left the room, only to return once more. His head appeared, -staring at me round the door, in a disembodied way, like the -Cheshire Cat. - -'You won't say later on I didn't give you your chance?' he said -anxiously. - -He vanished again, permanently this time. I heard his steps -passing down the stairs. - - -II - -We had now arrived at the last week of term, at the last days of -the last week. The holiday spirit was abroad in the school. Among -the boys it took the form of increased disorderliness. Boys who -had hitherto only made Glossop bellow now made him perspire and -tear his hair as well. Boys who had merely spilt ink now broke -windows. The Little Nugget abandoned cigarettes in favour of an -old clay pipe which he had found in the stables. - -As for me, I felt like a spent swimmer who sees the shore almost -within his reach. Audrey avoided me when she could, and was -frigidly polite when we met. But I suffered less now. A few more -days, and I should have done with this phase of my life for ever, -and Audrey would once more become a memory. - -Complete quiescence marked the deportment of Mr Fisher during -these days. He did not attempt to repeat his last effort. The -coffee came to the study unmixed with alien drugs. Sam, like -lightning, did not strike twice in the same place. He had the -artist's soul, and disliked patching up bungled work. If he made -another move, it would, I knew, be on entirely fresh lines. - -Ignoring the fact that I had had all the luck, I was inclined to -be self-satisfied when I thought of Sam. I had pitted my wits -against his, and I had won. It was a praiseworthy performance for -a man who had done hitherto nothing particular in his life. - -If all the copybook maxims which had been drilled into me in my -childhood and my early disaster with Audrey had not been -sufficient, I ought to have been warned by Sam's advice not to -take victory for granted till the fight was over. As Sam had said, -his luck would turn sooner or later. - -One realizes these truths in theory, but the practical application -of them seldom fails to come as a shock. I received mine on the -last morning but one of the term. - -Shortly after breakfast a message was brought to me that Mr Abney -would like to see me in his study. I went without any sense of -disaster to come. Most of the business of the school was discussed -in the study after breakfast, and I imagined that the matter had -to do with some detail of the morrow's exodus. - -I found Mr Abney pacing the room, a look of annoyance on his face. -At the desk, her back to me, Audrey was writing. It was part of -her work to take charge of the business correspondence of the -establishment. She did not look round when I came in, nor when Mr -Abney spoke my name, but went on writing as if I did not exist. - -There was a touch of embarrassment in Mr Abney's manner, for which -I could not at first account. He was stately, but with the rather -defensive stateliness which marked his announcements that he was -about to pop up to London and leave me to do his work. He coughed -once or twice before proceeding to the business of the moment. - -'Ah, Mr Burns,' he said at length, 'might I ask if your plans for -the holidays, the--ah--earlier part of the holidays are settled? -No? ah--excellent.' - -He produced a letter from the heap of papers on the desk. - -'Ah--excellent. That simplifies matters considerably. I have no -right to ask what I am about to--ah--in fact ask. I have no claim -on your time in the holidays. But, in the circumstances, perhaps -you may see your way to doing me a considerable service. I have -received a letter from Mr Elmer Ford which puts me in a position -of some difficulty. It is not my wish--indeed, it is foreign to my -policy--to disoblige the parents of the boys who are entrusted to -my--ah--care, and I should like, if possible, to do what Mr Ford -asks. It appears that certain business matters call him to the -north of England for a few days, this rendering it impossible for -him to receive little Ogden tomorrow. It is not my custom to -criticize parents who have paid me the compliment of placing their -sons at the most malleable and important period of their lives, in -my--ah--charge, but I must say that a little longer notice would -have been a--in fact, a convenience. But Mr Ford, like so many of -his countrymen, is what I believe is called a hustler. He does it -now, as the expression is. In short, he wishes to leave little -Ogden at the school for the first few days of the holidays, and I -should be extremely obliged, Mr Burns, if you should find it -possible to stay here and--ah--look after him.' - -Audrey stopped writing and turned in her chair, the first -intimation she had given that she had heard Mr Abney's remarks. - -'It really won't be necessary to trouble Mr Burns,' she said, -without looking at me. 'I can take care of Ogden very well by -myself.' - -'In the case of an--ah--ordinary boy, Mrs Sheridan, I should not -hesitate to leave you in sole charge as you have very kindly -offered to stay and help me in this matter. But we must recollect -not only--I speak frankly--not only the peculiar--ah--disposition -of this particular lad, but also the fact that those ruffians who -visited the house that night may possibly seize the opportunity to -make a fresh attack. I should not feel--ah--justified in -thrusting so heavy a responsibility upon you.' - -There was reason in what he said. Audrey made no reply. I heard -her pen tapping on the desk and deduced her feelings. I, myself, -felt like a prisoner who, having filed through the bars of his -cell, is removed to another on the eve of escape. I had so braced -myself up to endure till the end of term and no longer that this -postponement of the day of release had a crushing effect. - -Mr Abney coughed and lowered his voice confidentially. - -'I would stay myself, but the fact is, I am called to London on -very urgent business, and shall be unable to return for a day or -so. My late pupil, the--ah--the Earl of Buxton, has been--I can -rely on your discretion, Mr Burns--has been in trouble with the -authorities at Eton, and his guardian, an old college friend of -mine--the--in fact, the Duke of Bessborough, who, rightly or wrongly, -places--er--considerable reliance on my advice, is anxious to consult -me on the matter. I shall return as soon as possible, but you will -readily understand that, in the circumstances, my time will not be my -own. I must place myself unreservedly at--ah--Bessborough's disposal.' - -He pressed the bell. - -'In the event of your observing any suspicious characters in -the neighbourhood, you have the telephone and can instantly -communicate with the police. And you will have the assistance of--' - -The door opened and Smooth Sam Fisher entered. - -'You rang, sir?' - -'Ah! Come in, White, and close the door. I have something to say -to you. I have just been informing Mr Burns that Mr Ford has -written asking me to allow his son to stay on at the school for -the first few days of the vacation.' - -He turned to Audrey. - -'You will doubtless be surprised, Mrs Sheridan, and possibly--ah-- -somewhat startled, to learn the peculiar nature of White's position -at Sanstead House. You have no objection to my informing Mrs Sheridan, -White, in consideration of the fact that you will be working together -in this matter? Just so. White is a detective in the employment of -Pinkerton's Agency. Mr Ford'--a slight frown appeared on his lofty -brow--'Mr Ford obtained his present situation for him in order that -he might protect his son in the event of--ah--in fact, any attempt -to remove him.' - -I saw Audrey start. A quick flush came into her face. She uttered -a little exclamation of astonishment. - -'Just so,' said Mr Abney, by way of comment on this. 'You are -naturally surprised. The whole arrangement is excessively unusual, -and, I may say--ah--disturbing. However, you have your duty to -fulfil to your employer, White, and you will, of course, remain -here with the boy.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -I found myself looking into a bright brown eye that gleamed with -genial triumph. The other was closed. In the exuberance of the -moment, Smooth Sam had had the bad taste to wink at me. - -'You will have Mr Burns to help you, White. He has kindly -consented to postpone his departure during the short period in -which I shall be compelled to be absent.' - -I had no recollection of having given any kind consent, but I was -very willing to have it assumed, and I was glad to see that Mr -Fisher, though Mr Abney did not observe it, was visibly taken -aback by this piece of information. But he made one of his swift -recoveries. - -'It is very kind of Mr Burns,' he said in his fruitiest voice, -'but I hardly think it will be necessary to put him to the -inconvenience of altering his plans. I am sure that Mr Ford would -prefer the entire charge of the affair to be in my hands.' - -He had not chosen a happy moment for the introduction of the -millionaire's name. Mr Abney was a man of method, who hated any -dislocation of the fixed routine of life; and Mr Ford's letter had -upset him. The Ford family, father and son, were just then -extremely unpopular with him. - -He crushed Sam. - -'What Mr Ford would or would not prefer is, in this particular -matter, beside the point. The responsibility for the boy, while he -remains on the school premises, is--ah--mine, and I shall take -such precautions as seem fit and adequate to--him--myself, -irrespective of those which, in your opinion, might suggest -themselves to Mr Ford. As I cannot be here myself, owing -to--ah--urgent business in London, I shall certainly take -advantage of Mr Burns's kind offer to remain as my deputy.' - -He paused and blew his nose, his invariable custom after these -occasional outbursts of his. Sam had not wilted beneath the storm. -He waited, unmoved, till all was over: - -'I am afraid I shall have to be more explicit,' he said: 'I had -hoped to avoid scandal and unpleasantness, but I see it is -impossible.' - -Mr Abney's astonished face emerged slowly from behind his -handkerchief. - -'I quite agree with you, sir, that somebody should be here to help -me look after the boy, but not Mr Burns. I am sorry to have to say -it, but I do not trust Mr Burns.' - -Mr Abney's look of astonishment deepened. I, too, was surprised. -It was so unlike Sam to fling away his chances on a blundering -attack like this. - -'What do you mean?' demanded Mr Abney. - -'Mr Burns is after the boy himself. He came to kidnap him.' - -Mr Abney, as he had every excuse for doing, grunted with -amazement. I achieved the ringing laugh of amused innocence. It -was beyond me to fathom Sam's mind. He could not suppose that any -credence would be given to his wild assertion. It seemed to me -that disappointment had caused him momentarily to lose his head. - -'Are you mad, White?' - -'No, sir. I can prove what I say. If I had not gone to London with -him that last time, he'd have got away with the boy then, for -certain.' - -For an instant an uneasy thought came to me that he might have -something in reserve, something unknown to me, which had -encouraged him to this direct attack. I dismissed the notion. -There could be nothing. - -Mr Abney had turned to me with a look of hopeless bewilderment. I -raised my eyebrows. - -'Ridiculous,' I said. - -That this was the only comment seemed to be Mr Abney's view. He -turned on Sam with the pettish anger of the mild man. - -'What do you _mean_, White, by coming to me with such a -preposterous story?' - -'I don't say Mr Burns wished to kidnap the boy in the ordinary -way,' said Sam imperturbably, 'like those men who came that night. -He had a special reason. Mr and Mrs Ford, as of course you know, -sir, are divorced. Mr Burns was trying to get the boy away and -take him back to his mother.' - -I heard Audrey give a little gasp. Mr Abney's anger became -modified by a touch of doubt. I could see that these words, by -lifting the accusation from the wholly absurd to the somewhat -plausible, had impressed him. Once again I was gripped by the -uneasy feeling that Sam had an unsuspected card to play. This -might be bluff, but it had a sinister ring. - -'You might say,' went on Sam smoothly, 'that this was creditable -to Mr Burns's heart. But, from my employer's viewpoint and yours, -too, it was a chivalrous impulse that needed to be checked. Will -you please read this, sir?' - -He handed a letter to Mr Abney, who adjusted his glasses and began -to read--at first in a detached, judicial way, then with startled -eagerness. - -'I felt it necessary to search among Mr Burns's papers, sir, in -the hope of finding--' - -And then I knew what he had found. From the first the blue-grey -notepaper had had a familiar look. I recognized it now. It was -Cynthia's letter, that damning document which I had been mad -enough to read to him in London. His prediction that the luck -would change had come amazingly true. - -I caught Sam's eye. For the second time he was unfeeling enough to -wink. It was a rich, comprehensive wink, as expressive and joyous -as a college yell. - -Mr Abney had absorbed the letter and was struggling for speech. I -could appreciate his emotion. If he had not actually been -nurturing a viper in his bosom, he had come, from his point of -view, very near it. Of all men, a schoolmaster necessarily looks -with the heartiest dislike on the would-be kidnapper. - -As for me, my mind was in a whirl. I was entirely without a plan, -without the very beginnings of a plan, to help me cope with this -appalling situation. I was crushed by a sense of the utter -helplessness of my position. To denounce Sam was impossible; to -explain my comparative innocence was equally out of the question. -The suddenness of the onslaught had deprived me of the power of -coherent thought. I was routed. - -Mr Abney was speaking. - -'Is your name Peter, Mr Burns?' - -I nodded. Speech was beyond me. - -'This letter is written by--ah--by a lady. It asks you in set -terms to--ah--hasten to kidnap Ogden Ford. Do you wish me to read -it to you? Or do you confess to knowing its contents?' - -He waited for a reply. I had none to make. - -'You do not deny that you came to Sanstead House for the -deliberate purpose of kidnapping Ogden Ford?' - -I had nothing to say. I caught a glimpse of Audrey's face, cold -and hard, and shifted my eyes quickly. Mr Abney gulped. His face -wore the reproachful expression of a cod-fish when jerked out of -the water on the end of a line. He stared at me with pained -repulsion. That scoundrelly old buccaneer Sam did the same. He -looked like a shocked bishop. - -'I--ah--trusted you implicitly,' said Mr Abney. - -Sam wagged his head at me reproachfully. With a flicker of spirit -I glared at him. He only wagged the more. - -It was, I think, the blackest moment of my life. A wild desire for -escape on any terms surged over me. That look on Audrey's face was -biting into my brain like an acid. - -'I will go and pack,' I said. - -'This is the end of all things,' I said to myself. - -I had suspended my packing in order to sit on my bed and brood. I -was utterly depressed. There are crises in a man's life when -Reason fails to bring the slightest consolation. In vain I tried -to tell myself that what had happened was, in essence, precisely -what, twenty-four hours ago, I was so eager to bring about. It -amounted to this, that now, at last, Audrey had definitely gone -out of my life. From now on I could have no relations with her of -any sort. Was not this exactly what, twenty-four hours ago, I had -wished? Twenty-four hours ago had I not said to myself that I -would go away and never see her again? Undoubtedly. Nevertheless, -I sat there and groaned in spirit. - -It was the end of all things. - -A mild voice interrupted my meditations. - -'Can I help?' - -Sam was standing in the doorway, beaming on me with invincible -good-humour. - -'You are handling them wrong. Allow me. A moment more and you -would have ruined the crease.' - -I became aware of a pair of trousers hanging limply in my grasp. -He took them from me, and, folding them neatly, placed them in my -trunk. - -'Don't get all worked up about it, sonny,' he said. 'It's the -fortune of war. Besides, what does it matter to you? Judging by -that very snug apartment in London, you have quite enough money -for a young man. Losing your job here won't break you. And, if -you're worrying about Mrs Ford and her feelings, don't! I guess -she's probably forgotten all about the Nugget by this time. So -cheer up. _You're_ all right!' - -He stretched out a hand to pat me on the shoulder, then thought -better of it and drew it back. - -'Think of _my_ happiness, if you want something to make you -feel good. Believe me, young man, it's _some_. I could sing! -Gee, when I think that it's all plain sailing now and no more -troubles, I could dance! You don't know what it means to me, -putting through this deal. I wish you knew Mary! That's her name. -You must come and visit us, sonny, when we're fixed up in the -home. There'll always be a knife and fork for _you_. We'll -make you one of the family! Lord! I can see the place as plain as -I can see you. Nice frame house with a good porch.... Me in a -rocker in my shirt-sleeves, smoking a cigar and reading the -baseball news; Mary in another rocker, mending my socks and -nursing the cat! We'll sure have a cat. Two cats. I like cats. And -a goat in the front garden. Say, it'll be _great!_' - -And on the word, emotion overcoming prudence, he brought his fat -hand down with a resounding smack on my bowed shoulders. - -There is a limit. I bounded to my feet. - -'Get out!' I yelped. 'Get out of here!' - -'Sure,' he replied agreeably. He rose without haste and regarded -me compassionately. 'Cheer up, son! Be a sport!' - -There are moments when the best of men become melodramatic. I -offer this as excuse for my next observation. - -Clenching my fists and glaring at him, I cried, 'I'll foil you -yet, you hound!' - -Some people have no soul for the dramatic. He smiled tolerantly. - -'Sure,' he said. 'Anything you like, Desperate Desmond. Enjoy -yourself!' - -And he left me. - - - - -Chapter 13 - - -I evacuated Sanstead House unostentatiously, setting off on foot -down the long drive. My luggage, I gathered, was to follow me to -the station in a cart. I was thankful to Providence for the small -mercy that the boys were in their classrooms and consequently -unable to ask me questions. Augustus Beckford alone would have -handled the subject of my premature exit in a manner calculated to -bleach my hair. - -It was a wonderful morning. The sky was an unclouded blue, and a -fresh breeze was blowing in from the sea. I think that something -of the exhilaration of approaching spring must have stirred me, -for quite suddenly the dull depression with which I had started my -walk left me, and I found myself alert and full of schemes. - -Why should I feebly withdraw from the struggle? Why should I give -in to Smooth Sam in this tame way? The memory of that wink came -back to me with a tonic effect. I would show him that I was still -a factor in the game. If the house was closed to me, was there not -the 'Feathers'? I could lie in hiding there, and observe his -movements unseen. - -I stopped on reaching the inn, and was on the point of entering -and taking up my position at once, when it occurred to me that -this would be a false move. It was possible that Sam would not -take my departure for granted so readily as I assumed. It was -Sam's way to do a thing thoroughly, and the probability was that, -if he did not actually come to see me off, he would at least make -inquiries at the station to find out if I had gone. I walked on. - -He was not at the station. Nor did he arrive in the cart with my -trunk. But I was resolved to risk nothing. I bought a ticket for -London, and boarded the London train. It had been my intention to -leave it at Guildford and catch an afternoon train back to -Stanstead; but it seemed to me, on reflection, that this was -unnecessary. There was no likelihood of Sam making any move in the -matter of the Nugget until the following day. I could take my time -about returning. - -I spent the night in London, and arrived at Sanstead by an early -morning train with a suit-case containing, among other things, a -Browning pistol. I was a little ashamed of this purchase. To the -Buck MacGinnis type of man, I suppose, a pistol is as commonplace -a possession as a pair of shoes, but I blushed as I entered the -gun-shop. If it had been Buck with whom I was about to deal, I -should have felt less self-conscious. But there was something -about Sam which made pistols ridiculous. - -My first act, after engaging a room at the inn and leaving my -suit-case, was to walk to the school. Before doing anything else, -I felt I must see Audrey and tell her the facts in the case of -Smooth Sam. If she were on her guard, my assistance might not be -needed. But her present state of trust in him was fatal. - -A school, when the boys are away, is a lonely place. The deserted -air of the grounds, as I slipped cautiously through the trees, was -almost eerie. A stillness brooded over everything, as if the place -had been laid under a spell. Never before had I been so impressed -with the isolation of Sanstead House. Anything might happen in -this lonely spot, and the world would go on its way in ignorance. -It was with quite distinct relief that, as I drew nearer the -house, I caught sight of the wire of the telephone among the trees -above my head. It had a practical, comforting look. - -A tradesman's cart rattled up the drive and disappeared round the -side of the house. This reminder, also, of the outside world was -pleasant. But I could not rid myself of the feeling that the -atmosphere of the place was sinister. I attributed it to the fact -that I was a spy in an enemy's country. I had to see without being -seen. I did not imagine that Johnson, grocer, who had just passed -in his cart, found anything wrong with the atmosphere. It was -created for me by my own furtive attitude. - -Of Audrey and Ogden there were no signs. That they were out -somewhere in the grounds this mellow spring morning I took for -granted; but I could not make an extended search. Already I had -come nearer to the house than was prudent. - -My eye caught the telephone wire again and an idea came to me. I -would call her up from the inn and ask her to meet me. There was -the risk that the call would be answered by Smooth Sam, but it was -not great. Sam, unless he had thrown off his role of butler -completely--which would be unlike the artist that he was--would be -in the housekeeper's room, and the ringing of the telephone, which -was in the study, would not penetrate to him. - -I chose a moment when dinner was likely to be over and Audrey -might be expected to be in the drawing-room. - -I had deduced her movements correctly. It was her voice that -answered the call. - -'This is Peter Burns speaking.' - -There was a perceptible pause before she replied. When she did, -her voice was cold. - -'Yes?' - -'I want to speak to you on a matter of urgent importance.' - -'Well?' - -'I can't do it through the telephone. Will you meet me in half an -hour's time at the gate?' - -'Where are you speaking from?' - -'The "Feathers". I am staying there.' - -'I thought you were in London.' - -'I came back. Will you meet me?' - -She hesitated. - -'Why?' - -'Because I have something important to say to you--important to -you.' - -There was another pause. - -'Very well.' - -'In half an hour, then. Is Ogden Ford in bed?' - -'Yes.' - -'Is his door locked?' - -'No.' - -'Then lock it and bring the key with you.' - -'Why?' - -'I will tell you when we meet.' - -'I will bring it.' - -'Thank you. Good-bye.' - -I hung up the receiver and set out at once for the school. - -She was waiting in the road, a small, indistinct figure in the -darkness. - -'Is that you--Peter?' - -Her voice had hesitated at the name, as if at some obstacle. It -was a trivial thing, but, in my present mood, it stung me. - -'I'm afraid I'm late. I won't keep you long. Shall we walk down -the road? You may not have been followed, but it is as well to be -on the safe side.' - -'Followed? I don't understand.' - -We walked a few paces and halted. - -'Who would follow me?' - -'A very eminent person of the name of Smooth Sam Fisher.' - -'Smooth Sam Fisher?' - -'Better known to you as White.' - -'I don't understand.' - -'I should be surprised if you did. I asked you to meet me here so -that I could make you understand. The man who poses as a -Pinkerton's detective, and is staying in the house to help you -take care of Ogden Ford, is Smooth Sam Fisher, a professional -kidnapper.' - -'But--but--' - -'But what proof have I? Was that what you were going to say? None. -But I had the information from the man himself. He told me in the -train that night going to London.' - -She spoke quickly. I knew from her tone that she thought she had -detected a flaw in my story. - -'Why did he tell you?' - -'Because he needed me as an accomplice. He wanted my help. It was -I who got Ogden away that day. Sam overheard me giving money and -directions to him, telling him how to get away from the school and -where to go, and he gathered--correctly--that I was in the same -line of business as himself. He suggested a partnership which I -was unable to accept.' - -'Why?' - -'Our objects were different. My motive in kidnapping Ogden was not -to extract a ransom.' - -She blazed out at me in an absolutely unexpected manner. Till now -she had listened so calmly and asked her questions with such a -notable absence of emotion that the outburst overwhelmed me. - -'Oh, I know what your motive was. There is no need to explain -that. Isn't there any depth to which a man who thinks himself in -love won't stoop? I suppose you told yourself you were doing -something noble and chivalrous? A woman of her sort can trick a -man into whatever meanness she pleases, and, just because she asks -him, he thinks himself a kind of knight-errant. I suppose she -told you that he had ill-treated her and didn't appreciate her -higher self, and all that sort of thing? She looked at you with -those big brown eyes of hers--I can see her--and drooped, and -cried, till you were ready to do anything she asked you.' - -'Whom do you mean?' - -'Mrs Ford, of course. The woman who sent you here to steal Ogden. -The woman who wrote you that letter.' - -'She did not write that letter. But never mind that. The reason -why I wanted you to come here was to warn you against Sam Fisher. -That was all. If there is any way in which I can help you, send -for me. If you like, I will come and stay at the house till Mr -Abney returns.' - -Before the words were out of my mouth, I saw that I had made a -mistake. The balance of her mind was poised between suspicion and -belief, and my offer turned the scale. - -'No, thank you,' she said curtly. - -'You don't trust me?' - -'Why should I? White may or may not be Sam Fisher. I shall be on -my guard, and I thank you for telling me. But why should I trust -you? It all hangs together. You told me you were engaged to be -married. You come here on an errand which no man would undertake -except for a woman, and a woman with whom he was very much in -love. There is that letter, imploring you to steal the boy. I know -what a man will do for a woman he is fond of. Why should I trust -you?' - -'There is this. You forget that I had the opportunity to steal -Ogden if I had wanted to. I had got him away to London. But I -brought him back. I did it because you had told me what it meant -to you.' - -She hesitated, but only for an instant. Suspicion was too strong -for her. - -'I don't believe you. You brought him back because this man whom -you call Fisher got to know of your plans. Why should you have -done it because of me? Why should you have put my interests before -Mrs Ford's? I am nothing to you.' - -For a moment a mad impulse seized me to cast away all restraint, -to pour out the unspoken words that danced like imps in my brain, -to make her understand, whatever the cost, my feelings towards -her. But the thought of my letter to Cynthia checked me. That -letter had been the irrevocable step. If I was to preserve a shred -of self-respect I must be silent. - -'Very well,' I said, 'good night.' And I turned to go. - -'Peter!' - -There was something in her voice which whirled me round, -thrilling, despite my resolution. - -'Are you going?' - -Weakness would now be my undoing. I steadied myself and answered -abruptly. - -'I have said all I came to say. Good night.' - -I turned once more and walked quickly off towards the village. I -came near to running. I was in the mood when flight alone can save -a man. She did not speak again, and soon I was out of danger, -hurrying on through the friendly darkness, beyond the reach of her -voice. - -The bright light from the doorway of the 'Feathers', was the only -illumination that relieved the blackness of the Market Square. As -I approached, a man came out and stopped in the entrance to light -a cigar. His back was turned towards me as he crouched to protect -the match from the breeze, but something in his appearance seemed -familiar. - -I had only a glimpse of him as he straightened himself and walked -out of the pool of light into the Square, but it was enough. - -It was my much-enduring acquaintance, Mr Buck MacGinnis. - - - - -Chapter 14 - - -I - -At the receipt of custom behind the bar sat Miss Benjafield, -stately as ever, relaxing her massive mind over a penny novelette. - -'Who was the man who just left, Miss Benjafield?' I asked. - -She marked the place with a shapely thumb and looked up. - -'The man? Oh, _him_! He's--why, weren't you in here, Mr Burns, -one evening in January when--' - -'That American?' - -'That's him. What he's doing here I don't know. He disappeared -quite a while back, and I haven't seen him since. _Nor_ want. -Tonight up he turns again like a bad ha'penny. I'd like to know -what he's after. No good, if you ask _me_.' - -Miss Benjafield's prejudices did not easily dissolve. She prided -herself, as she frequently observed, on knowing her own mind. - -'Is he staying here?' - -'Not at the "Feathers". We're particular who we have here.' - -I thanked her for the implied compliment, ordered beer for the -good of the house, and, lighting a pipe, sat down to meditate on -this new development. - -The vultures were gathered together with a vengeance. Sam within, -Buck without, it was quite like old times, with the difference -that now, I, too, was on the wrong side of the school door. - -It was not hard to account for Buck's reappearance. He would, of -course, have made it his business to get early information of Mr -Ford's movements. It would be easy for him to discover that the -millionaire had been called away to the north and that the Nugget -was still an inmate of Sanstead House. And here he was preparing -for the grand attack. - -I had been premature in removing Buck's name from the list of -active combatants. Broken legs mend. I ought to have remembered -that. - -His presence on the scene made, I perceived, a vast difference to -my plan of campaign. It was at this point that my purchase of the -Browning pistol lost its absurdity and appeared in the light of an -acute strategic move. With Sam the only menace, I had been -prepared to play a purely waiting game, watching proceedings from -afar, ready to give my help if necessary. To check Buck, more -strenuous methods were called for. - -My mind was made up. With Buck, that stout disciple of the frontal -attack, in the field, there was only one place for me. I must get -into Sanstead House and stay there on guard. - -Did he intend to make an offensive movement tonight? That was the -question which occupied my mind. From the point of view of an -opponent, there was this merit about Mr MacGinnis, that he was -not subtle. He could be counted on with fair certainty to do -the direct thing. Sooner or later he would make another of his -vigorous frontal attacks upon the stronghold. The only point to be -decided was whether he would make it that night. Would professional -zeal cause him to omit his beauty sleep? - -I did not relish the idea of spending the night patrolling the -grounds, but it was imperative that the house be protected. Then -it occurred to me that the man for the vigil was Smooth Sam. If -the arrival of Mr MacGinnis had complicated matters in one way, it -had simplified them in another, for there was no more need for the -secrecy which had been, till now, the basis of my plan of action. -Buck's arrival made it possible for me to come out and fight in -the open, instead of brooding over Sanstead House from afar like a -Providence. Tomorrow I proposed to turn Sam out. Tonight I would use -him. The thing had resolved itself into a triangular tournament, -and Sam and Buck should play the first game. - -Once more I called up the house on the telephone. There was a long -delay before a reply came. It was Mr Fisher's voice that spoke. -Audrey, apparently, had not returned to the house immediately -after leaving me. - -'Hullo!' said Sam. - -'Good evening, Mr Fisher.' - -'Gee! Is that you, young fellow-me-lad? Are you speaking from -London?' - -'No. I am at the "Feathers".' - -He chuckled richly. - -'Can't tear yourself away? Hat still in the ring? Say, what's the -use? Why not turn it up, sonny? You're only wasting your time.' - -'Do you sleep lightly, Mr Fisher?' - -'I don't get you.' - -'You had better do so tonight. Buck MacGinnis is back again.' - -There was silence at the other end of the wire. Then I heard him -swear softly. The significance of the information had not been -lost on Mr Fisher. - -'Is that straight?' - -'It is.' - -'You're not stringing me?' - -'Certainly not.' - -'You're sure it was Buck?' - -'Is Buck's the sort of face one forgets?' - -He swore again. - -'You seem disturbed,' I said. - -'Where did you see him?' asked Sam. - -'Coming out of the "Feathers", looking very fierce and determined. -The Berserk blood of the MacGinnises is up. He's going to do or -die. I'm afraid this means an all-night sitting for you, Mr -Fisher.' - -'I thought you had put him out of business!' - -There was a somewhat querulous note in his voice. - -'Only temporarily. I did my best, but he wasn't even limping when -I saw him.' - -He did not speak for a moment. I gathered that he was pondering -over the new development. - -'Thanks for tipping me off, sonny. It's a thing worth knowing. Why -did you do it?' - -'Because I love you, Samuel. Good night.' - -I rose late and breakfasted at my leisure. The peace of the -English country inn enveloped me as I tilted back my chair and -smoked the first pipe of the morning. It was a day to hearten a -man for great deeds, one of those days of premature summer which -comes sometimes to help us bear the chill winds of early spring. -The sun streamed in through the open window. In the yard below -fowls made their soothing music. The thought of violence seemed -very alien to such a morning. - -I strolled out into the Square. I was in no hurry to end this -interlude of peace and embark on what, for all practical purposes, -would be a siege. - -After lunch, I decided, would be time enough to begin active -campaigning. - -The clock on the church tower was striking two as I set forth, -carrying my suit-case, on my way to the school. The light-heartedness -of the morning still lingered with me. I was amused at the thought -of the surprise I was about to give Mr Fisher. That wink still -rankled. - -As I made my way through the grounds I saw Audrey in the distance, -walking with the Nugget. I avoided them and went on into the -house. - -About the house there was the same air of enchanted quiet which -pervaded the grounds. Perhaps the stillness indoors was even more -insistent. I had grown so accustomed to the never-ending noise and -bustle of the boys' quarters that, as I crossed the silent hall, I -had an almost guilty sense of intrusion. I felt like a burglar. - -Sam, the object of my visit, would, I imagined, if he were in the -house at all, be in the housekeeper's room, a cosy little apartment -off the passage leading to the kitchen. I decided to draw that -first, and was rewarded, on pushing open the half-closed door, by -the sight of a pair of black-trousered legs stretched out before me -from the depths of a wicker-work armchair. His portly middle -section, rising beyond like a small hill, heaved rhythmically. His -face was covered with a silk handkerchief, from beneath which came, -in even succession, faint and comfortable snores. It was a peaceful -picture--the good man taking his rest; and for me it had an added -attractiveness in that it suggested that Sam was doing by day what -my information had prevented him from doing in the night. It had -been some small consolation to me, as I lay trying to compose my -anxious mind for sleep on the previous night, that Mr Fisher also -was keeping his vigil. - -Pleasing as Sam was as a study in still life, pressure of business -compelled me to stir him into activity. I prodded him gently in -the centre of the rising territory beyond the black trousers. He -grunted discontentedly and sat up. The handkerchief fell from his -face, and he blinked at me, first with the dazed glassiness of the -newly awakened, then with a 'Soul's Awakening' expression, which -spread over his face until it melted into a friendly smile. - -'Hello, young man!' - -'Good afternoon. You seem tired.' - -He yawned cavernously. - -'Lord! What a night!' - -'Did Buck drop in?' - -'No, but I thought he had every time I heard a board creak. I -didn't dare close my eyes for a minute. Have you ever stayed awake -all night, waiting for the goblins that get you if you don't watch -out? Well, take it from me it's no picnic.' - -His face split in another mammoth yawn. He threw his heart into -it, as if life held no other tasks for him. Only in alligators -have I ever seen its equal. - -I waited till the seismic upheaval had spent itself. Then I came -to business. - -'I'm sorry you had a disturbed night, Mr Fisher. You must make up -for it this afternoon. You will find the beds very comfortable.' - -'How's that?' - -'At the "Feathers". I should go there, if I were you. The charges -are quite reasonable, and the food is good. You will like the -"Feathers".' - -'I don't get you, sonny.' - -'I was trying to break it gently to you that you are about to move -from this house. Now. At once. Take your last glimpse of the old -home, Sam, and out into the hard world.' - -He looked at me inquiringly. - -'You seem to be talking, young man; words appear to be fluttering -from you; but your meaning, if any, escapes me.' - -'My meaning is that I am about to turn you out. I am coming back -here, and there is not room for both of us. So, if you do not see -your way to going quietly, I shall take you by the back of the -neck and run you out. Do I make myself fairly clear now?' - -He permitted himself a rich chuckle. - -'You have gall, young man. Well, I hate to seem unfriendly. I like -you, sonny. You amuse me--but there are moments when one wants to -be alone. I have a whole heap of arrears of sleep to make up. Trot -along, kiddo, and quit disturbing uncle. Tie a string to yourself -and disappear. Bye-bye.' - -The wicker-work creaked as he settled his stout body. He picked up -the handkerchief. - -'Mr Fisher,' I said, 'I have no wish to propel your grey hairs at -a rapid run down the drive, so I will explain further. I am -physically stronger than you. I mean to turn you out. How can you -prevent it? Mr Abney is away. You can't appeal to him. The police -are at the end of the telephone, but you can't appeal to them. So -what _can_ you do, except go? Do you get me now?' - -He regarded the situation in thoughtful silence. He allowed no -emotion to find expression in his face, but I knew that the -significance of my remarks had sunk in. I could almost follow his -mind as he tested my position point by point and found it -impregnable. - -When he spoke it was to accept defeat jauntily. - -'You _are_ my jinx, young man. I said it all along. You're -really set on my going? Say no more. I'll go. After all, it's -quiet at the inn, and what more does a man want at my time of -life?' - -I went out into the garden to interview Audrey. - -She was walking up and down on the tennis-lawn. The Nugget, -lounging in a deck-chair, appeared to be asleep. - -She caught sight of me as I came out from the belt of trees, and -stopped. I had the trying experience of walking across open -country under hostile observation. - -The routing of Sam had left me alert and self-confident. I felt no -embarrassment. I greeted her briskly. - -'Good afternoon. I have been talking to Sam Fisher. If you wait, -you will see him passing away down the drive. He is leaving the -house. I am coming back.' - -'Coming back?' - -She spoke incredulously, or, rather, as if my words had conveyed -no meaning. It was so that Sam had spoken. Her mind, like his, -took time to adjust itself to the unexpected. - -She seemed to awake to my meaning with a start. - -'Coming back?' Her eyes widened. The flush deepened on her cheeks. -'But I told you--' - -'I know what you told me. You said you did not trust me. It -doesn't matter. I am coming back whether you trust me or not. This -house is under martial law, and I am in command. The situation has -changed since I spoke to you last night. Last night I was ready to -let you have your way. I intended to keep an eye on things from -the inn. But it's different now. It is not a case of Sam Fisher -any longer. You could have managed Sam. It's Buck MacGinnis now, -the man who came that night in the automobile. I saw him in the -village after I left you. He's dangerous.' - -She looked away, past me, in the direction of the drive. I -followed her gaze. A stout figure, carrying a suit-case, was -moving slowly down it. - -I smiled. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the anger that had been -lying at the back of them flash out. Her chin went up with the old -defiant tilt. I was sorry I had smiled. It was my old fault, the -complacency that would not be hidden. - -'I don't believe you!' she cried. 'I don't trust you!' - -It is curious how one's motive for embarking on a course of -conduct changes or disappears altogether as the action develops. -Once started on an enterprise it is as if one proceeded with it -automatically, irrespective of one's original motives. I had begun -what I might call the second phase of this matter of the Little -Nugget, the abandoning of Cynthia's cause in favour of Audrey's, -with a clear idea of why I was doing it. I had set myself to -resist the various forces which were trying to take Ogden from -Audrey, for one simple reason, because I loved Audrey and wished -to help her. That motive, if it still existed at all, did so only -in the form of abstract chivalry. My personal feelings towards her -seemed to have undergone a complete change, dating from our -parting in the road the night before. I found myself now meeting -hostility with hostility. I looked at her critically and told -myself that her spell was broken at last, that, if she disliked -me, I was at least indifferent to her. - -And yet, despite my altered feelings, my determination to help her -never wavered. The guarding of Ogden might be--primarily--no -business of mine, but I had adopted it as my business. - -'I don't ask you to trust me,' I said. 'We have settled all that. -There's no need to go over old ground. Think what you please about -this. I've made up my mind.' - -'If you mean to stay, I suppose I can't prevent you.' - -'Exactly.' - -Sam appeared again in a gap in the trees, walking slowly and -pensively, as one retreating from his Moscow. Her eyes followed -him till he was out of sight. - -'If you like,' I said bitterly, 'you may put what I am doing down -to professional rivalry. If I am in love with Mrs Ford and am here -to steal Ogden for her, it is natural for me to do all I can to -prevent Buck MacGinnis getting him. There is no need for you to -look on me as an ally because we are working together.' - -'We are not working together.' - -'We shall be in a very short time. Buck will not let another night -go by without doing something.' - -'I don't believe that you saw him.' - -'Just as you please,' I said, and walked away. What did it matter -to me what she believed? - -The day dragged on. Towards evening the weather broke suddenly, -after the fashion of spring in England. Showers of rain drove me -to the study. - -It must have been nearly ten o'clock when the telephone rang. - -It was Mr Fisher. - -'Hello, is that you, sonny?' - -'It is. Do you want anything?' - -'I want a talk with you. Business. Can I come up?' - -'If you wish it.' - -'I'll start right away.' - -It was some fifteen minutes later that I heard in the distance the -engines of an automobile. The headlights gleamed through the -trees, and presently the car swept round the bend of the drive and -drew up at the front door. A portly figure got down and rang the -bell. I observed these things from a window on the first floor, -overlooking the front steps; and it was from this window that I -spoke. - -'Is that you, Mr Fisher?' - -He backed away from the door. - -'Where are you?' - -'Is that your car?' - -'It belongs to a friend of mine.' - -'I didn't know you meant to bring a party.' - -'There's only three of us. Me, the chauffeur, and my friend--MacGinnis.' - -The possibility, indeed the probability, of Sam seeking out Buck -and forming an alliance had occurred to me, and I was prepared for -it. I shifted my grip on the automatic pistol in my hand. - -'Mr Fisher.' - -'Hello!' - -'Ask your friend MacGinnis to be good enough to step into the -light of that lamp and drop his gun.' - -There was a muttered conversation. I heard Buck's voice rumbling -like a train going under a bridge. The request did not appear to -find favour with him. Then came an interlude of soothing speech -from Mr Fisher. I could not distinguish the words, but I gathered -that he was pointing out to him that, on this occasion only, the -visit being for the purposes of parley and not of attack, pistols -might be looked on as non-essentials. Whatever his arguments, they -were successful, for, finally, humped as to the back and -muttering, Buck moved into the light. - -'Good evening, Mr MacGinnis,' I said. 'I'm glad to see your leg is -all right again. I won't detain you a moment. Just feel in your -pockets and shed a few of your guns, and then you can come in out -of the rain. To prevent any misunderstanding, I may say I have a -gun of my own. It is trained on you now.' - -'I ain't got no gun.' - -'Come along. This is no time for airy persiflage. Out with them.' - -A moment's hesitation, and a small black pistol fell to the -ground. - -'No more?' - -'Think I'm a regiment?' - -'I don't know what you are. Well, I'll take your word for it. You -will come in one by one, with your hands up.' - -I went down and opened the door, holding my pistol in readiness -against the unexpected. - - -II - -Sam came first. His raised hands gave him a vaguely pontifical air -(Bishop Blessing Pilgrims), and the kindly smile he wore -heightened the illusion. Mr MacGinnis, who followed, suggested no -such idea. He was muttering moodily to himself, and he eyed me -askance. - -I showed them into the classroom and switched on the light. The -air was full of many odours. Disuse seems to bring out the -inky-chalky, appley-deal-boardy bouquet of a classroom as the -night brings out the scent of flowers. During the term I had never -known this classroom smell so exactly like a classroom. I made use -of my free hand to secure and light a cigarette. - -Sam rose to a point of order. - -'Young man,' he said. I should like to remind you that we are -here, as it were, under a flag of truce. To pull a gun on us and -keep us holding our hands up this way is raw work. I feel sure I -speak for my friend Mr MacGinnis.' - -He cocked an eye at his friend Mr MacGinnis, who seconded the -motion by expectorating into the fireplace. I had observed at a -previous interview his peculiar gift for laying bare his soul by -this means of mode of expression. A man of silent habit, judged by -the more conventional standard of words, he was almost an orator -in expectoration. - -'Mr MacGinnis agrees with me,' said Sam cheerfully. 'Do we take -them down? Have we your permission to assume Position Two of these -Swedish exercises? All we came for was a little friendly chat -among gentlemen, and we can talk just as well--speaking for -myself, better--in a less strained attitude. A little rest, Mr -Burns! A little folding of the hands? Thank you.' - -He did not wait for permission, nor was it necessary. Sam and the -melodramatic atmosphere was as oil and water. It was impossible to -blend them. I laid the pistol on the table and sat down. Buck, -after one wistful glance at the weapon, did the same. Sam was -already seated, and was looking so cosy and at home that I almost -felt it remiss of me not to have provided sherry and cake for this -pleasant gathering. - -'Well,' I said, 'what can I do for you?' - -'Let me explain,' said Sam. 'As you have, no doubt, gathered, Mr -MacGinnis and I have gone into partnership. The Little Nugget -Combine!' - -'I gathered that--well?' - -'Judicious partnerships are the soul of business. Mr MacGinnis and -I have been rivals in the past, but we both saw that the moment -had come for the genial smile, the hearty handshake, in fact, for -an alliance. We form a strong team, sonny. My partner's speciality -is action. I supply the strategy. Say, can't you see you're up -against it? Why be foolish?' - -'You think you're certain to win?' - -'It's a cinch.' - -'Then why trouble to come here and see me?' - -I appeared to have put into words the smouldering thought which -was vexing Mr MacGinnis. He burst into speech. - -'Ahr chee! Sure! What's de use? Didn't I tell youse? What's de use -of wastin' time? What are we spielin' away here for? Let's get -busy.' - -Sam waved a hand towards him with the air of a lecturer making a -point. - -'You see! The man of action! He likes trouble. He asks for it. He -eats it alive. Now I prefer peace. Why have a fuss when you can -get what you want quietly? That's my motto. That's why we've come. -It's the old proposition. We're here to buy you out. Yes, I know -you have turned the offer down before, but things have changed. -Your stock has fallen. In fact, instead of letting you in on -sharing terms, we only feel justified now in offering a commission. -For the moment you may seem to hold a strong position. You are in -the house, and you've got the boy. But there's nothing to it really. -We could get him in five minutes if we cared to risk having a fuss. -But it seems to me there's no need of any fuss. We should win dead -easy all right, if it came to trouble; but, on the other hand, -you've a gun, and there's a chance some of us might get hurt, so -what's the good when we can settle it quietly? How about it, sonny?' - -Mr MacGinnis began to rumble, preparatory to making further -remarks on the situation, but Sam waved him down and turned his -brown eyes inquiringly on me. - -'Fifteen per cent is our offer,' he said. - -'And to think it was once fifty-fifty!' - -'Strict business!' - -'Business? It's sweating!' - -'It's our limit. And it wasn't easy to make Buck here agree to -that. He kicked like a mule.' - -Buck shuffled his feet and eyed me disagreeably. I suppose it is -hard to think kindly of a man who has broken your leg. It was -plain that, with Mr MacGinnis, bygones were by no means bygones. - -I rose. - -'Well, I'm sorry you should have had the trouble of coming here -for nothing. Let me see you out. Single file, please.' - -Sam looked aggrieved. - -'You turn it down?' - -'I do.' - -'One moment. Let's have this thing clear. Do you realize what -you're up against? Don't think it's only Buck and me you've got to -tackle. All the boys are here, waiting round the corner, the same -gang that came the other night. Be sensible, sonny. You don't -stand a dog's chance. I shouldn't like to see you get hurt. And -you never know what may not happen. The boys are pretty sore at -you because of what you did that night. I shouldn't act like a -bonehead, sonny--honest.' - -There was a kindly ring in his voice which rather touched me. -Between him and me there had sprung up an odd sort of friendship. -He meant business; but he would, I knew, be genuinely sorry if I -came to harm. And I could see that he was quite sincere in his -belief that I was in a tight corner and that my chances against -the Combine were infinitesimal. I imagine that, with victory so -apparently certain, he had had difficulty in persuading his allies -to allow him to make his offer. - -But he had overlooked one thing--the telephone. That he should -have made this mistake surprised me. If it had been Buck, I could -have understood it. Buck's was a mind which lent itself to such -blunders. From Sam I had expected better things, especially as the -telephone had been so much in evidence of late. He had used it -himself only half an hour ago. - -I clung to the thought of the telephone. It gave me the quiet -satisfaction of the gambler who holds the unforeseen ace. The -situation was in my hands. The police, I knew, had been profoundly -stirred by Mr MacGinnis's previous raid. When I called them up, as -I proposed to do directly the door had closed on the ambassadors, -there would be no lack of response. It would not again be a case -of Inspector Bones and Constable Johnson to the rescue. A great -cloud of willing helpers would swoop to our help. - -With these thoughts in my mind, I answered Sam pleasantly but -firmly. - -'I'm sorry I'm unpopular, but all the same--' - -I indicated the door. - -Emotion that could only be expressed in words and not through his -usual medium welled up in Mr MacGinnis. He sprang forward with a -snarl, falling back as my faithful automatic caught his eye. - -'Say, you! Listen here! You'll--' - -Sam, the peaceable, plucked at his elbow. - -'Nothing doing, Buck. Step lively.' - -Buck wavered, then allowed himself to be drawn away. We passed out -of the classroom in our order of entry. - -An exclamation from the stairs made me look up. Audrey was leaning -over the banisters. Her face was in the shadow, but I gathered -from her voice that the sight of our little procession had -startled her. I was not surprised. Buck was a distinctly startling -spectacle, and his habit of growling to himself, as he walked, -highly disturbing to strangers. - -'Good evening, Mrs Sheridan,' said Sam suavely. - -Audrey did not speak. She seemed fascinated by Buck. - -I opened the front door and they passed out. The automobile was -still purring on the drive. Buck's pistol had disappeared. I -supposed the chauffeur had picked it up, a surmise which was -proved correct a few moments later, when, just as the car was -moving off, there was a sharp crack and a bullet struck the wall -to the right of the door. It was a random shot, and I did not -return it. Its effect on me was to send me into the hall with a -leap that was almost a back-somersault. Somehow, though I was -keyed up for violence and the shooting of pistols, I had not -expected it at just that moment, and I was disagreeably surprised -at the shock it had given me. I slammed the door and bolted it. I -was intensely irritated to find that my fingers were trembling. - -Audrey had left the stairs and was standing beside me. - -'They shot at me,' I said. - -By the light of the hall lamp I could see that she was very pale. - -'It missed by a mile.' My nerves had not recovered and I spoke -abruptly. 'Don't be frightened.' - -'I--I was not frightened,' she said, without conviction. - -'I was,' I said, with conviction. 'It was too sudden for me. It's -the sort of thing one wants to get used to gradually. I shall be -ready for it another time.' - -I made for the stairs. - -'Where are you going?' - -'I'm going to call up the police-station.' - -'Peter.' - -'Yes?' - -'Was--was that man the one you spoke of?' - -'Yes, that was Buck MacGinnis. He and Sam have gone into -partnership.' - -She hesitated. - -'I'm sorry,' she said. - -I was half-way up the stairs by this time. I stopped and looked -over the banisters. - -'Sorry?' - -'I didn't believe you this afternoon.' - -'Oh, that's all right,' I said. I tried to make my voice -indifferent, for I was on guard against insidious friendliness. I -had bludgeoned my mind into an attitude of safe hostility towards -her, and I saw the old chaos ahead if I allowed myself to abandon -it. - -I went to the telephone and unhooked the receiver. - -There is apt to be a certain leisureliness about the methods of -country telephone-operators, and the fact that a voice did not -immediately ask me what number I wanted did not at first disturb -me. Suspicion of the truth came to me, I think, after my third -shout into the receiver had remained unanswered. I had suffered -from delay before, but never such delay as this. - -I must have remained there fully two minutes, shouting at -intervals, before I realized the truth. Then I dropped the -receiver and leaned limply against the wall. For the moment I was -as stunned as if I had received a blow. I could not even think. It -was only by degrees that I recovered sufficiently to understand -that Audrey was speaking to me. - -'What is it? Don't they answer?' - -It is curious how the mind responds to the need for making an -effort for the sake of somebody else. If I had had only myself to -think of, it would, I believe, have been a considerable time -before I could have adjusted my thoughts to grapple with this -disaster. But the necessity of conveying the truth quietly to -Audrey and of helping her to bear up under it steadied me at once. -I found myself thinking quite coolly how best I might break to her -what had happened. - -'I'm afraid,' I said, 'I have something to tell you which may--' - -She interrupted me quickly. - -'What is it? Can't you make them answer?' - -I shook my head. We looked at each other in silence. - -Her mind leaped to the truth more quickly than mine had done. - -'They have cut the wire!' - -I took up the receiver again and gave another call. There was no -reply. - -'I'm afraid so,' I said. - - - - -Chapter 15 - - -I - -'What shall we do?' said Audrey. - -She looked at me hopefully, as if I were a mine of ideas. Her -voice was level, without a suggestion of fear in it. Women have -the gift of being courageous at times when they might legitimately -give way. It is part of their unexpectedness. - -This was certainly such an occasion. Daylight would bring us -relief, for I did not suppose that even Buck MacGinnis would care -to conduct a siege which might be interrupted by the arrival of -tradesmen's carts; but while the darkness lasted we were -completely cut off from the world. With the destruction of the -telephone wire our only link with civilization had been snapped. -Even had the night been less stormy than it was, there was no -chance of the noise of our warfare reaching the ears of anyone who -might come to the rescue. It was as Sam had said, Buck's energy -united to his strategy formed a strong combination. - -Broadly speaking, there are only two courses open to a beleaguered -garrison. It can stay where it is, or it can make a sortie. I -considered the second of these courses. - -It was possible that Sam and his allies had departed in the -automobile to get reinforcements, leaving the coast temporarily -clear; in which case, by escaping from the house at once, we might -be able to slip unobserved through the grounds and reach the -village in safety. To support this theory there was the fact that -the car, on its late visit, had contained only the chauffeur and -the two ambassadors, while Sam had spoken of the remainder of -Buck's gang as being in readiness to attack in the event of my not -coming to terms. That might mean that they were waiting at Buck's -headquarters, wherever those might be--at one of the cottages down -the road, I imagined; and, in the interval before the attack -began, it might be possible for us to make our sortie with -success. - -'Is Ogden in bed?' I asked. - -'Yes.' - -'Will you go and get him up as quickly as you can?' - -I strained my eyes at the window, but it was impossible to see -anything. The rain was still falling heavily. If the drive had -been full of men they would have been invisible to me. - -Presently Audrey returned, followed by Ogden. The Little Nugget -was yawning the aggrieved yawns of one roused from his beauty -sleep. - -'What's all this?' he demanded. - -'Listen,' I said. 'Buck MacGinnis and Smooth Sam Fisher have come -after you. They are outside now. Don't be frightened.' - -He snorted derisively. - -'Who's frightened? I guess they won't hurt _me_. How do you know -it's them?' - -'They have just been here. The man who called himself White, the -butler, was really Sam Fisher. He has been waiting an opportunity -to get you all the term.' - -'White! Was he Sam Fisher?' He chuckled admiringly. 'Say, he's a -wonder!' - -'They have gone to fetch the rest of the gang.' - -'Why don't you call the cops?' - -'They have cut the wire.' - -His only emotions at the news seemed to be amusement and a renewed -admiration for Smooth Sam. He smiled broadly, the little brute. - -'He's a wonder!' he repeated. 'I guess he's smooth, all right. -He's the limit! He'll get me all right this trip. I bet you a -nickel he wins out.' - -I found his attitude trying. That he, the cause of all the trouble, -should be so obviously regarding it as a sporting contest got up -for his entertainment, was hard to bear. And the fact that, whatever -might happen to myself, he was in no danger, comforted me not at all. -If I could have felt that we were in any way companions in peril, -I might have looked on the bulbous boy with quite a friendly eye. -As it was, I nearly kicked him. - -'We had better waste no time,' suggested Audrey, 'if we are going.' - -'I think we ought to try it,' I said. - -'What's that?' asked the Nugget. 'Go where?' - -'We are going to steal out through the back way and try to slip -through to the village.' - -The Nugget's comment on the scheme was brief and to the point. He -did not embarrass me with fulsome praise of my strategic genius. - -'Of all the fool games!' he said simply. 'In this rain? No, sir!' - -This new complication was too much for me. In planning out my -manoeuvres I had taken his cooperation for granted. I had looked -on him as so much baggage--the impedimenta of the retreating army. -And, behold, a mutineer! - -I took him by the scruff of the neck and shook him. It was a -relief to my feelings and a sound move. The argument was one which -he understood. - -'Oh, all right,' he said. 'Anything you like. Come on. But it sounds -to me like darned foolishness!' - -If nothing else had happened to spoil the success of that sortie, -the Nugget's depressing attitude would have done so. Of all things, -it seems to me, a forlorn hope should be undertaken with a certain -enthusiasm and optimism if it is to have a chance of being successful. -Ogden threw a gloom over the proceedings from the start. He was cross -and sleepy, and he condemned the expedition unequivocally. As we moved -towards the back door he kept up a running stream of abusive comment. -I silenced him before cautiously unbolting the door, but he had said -enough to damp my spirits. I do not know what effect it would have -had on Napoleon's tactics if his army--say, before Austerlitz--had -spoken of his manoeuvres as a 'fool game' and of himself as a 'big -chump', but I doubt if it would have stimulated him. - -The back door of Sanstead House opened on to a narrow yard, paved -with flagstones and shut in on all sides but one by walls. To the -left was the outhouse where the coal was stored, a squat barnlike -building: to the right a wall that appeared to have been erected -by the architect in an outburst of pure whimsicality. It just -stood there. It served no purpose that I had ever been able to -discover, except to act as a cats' club-house. - -Tonight, however, I was thankful for this wall. It formed an -important piece of cover. By keeping in its shelter it was -possible to work round the angle of the coal-shed, enter the -stable-yard, and, by making a detour across the football field, -avoid the drive altogether. And it was the drive, in my opinion, -that might be looked on as the danger zone. - -The Nugget's complaints, which I had momentarily succeeded in -checking, burst out afresh as the rain swept in at the open door -and lashed our faces. Certainly it was not an ideal night for a -ramble. The wind was blowing through the opening at the end of the -yard with a compressed violence due to the confined space. There -was a suggestion in our position of the Cave of the Winds under -Niagara Falls, the verisimilitude of which was increased by the -stream of water that poured down from the gutter above our heads. -The Nugget found it unpleasant, and said so shrilly. - -I pushed him out into the storm, still protesting, and we began to -creep across the yard. Half-way to the first point of importance -of our journey, the corner of the coal-shed, I halted the -expedition. There was a sudden lull in the wind, and I took -advantage of it to listen. - -From somewhere beyond the wall, apparently near the house, sounded -the muffled note of the automobile. The siege-party had returned. - -There was no time to be lost. Apparently the possibility of a -sortie had not yet occurred to Sam, or he would hardly have left -the back door unguarded; but a general of his astuteness was -certain to remedy the mistake soon, and our freedom of action -might be a thing of moments. It behoved us to reach the stable-yard -as quickly as possible. Once there, we should be practically through -the enemy's lines. - -Administering a kick to the Nugget, who showed a disposition to -linger and talk about the weather, I moved on, and we reached the -corner of the coal-shed in safety. - -We had now arrived at the really perilous stage in our journey. -Having built his wall to a point level with the end of the coal-shed, -the architect had apparently wearied of the thing and given it up; -for it ceased abruptly, leaving us with a matter of half a dozen -yards of open ground to cross, with nothing to screen us from the -watchers on the drive. The flagstones, moreover, stopped at this -point. On the open space was loose gravel. Even if the darkness -allowed us to make the crossing unseen, there was the risk that we -might be heard. - -It was a moment for a flash of inspiration, and I was waiting for -one, when that happened which took the problem out of my hands. -From the interior of the shed on our left there came a sudden -scrabbling of feet over loose coal, and through the square opening -in the wall, designed for the peaceful purpose of taking in sacks, -climbed two men. A pistol cracked. From the drive came an -answering shout. We had been ambushed. - -I had misjudged Sam. He had not overlooked the possibility of a -sortie. - -It is the accidents of life that turn the scale in a crisis. The -opening through which the men had leaped was scarcely a couple of -yards behind the spot where we were standing. If they had leaped -fairly and kept their feet, they would have been on us before we -could have moved. But Fortune ordered it that, zeal outrunning -discretion, the first of the two should catch his foot in the -woodwork and fall on all fours, while the second, unable to check -his spring, alighted on top of him, and, judging from the stifled -yell which followed, must have kicked him in the face. - -In the moment of their downfall I was able to form a plan and -execute it. - -'The stables!' - -I shouted the words to Audrey in the act of snatching up the -Nugget and starting to run. She understood. She did not hesitate -in the direction of the house for even the instant which might -have undone us, but was with me at once; and we were across the -open space and in the stable-yard before the first of the men in -the drive loomed up through the darkness. Half of the wooden -double-gate of the yard was open, and the other half served us as -a shield. They fired as they ran--at random, I think, for it was -too dark for them to have seen us clearly--and two bullets slapped -against the gate. A third struck the wall above our heads and -ricocheted off into the night. But before they could fire again we -were in the stables, the door slammed behind us, and I had dumped -the Nugget on the floor, and was shooting the heavy bolts into -their places. Footsteps clattered over the flagstones and stopped -outside. Some weighty body plunged against the door. Then there -was silence. The first round was over. - -The stables, as is the case in most English country-houses, had -been, in its palmy days, the glory of Sanstead House. In whatever -other respect the British architect of that period may have fallen -short, he never scamped his work on the stables. He built them -strong and solid, with walls fitted to repel the assaults of the -weather, and possibly those of men as well, for the Boones in -their day had been mighty owners of race-horses at a time when men -with money at stake did not stick at trifles, and it was prudent -to see to it that the spot where the favourite was housed had -something of the nature of a fortress. The walls were thick, the -door solid, the windows barred with iron. We could scarcely have -found a better haven of refuge. - -Under Mr Abney's rule, the stables had lost their original -character. They had been divided into three compartments, each -separated by a stout wall. One compartment became a gymnasium, -another the carpenter's shop, the third, in which we were, -remained a stable, though in these degenerate days no horse ever -set foot inside it, its only use being to provide a place for the -odd-job man to clean shoes. The mangers which had once held fodder -were given over now to brushes and pots of polish. In term-time, -bicycles were stored in the loose-box which had once echoed to the -tramping of Derby favourites. - -I groped about among the pots and brushes, and found a candle-end, -which I lit. I was running a risk, but it was necessary to inspect -our ground. I had never troubled really to examine this stable -before, and I wished to put myself in touch with its geography. - -I blew out the candle, well content with what I had seen. The only -two windows were small, high up, and excellently barred. Even if -the enemy fired through them there were half a dozen spots where -we should be perfectly safe. Best of all, in the event of the door -being carried by assault, we had a second line of defence in a -loft. A ladder against the back wall led to it, by way of a trap-door. -Circumstances had certainly been kind to us in driving us to this -apparently impregnable shelter. - -On concluding my inspection, I became aware that the Nugget was -still occupied with his grievances. I think the shots must have -stimulated his nerve centres, for he had abandoned the languid -drawl with which, in happier moments, he was wont to comment on -life's happenings, and was dealing with the situation with a -staccato briskness. - -'Of all the darned fool lay-outs I ever struck, this is the limit. -What do those idiots think they're doing, shooting us up that way? -It went within an inch of my head. It might have killed me. Gee, -and I'm all wet. I'm catching cold. It's all through your blamed -foolishness, bringing us out here. Why couldn't we stay in the -house?' - -'We could not have kept them out of the house for five minutes,' I -explained. 'We can hold this place.' - -'Who wants to hold it? I don't. What does it matter if they do get -me? _I_ don't care. I've a good mind to walk straight out through -that door and let them rope me in. It would serve Dad right. It -would teach him not to send me away from home to any darned school -again. What did he want to do it for? I was all right where I was. -I--' - -A loud hammering on the door cut off his eloquence. The -intermission was over, and the second round had begun. - -It was pitch dark in the stable now that I had blown out the -candle, and there is something about a combination of noise and -darkness which tries the nerves. If mine had remained steady, I -should have ignored the hammering. From the sound, it appeared to -be made by some wooden instrument--a mallet from the carpenter's -shop I discovered later--and the door could be relied on to hold -its own without my intervention. For a novice to violence, -however, to maintain a state of calm inaction is the most -difficult feat of all. I was irritated and worried by the noise, -and exaggerated its importance. It seemed to me that it must be -stopped at once. - -A moment before, I had bruised my shins against an empty packing-case, -which had found its way with other lumber into the stable. I groped -for this, swung it noiselessly into position beneath the window, -and, standing on it, looked out. I found the catch of the window, -and opened it. There was nothing to be seen, but the sound of the -hammering became more distinct; and pushing an arm through the bars, -I emptied my pistol at a venture. - -As a practical move, the action had flaws. The shots cannot have -gone anywhere near their vague target. But as a demonstration, it -was a wonderful success. The yard became suddenly full of dancing -bullets. They struck the flagstones, bounded off, chipped the -bricks of the far wall, ricocheted from those, buzzed in all -directions, and generally behaved in a manner calculated to unman -the stoutest hearted. - -The siege-party did not stop to argue. They stampeded as one man. -I could hear them clattering across the flagstones to every point -of the compass. In a few seconds silence prevailed, broken only by -the swish of the rain. Round two had been brief, hardly worthy to -be called a round at all, and, like round one, it had ended wholly -in our favour. - -I jumped down from my packing-case, swelling with pride. I had had -no previous experience of this sort of thing, yet here I was -handling the affair like a veteran. I considered that I had a -right to feel triumphant. I lit the candle again, and beamed -protectively upon the garrison. - -The Nugget was sitting on the floor, gaping feebly, and awed for -the moment into silence. Audrey, in the far corner, looked pale -but composed. Her behaviour was perfect. There was nothing for her -to do, and she was doing it with a quiet self-control which won -my admiration. Her manner seemed to me exactly suited to the -exigencies of the situation. With a super-competent dare-devil -like myself in charge of affairs, all she had to do was to wait -and not get in the way. - -'I didn't hit anybody,' I announced, 'but they ran like rabbits. -They are all over Hampshire.' - -I laughed indulgently. I could afford an attitude of tolerant -amusement towards the enemy. - -'Will they come back?' - -'Possibly. And in that case'--I felt in my left-hand coat-pocket--'I -had better be getting ready.' I felt in my right-hand coat-pocket. -'Ready,' I repeated blankly. A clammy coldness took possession of me. -My voice trailed off into nothingness. For in neither pocket was -There a single one of the shells with which I had fancied that I -was abundantly provided. In moments of excitement man is apt to make -mistakes. I had made mine when, starting out on the sortie, I had -left all my ammunition in the house. - - -II - -I should like to think that it was an unselfish desire to spare my -companions anxiety that made me keep my discovery to myself. But I -am afraid that my reticence was due far more to the fact that I -shrank from letting the Nugget discover my imbecile carelessness. -Even in times of peril one retains one's human weaknesses; and I -felt that I could not face his comments. If he had permitted a -certain note of querulousness to creep into his conversation -already, the imagination recoiled from the thought of the caustic -depths he would reach now should I reveal the truth. - -I tried to make things better with cheery optimism. - -'_They_ won't come back!' I said stoutly, and tried to believe it. - -The Nugget as usual struck the jarring note. - -'Well, then, let's beat it,' he said. 'I don't want to spend the -night in this darned icehouse. I tell you I'm catching cold. My -chest's weak. If you're so dead certain you've scared them away, -let's quit.' - -I was not prepared to go as far as this. - -'They may be somewhere near, hiding.' - -'Well, what if they are? I don't mind being kidnapped. Let's go.' - -'I think we ought to wait,' said Audrey. - -'Of course,' I said. 'It would be madness to go out now.' - -'Oh, pshaw!' said the Little Nugget; and from this point onwards -punctuated the proceedings with a hacking cough. - -I had never really believed that my demonstration had brought the -siege to a definite end. I anticipated that there would be some -delay before the renewal of hostilities, but I was too well -acquainted with Buck MacGinnis's tenacity to imagine that he would -abandon his task because a few random shots had spread momentary -panic in his ranks. He had all the night before him, and sooner or -later he would return. - -I had judged him correctly. Many minutes dragged wearily by -without a sign from the enemy, then, listening at the window, I -heard footsteps crossing the yard and voices talking in cautious -undertones. The fight was on once more. - -A bright light streamed through the window, flooding the opening -and spreading in a wide circle on the ceiling. It was not -difficult to understand what had happened. They had gone to the -automobile and come back with one of the head-lamps, an astute -move in which I seemed to see the finger of Sam. The danger-spot -thus rendered harmless, they renewed their attack on the door with -a reckless vigour. The mallet had been superseded by some heavier -instrument--of iron this time. I think it must have been the jack -from the automobile. It was a more formidable weapon altogether -than the mallet, and even our good oak door quivered under it. - -A splintering of wood decided me that the time had come to retreat -to our second line of entrenchments. How long the door would hold -it was impossible to say, but I doubted if it was more than a -matter of minutes. - -Relighting my candle, which I had extinguished from motives of -economy, I caught Audrey's eye and jerked my head towards the -ladder. - -'You go first,' I whispered. - -The Nugget watched her disappear through the trap-door, then -turned to me with an air of resolution. - -'If you think you're going to get _me_ up there, you've -another guess coming. I'm going to wait here till they get in, and -let them take me. I'm about tired of this foolishness.' - -It was no time for verbal argument. I collected him, a kicking -handful, bore him to the ladder, and pushed him through the -opening. He uttered one of his devastating squeals. The sound -seemed to encourage the workers outside like a trumpet-blast. The -blows on the door redoubled. - -I climbed the ladder and shut the trap-door behind me. - -The air of the loft was close and musty and smelt of mildewed hay. -It was not the sort of spot which one would have selected of one's -own free will to sit in for any length of time. There was a rustling -noise, and a rat scurried across the rickety floor, drawing a -startled gasp from Audrey and a disgusted 'Oh, piffle!' from the -Nugget. Whatever merits this final refuge might have as a stronghold, -it was beyond question a noisome place. - -The beating on the stable-door was working up to a crescendo. -Presently there came a crash that shook the floor on which we sat -and sent our neighbours, the rats, scuttling to and fro in a -perfect frenzy of perturbation. The light of the automobile lamp -poured in through the numerous holes and chinks which the passage -of time had made in the old boards. There was one large hole near -the centre which produced a sort of searchlight effect, and -allowed us for the first time to see what manner of place it was -in which we had entrenched ourselves. The loft was high and -spacious. The roof must have been some seven feet above our heads. -I could stand upright without difficulty. - -In the proceedings beneath us there had come a lull. The mystery -of our disappearance had not baffled the enemy for long, for almost -immediately the rays of the lamp had shifted and begun to play on -the trap-door. I heard somebody climb the ladder, and the trap-door -creaked gently as a hand tested it. I had taken up a position beside -it, ready, if the bolt gave way, to do what I could with the butt of -my pistol, my only weapon. But the bolt, though rusty, was strong, -and the man dropped to the ground again. Since then, except for -occasional snatches of whispered conversation, I had heard nothing. - -Suddenly Sam's voice spoke. - -'Mr Burns!' - -I saw no advantage in remaining silent. - -'Well?' - -'Haven't you had enough of this? You've given us a mighty good run -for our money, but you can see for yourself that you're through -now. I'd hate like anything for you to get hurt. Pass the kid -down, and we'll call it off.' - -He paused. - -'Well?' he said. 'Why don't you answer?' - -'I did.' - -'Did you? I didn't hear you.' - -'I smiled.' - -'You mean to stick it out? Don't be foolish, sonny. The boys here -are mad enough at you already. What's the use of getting yourself -in bad for nothing? We've got you in a pocket. I know all about that -gun of yours, young fellow. I had a suspicion what had happened, -and I've been into the house and found the shells you forgot to -take with you. So, if you were thinking of making a bluff in that -direction forget it!' - -The exposure had the effect I had anticipated. - -'Of all the chumps!' exclaimed the Nugget caustically. 'You ought -to be in a home. Well, I guess you'll agree to end this foolishness -now? Let's go down and get it over and have some peace. I'm getting -pneumonia.' - -'You're quite right, Mr Fisher,' I said. 'But don't forget I still -have the pistol, even if I haven't the shells. The first man who -tries to come up here will have a headache tomorrow.' - -'I shouldn't bank on it, sonny. Come along, kiddo! You're done. Be -good, and own it. We can't wait much longer.' - -'You'll have to try.' - -Buck's voice broke in on the discussion, quite unintelligible -except that it was obviously wrathful. - -'Oh well!' I heard Sam say resignedly, and then there was silence -again below. - -I resumed my watch over the trap-door, encouraged. This parleying, -I thought, was an admission of failure on the part of the -besiegers. I did not credit Sam with a real concern for my -welfare--thereby doing him an injustice. I can see now that he -spoke perfectly sincerely. The position, though I was unaware of -it, really was hopeless, for the reason that, like most positions, -it had a flank as well as a front. In estimating the possibilities -of attack, I had figured assaults as coming only from below. I had -omitted from my calculations the fact that the loft had a roof. - -It was a scraping on the tiles above my head that first brought -the new danger-point to my notice. There followed the sound of -heavy hammering, and with it came a sickening realization of the -truth of what Sam had said. We were beaten. - -I was too paralysed by the unexpectedness of the attack to form -any plan; and, indeed, I do not think that there was anything that -I could have done. I was unarmed and helpless. I stood there, -waiting for the inevitable. - -Affairs moved swiftly. Plaster rained down on to the wooden floor. -I was vaguely aware that the Nugget was speaking, but I did not -listen to him. - -A gap appeared in the roof and widened. I could hear the heavy -breathing of the man as he wrenched at the tiles. - -And then the climax arrived, with anticlimax following so swiftly -upon it that the two were almost simultaneous. I saw the worker on -the roof cautiously poise himself in the opening, hunched up like -some strange ape. The next moment he had sprung. - -As his feet touched the floor there came a rending, splintering -crash; the air was filled with a choking dust, and he was gone. -The old worn out boards had shaken under my tread. They had given -way in complete ruin beneath this sharp onslaught. The rays of the -lamp, which had filtered in like pencils of light through -crevices, now shone in a great lake in the centre of the floor. - -In the stable below all was confusion. Everybody was speaking at -once. The hero of the late disaster was groaning horribly, for -which he certainly had good reason: I did not know the extent of -his injuries, but a man does not do that sort of thing with -impunity. The next of the strange happenings of the night now -occurred. - -I had not been giving the Nugget a great deal of my attention for -some time, other and more urgent matters occupying me. - -His action at this juncture, consequently, came as a complete and -crushing surprise. - -I was edging my way cautiously towards the jagged hole in the -centre of the floor, in the hope of seeing something of what was -going on below, when from close beside me his voice screamed. -'It's me, Ogden Ford. I'm coming!' and, without further warning, -he ran to the hole, swung himself over, and dropped. - -Manna falling from the skies in the wilderness never received a -more whole-hearted welcome. Howls and cheers and ear-splitting -whoops filled the air. The babel of talk broke out again. Some -exuberant person found expression of his joy in emptying his -pistol at the ceiling, to my acute discomfort, the spot he had -selected as a target chancing to be within a foot of where I -stood. Then they moved off in a body, still cheering. The fight -was over. - -I do not know how long it was before I spoke. It may have been -some minutes. I was dazed with the swiftness with which the final -stages of the drama had been played out. If I had given him more -of my attention, I might have divined that Ogden had been waiting -his opportunity to make some such move; but, as it was, the -possibility had not even occurred to me, and I was stunned. - -In the distance I heard the automobile moving off down the drive. -The sound roused me. - -'Well, we may as well go,' I said dully. I lit the candle and held -it up. Audrey was standing against the wall, her face white and -set. - -I raised the trap-door and followed her down the ladder. - -The rain had ceased, and the stars were shining. After the -closeness of the loft, the clean wet air was delicious. For a -moment we stopped, held by the peace and stillness of the night. - -Then, quite suddenly, she broke down. - -It was the unexpectedness of it that first threw me off my balance. -In all the time I had known her, I had never before seen Audrey in -tears. Always, in the past, she had borne the blows of fate with a -stoical indifference which had alternately attracted and repelled -me, according as my mood led me to think it courage or insensibility. -In the old days, it had done much, this trait of hers, to rear a -barrier between us. It had made her seem aloof and unapproachable. -Subconsciously, I suppose, it had offended my egoism that she should -be able to support herself in times of trouble, and not feel it -necessary to lean on me. - -And now the barrier had fallen. The old independence, the almost -aggressive self-reliance, had vanished. A new Audrey had revealed -herself. - -She was sobbing helplessly, standing quite still, her arms hanging -and her eyes staring blankly before her. There was something in -her attitude so hopeless, so beaten, that the pathos of it seemed -to cut me like a knife. - -'Audrey!' - -The stars glittered in the little pools among the worn flagstones. -The night was very still. Only the steady drip of water from the -trees broke the silence. - -A great wave of tenderness seemed to sweep from my mind everything -in the world but her. Everything broke abruptly that had been -checking me, stifling me, holding me gagged and bound since the -night when our lives had come together again after those five long -years. I forgot Cynthia, my promise, everything. - -'Audrey!' - -She was in my arms, clinging to me, murmuring my name. The -darkness was about us like a cloud. - -And then she had slipped from me, and was gone. - - - - -Chapter 16 - - -In my recollections of that strange night there are wide gaps. -Trivial incidents come back to me with extraordinary vividness; -while there are hours of which I can remember nothing. What I did -or where I went I cannot recall. It seems to me, looking back, -that I walked without a pause till morning; yet, when day came, I -was still in the school grounds. Perhaps I walked, as a wounded -animal runs, in circles. I lost, I know, all count of time. I -became aware of the dawn as something that had happened suddenly, -as if light had succeeded darkness in a flash. It had been night; -I looked about me, and it was day--a steely, cheerless day, like a -December evening. And I found that I was very cold, very tired, -and very miserable. - -My mind was like the morning, grey and overcast. Conscience may be -expelled, but, like Nature, it will return. Mine, which I had cast -from me, had crept back with the daylight. I had had my hour of -freedom, and it was now for me to pay for it. - -I paid in full. My thoughts tore me. I could see no way out. -Through the night the fever and exhilaration of that mad moment -had sustained me, but now the morning had come, when dreams must -yield to facts, and I had to face the future. - -I sat on the stump of a tree, and buried my face in my hands. I -must have fallen asleep, for, when I raised my eyes again, the day -was brighter. Its cheerlessness had gone. The sky was blue, and -birds were singing. - -It must have been about half an hour later that the first -beginnings of a plan of action came to me. I could not trust -myself to reason out my position clearly and honestly in this -place where Audrey's spell was over everything. The part of me -that was struggling to be loyal to Cynthia was overwhelmed here. -London called to me. I could think there, face my position -quietly, and make up my mind. - -I turned to walk to the station. I could not guess even remotely -what time it was. The sun was shining through the trees, but in -the road outside the grounds there were no signs of workers -beginning the day. - -It was half past five when I reached the station. A sleepy porter -informed me that there would be a train to London, a slow train, -at six. - - * * * * * - -I remained in London two days, and on the third went down to Sanstead -to see Audrey for the last time. I had made my decision. - -I found her on the drive, close by the gate. She turned at my -footstep on the gravel; and, as I saw her, I knew that the fight -which I had thought over was only beginning. - -I was shocked at her appearance. Her face was very pale, and there -were tired lines about her eyes. - -I could not speak. Something choked me. Once again, as on that -night in the stable-yard, the world and all that was in it seemed -infinitely remote. - -It was she who broke the silence. - -'Well, Peter,' she said listlessly. - -We walked up the drive together. - -'Have you been to London?' - -'Yes. I came down this morning.' I paused. 'I went there to -think,' I said. - -She nodded. - -'I have been thinking, too.' - -I stopped, and began to hollow out a groove in the wet gravel with -my heel. Words were not coming readily. - -Suddenly she found speech. She spoke quickly, but her voice was -dull and lifeless. - -'Let us forget what has happened, Peter. We were neither of us -ourselves. I was tired and frightened and disappointed. You were -sorry for me just at the moment, and your nerves were strained, -like mine. It was all nothing. Let us forget it.' - -I shook my head. - -'No,' I said. 'It was not that. I can't let you even pretend you -think that was all. I love you. I always have loved you, though I -did not know how much till you had gone away. After a time, I -thought I had got over it. But when I met you again down here, I -knew that I had not, and never should. I came back to say good-bye, -but I shall always love you. It is my punishment for being the sort -of man I was five years ago.' - -'And mine for being the sort of woman I was five years ago.' She -laughed bitterly. 'Woman! I was just a little fool, a sulky child. -My punishment is going to be worse than yours, Peter. You will not -be always thinking that you had the happiness of two lives in your -hands, and threw it away because you had not the sense to hold -it.' - -'It is just that that I shall always be thinking. What happened -five years ago was my fault, Audrey, and nobody's but mine. I -don't think that, even when the loss of you hurt most, I ever -blamed you for going away. You had made me see myself as I was, -and I knew that you had done the right thing. I was selfish, -patronizing--I was insufferable. It was I who threw away our -happiness. You put it in a sentence that first day here, when you -said that I had been kind--sometimes--when I happened to think of -it. That summed me up. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. -I think we have not had the best of luck; but all the blame is -mine.' - -A flush came into her pale face. - -'I remember saying that. I said it because I was afraid of myself. -I was shaken by meeting you again. I thought you must be hating -me--you had every reason to hate me, and you spoke as if you -did--and I did not want to show you what you were to me. It wasn't -true, Peter. Five years ago I may have thought it, but not now. I -have grown to understand the realities by this time. I have been -through too much to have any false ideas left. I have had some -chance to compare men, and I realize that they are not all kind, -Peter, even sometimes, when they happen to think of it.' - -'Audrey,' I said--I had never found myself able to ask the -question before--'was--was--he--was Sheridan kind to you?' - -She did not speak for a moment, and I thought she was resenting -the question. - -'No!' she said abruptly. - -She shot out the monosyllable with a force that startled and -silenced me. There was a whole history of unhappiness in the word. - -'No,' she said again, after a pause, more gently this time. I -understood. She was speaking of a dead man. - -'I can't talk about him,' she went on hurriedly. 'I expect most of -it was my fault. I was unhappy because he was not you, and he saw -that I was unhappy and hated me for it. We had nothing in common. -It was just a piece of sheer madness, our marriage. He swept me -off my feet. I never had a great deal of sense, and I lost it all -then. I was far happier when he had left me.' - -'Left you?' - -'He deserted me almost directly we reached America.' She laughed. -'I told you I had grown to understand the realities. I began -then.' - -I was horrified. For the first time I realized vividly all that -she had gone through. When she had spoken to me before of her -struggles that evening over the study fire, I had supposed that -they had begun only after her husband's death, and that her life -with him had in some measure trained her for the fight. That she -should have been pitched into the arena, a mere child, with no -experience of life, appalled me. And, as she spoke, there came to -me the knowledge that now I could never do what I had come to do. -I could not give her up. She needed me. I tried not to think of -Cynthia. - -I took her hand. - -'Audrey,' I said, 'I came here to say good-bye. I can't. I want -you. Nothing matters except you. I won't give you up.' - -'It's too late,' she said, with a little catch in her voice. 'You -are engaged to Mrs Ford.' - -'I am engaged, but not to Mrs Ford. I am engaged to someone you -have never met--Cynthia Drassilis.' - -She pulled her hand away quickly, wide-eyed, and for some moments -was silent. - -'Do you love her?' she asked at last. - -'No.' - -'Does she love you?' - -Cynthia's letter rose before my eyes, that letter that could have -had no meaning, but one. - -'I am afraid she does,' I said. - -She looked at me steadily. Her face was very pale. - -'You must marry her, Peter.' - -I shook my head. - -'You must. She believes in you.' - -'I can't. I want you. And you need me. Can you deny that you need -me?' - -'No.' - -She said it quite simply, without emotion. I moved towards her, -thrilling, but she stepped back. - -'She needs you too,' she said. - -A dull despair was creeping over me. I was weighed down by a -premonition of failure. I had fought my conscience, my sense of -duty and honour, and crushed them. She was raising them up against -me once more. My self-control broke down. - -'Audrey,' I cried, 'for God's sake can't you see what you're -doing? We have been given a second chance. Our happiness is in -your hands again, and you are throwing it away. Why should we make -ourselves wretched for the whole of our lives? What does anything -else matter except that we love each other? Why should we let -anything stand in our way? I won't give you up.' - -She did not answer. Her eyes were fixed on the ground. Hope began -to revive in me, telling me that I had persuaded her. But when she -looked up it was with the same steady gaze, and my heart sank -again. - -'Peter,' she said, 'I want to tell you something. It will make you -understand, I think. I haven't been honest, Peter. I have not -fought fairly. All these weeks, ever since we met, I have been -trying to steal you. It's the only word. I have tried every little -miserable trick I could think of to steal you from the girl you -had promised to marry. And she wasn't here to fight for herself. I -didn't think of her. I was wrapped up in my own selfishness. And -then, after that night, when you had gone away, I thought it all -out. I had a sort of awakening. I saw the part I had been playing. -Even then I tried to persuade myself that I had done something -rather fine. I thought, you see, at that time that you were -infatuated with Mrs Ford--and I know Mrs Ford. If she is capable -of loving any man, she loves Mr Ford, though they are divorced. I -knew she would only make you unhappy. I told myself I was saving -you. Then you told me it was not Mrs Ford, but this girl. That -altered everything. Don't you see that I can't let you give her up -now? You would despise me. I shouldn't feel clean. I should feel -as if I had stabbed her in the back.' - -I forced a laugh. It rang hollow against the barrier that -separated us. In my heart I knew that this barrier was not to be -laughed away. - -'Can't you see, Peter? You must see.' - -'I certainly don't. I think you're overstrained, and that you have -let your imagination run away with you. I--' - -She interrupted me. - -'Do you remember that evening in the study?' she asked abruptly. -'We had been talking. I had been telling you how I had lived -during those five years.' - -'I remember.' - -'Every word I spoke was spoken with an object--calculated.... Yes, -even the pauses. I tried to make _them_ tell, too. I knew -you, you see, Peter. I knew you through and through, because I -loved you, and I knew the effect those tales would have on you. -Oh, they were all true. I was honest as far as that goes. But they -had the mean motive at the back of them. I was playing on your -feelings. I knew how kind you were, how you would pity me. I set -myself to create an image which would stay in your mind and kill -the memory of the other girl; the image of a poor, ill-treated -little creature who should work through to your heart by way of -your compassion. I knew you, Peter, I knew you. And then I did a -meaner thing still. I pretended to stumble in the dark. I meant -you to catch me and hold me, and you did. And ...' - -Her voice broke off. - -'I'm glad I have told you,' she said. 'It makes it a little -better. You understand now how I feel, don't you?' - -She held out her hand. - -'Good-bye.' - -'I am not going to give you up,' I said doggedly. - -'Good-bye,' she said again. Her voice was a whisper. - -I took her hand and began to draw her towards me. - -'It is not good-bye. There is no one else in the world but you, -and I am not going to give you up.' - -'Peter!' she struggled feebly. 'Oh, let me go.' - -I drew her nearer. - -'I won't let you go,' I said. - -But, as I spoke, there came the sound of automobile wheels on the -gravel. A large red car was coming up the drive. I dropped -Audrey's hand, and she stepped back and was lost in the shrubbery. -The car slowed down and stopped beside me. There were two women in -the tonneau. One, who was dark and handsome, I did not know. The -other was Mrs Drassilis. - - - - -Chapter 17 - - -I was given no leisure for wondering how Cynthia's mother came to -be in the grounds of Sanstead House, for her companion, almost -before the car had stopped, jumped out and clutched me by the arm, -at the same time uttering this cryptic speech: 'Whatever he offers -I'll double!' - -She fixed me, as she spoke, with a commanding eye. She was a woman, -I gathered in that instant, born to command. There seemed, at any -rate, no doubt in her mind that she could command me. If I had -been a black beetle she could not have looked at me with a more -scornful superiority. Her eyes were very large and of a rich, fiery -brown colour, and it was these that gave me my first suspicion of -her identity. As to the meaning of her words, however, I had no clue. - -'Bear that in mind,' she went on. 'I'll double it if it's a -million dollars.' - -'I'm afraid I don't understand,' I said, finding speech. - -She clicked her tongue impatiently. - -'There's no need to be so cautious and mysterious. This lady is a -friend of mine. She knows all about it. I asked her to come. I'm -Mrs Elmer Ford. I came here directly I got your letter. I think -you're the lowest sort of scoundrel that ever managed to keep out -of gaol, but that needn't make any difference just now. We're here -to talk business, Mr Fisher, so we may as well begin.' - -I was getting tired of being taken for Smooth Sam. - -'I am not Smooth Sam Fisher.' - -I turned to the automobile. 'Will you identify me, Mrs Drassilis?' - -She was regarding me with wide-open eyes. - -'What on earth are you doing down here? I have been trying -everywhere to find you, but nobody--' - -Mrs Ford interrupted her. She gave me the impression of being a -woman who wanted a good deal of the conversation, and who did not -care how she got it. In a conversational sense she thugged Mrs -Drassilis at this point, or rather she swept over her like some -tidal wave, blotting her out. - -'Oh,' she said fixing her brown eyes, less scornful now but still -imperious, on mine. 'I must apologize. I have made a mistake. I -took you for a low villain of the name of Sam Fisher. I hope you -will forgive me. I was to have met him at this exact spot just -about this time, by appointment, so, seeing you here, I mistook -you for him.' - -'If I might have a word with you alone?' I said. - -Mrs Ford had a short way with people. In matters concerning her -own wishes, she took their acquiescence for granted. - -'Drive on up to the house, Jarvis,' she said, and Mrs Drassilis -was whirled away round the curve of the drive before she knew what -had happened to her. - -'Well?' - -'My name is Burns,' I said. - -'Now I understand,' she said. 'I know who you are now.' She -paused, and I was expecting her to fawn upon me for my gallant -service in her cause, when she resumed in quite a different -strain. - -'I can't think what you can have been about, Mr Burns, not to have -been able to do what Cynthia asked you. Surely in all these weeks -and months.... And then, after all, to have let this Fisher -scoundrel steal him away from under your nose...!' - -She gave me a fleeting glance of unfathomable scorn. And when I -thought of all the sufferings I had gone through that term owing -to her repulsive son and, indirectly, for her sake, I felt that -the time had come to speak out. - -'May I describe the way in which I allowed your son to be stolen -away from under my nose?' I said. And in well-chosen words, I -sketched the outline of what had happened. I did not omit to lay -stress on the fact that the Nugget's departure with the enemy was -entirely voluntary. - -She heard me out in silence. - -'That was too bad of Oggie,' she said tolerantly, when I had -ceased dramatically on the climax of my tale. - -As a comment it seemed to me inadequate. - -'Oggie was always high-spirited,' she went on. 'No doubt you have -noticed that?' - -'A little.' - -'He could be led, but never driven. With the best intentions, no -doubt, you refused to allow him to leave the stables that night -and return to the house, and he resented the check and took the -matter into his own hands.' She broke off and looked at her watch. -'Have you a watch? What time is it? Only that? I thought it must -be later. I arrived too soon. I got a letter from this man Fisher, -naming this spot and this hour for a meeting, when we could -discuss terms. He said that he had written to Mr Ford, appointing -the same time.' She frowned. 'I have no doubt he will come,' she -said coldly. - -'Perhaps this is his car,' I said. - -A second automobile was whirring up the drive. There was a shout -as it came within sight of us, and the chauffeur put on the brake. -A man sprang from the tonneau. He jerked a word to the chauffeur, -and the car went on up the drive. - -He was a massively built man of middle age, with powerful shoulders, -and a face--when he had removed his motor-goggles very like any one -of half a dozen of those Roman emperors whose features have come -down to us on coins and statues, square-jawed, clean-shaven, and -aggressive. Like his late wife (who was now standing, drawn up to -her full height, staring haughtily at him) he had the air of one -born to command. I should imagine that the married life of these -two must have been something more of a battle even than most married -lives. The clashing of those wills must have smacked of a collision -between the immovable mass and the irresistible force. - -He met Mrs Ford's stare with one equally militant, then turned to -me. - -'I'll give you double what she has offered you,' he said. He -paused, and eyed me with loathing. 'You damned scoundrel,' he -added. - -Custom ought to have rendered me immune to irritation, but it had -not. I spoke my mind. - -'One of these days, Mr Ford,' I said, 'I am going to publish a -directory of the names and addresses of the people who have -mistaken me for Smooth Sam Fisher. I am not Sam Fisher. Can you -grasp that? My name is Peter Burns, and for the past term I have -been a master at this school. And I may say that, judging from -what I know of the little brute, any one who kidnapped your son as -long as two days ago will be so anxious by now to get rid of him -that he will probably want to pay you for taking him back.' - -My words almost had the effect of bringing this divorced couple -together again. They made common cause against me. It was probably -the first time in years that they had formed even a temporary -alliance. - -'How dare you talk like that!' said Mrs Ford. 'Oggie is a sweet -boy in every respect.' - -'You're perfectly right, Nesta,' said Mr Ford. 'He may want -intelligent handling, but he's a mighty fine boy. I shall make -inquiries, and if this man has been ill-treating Ogden, I shall -complain to Mr Abney. Where the devil is this man Fisher?' he -broke off abruptly. - -'On the spot,' said an affable voice. The bushes behind me parted, -and Smooth Sam stepped out on to the gravel. - -I had recognized him by his voice. I certainly should not have -done so by his appearance. He had taken the precaution of 'making -up' for this important meeting. A white wig of indescribable -respectability peeped out beneath his black hat. His eyes twinkled -from under two penthouses of white eyebrows. A white moustache -covered his mouth. He was venerable to a degree. - -He nodded to me, and bared his white head gallantly to Mrs Ford. - -'No worse for our little outing, Mr Burns, I am glad to see. Mrs -Ford, I must apologize for my apparent unpunctuality, but I was -not really behind time. I have been waiting in the bushes. I -thought it just possible that you might have brought unwelcome -members of the police force with you, and I have been scouting, as -it were, before making my advance. I see, however, that all is -well, and we can come at once to business. May I say, before we -begin, that I overheard your recent conversation, and that I -entirely disagree with Mr Burns. Master Ford is a charming boy. -Already I feel like an elder brother to him. I am loath to part -with him.' - -'How much?' snapped Mr Ford. 'You've got me. How much do you -want?' - -'I'll give you double what he offers,' cried Mrs Ford. - -Sam held up his hand, his old pontifical manner intensified by the -white wig. - -'May I speak? Thank you. This is a little embarrassing. When I -asked you both to meet me here, it was not for the purpose of -holding an auction. I had a straight-forward business proposition -to make to you. It will necessitate a certain amount of plain and -somewhat personal speaking. May I proceed? Thank you. I will be as -brief as possible.' - -His eloquence appeared to have had a soothing effect on the two -Fords. They remained silent. - -'You must understand,' said Sam, 'that I am speaking as an expert. -I have been in the kidnapping business many years, and I know what -I am talking about. And I tell you that the moment you two got -your divorce, you said good-bye to all peace and quiet. Bless -you'--Sam's manner became fatherly--'I've seen it a hundred -times. Couple get divorced, and, if there's a child, what happens? -They start in playing battledore-and-shuttlecock with him. Wife -sneaks him from husband. Husband sneaks him back from wife. After -a while along comes a gentleman in my line of business, a -professional at the game, and he puts one across on both the -amateurs. He takes advantage of the confusion, slips in, and gets -away with the kid. That's what has happened here, and I'm going to -show you the way to stop it another time. Now I'll make you a -proposition. What you want to do'--I have never heard anything so -soothing, so suggestive of the old family friend healing an -unfortunate breach, as Sam's voice at this juncture--'what you -want to do is to get together again right quick. Never mind the -past. Let bygones be bygones. Kiss and be friends.' - -A snort from Mr Ford checked him for a moment, but he resumed. - -'I guess there were faults on both sides. Get together and talk it -over. And when you've agreed to call the fight off and start fair -again, that's where I come in. Mr Burns here will tell you, if you -ask him, that I'm anxious to quit this business and marry and -settle down. Well, see here. What you want to do is to give me a -salary--we can talk figures later on--to stay by you and watch -over the kid. Don't snort--I'm talking plain sense. You'd a sight -better have me with you than against you. Set a thief to catch a -thief. What I don't know about the fine points of the game isn't -worth knowing. I'll guarantee, if you put me in charge, to see -that nobody comes within a hundred miles of the kid unless he has -an order-to-view. You'll find I earn every penny of that salary ... -Mr Burns and I will now take a turn up the drive while you think -it over.' - -He linked his arm in mine and drew me away. As we turned the -corner of the drive I caught a glimpse over my shoulder of the -Little Nugget's parents. They were standing where we had left -them, as if Sam's eloquence had rooted them to the spot. - -'Well, well, well, young man,' said Sam, eyeing me affectionately, -'it's pleasant to meet you again, under happier conditions than -last time. You certainly have all the luck, sonny, or you would -have been badly hurt that night. I was getting scared how the -thing would end. Buck's a plain roughneck, and his gang are as bad -as he is, and they had got mighty sore at you, mighty sore. If -they had grabbed you, there's no knowing what might not have -happened. However, all's well that ends well, and this little game -has surely had the happy ending. I shall get that job, sonny. Old -man Ford isn't a fool, and it won't take him long, when he gets to -thinking it over, to see that I'm right. He'll hire me.' - -'Aren't you rather reckoning without your partner?' I said. 'Where -does Buck MacGinnis come in on the deal?' - -Sam patted my shoulder paternally. - -'He doesn't, sonny, he doesn't. It was a shame to do it--it was -like taking candy from a kid--but business is business, and I was -reluctantly compelled to double-cross poor old Buck. I sneaked the -Nugget away from him next day. It's not worth talking about; it -was too easy. Buck's all right in a rough-and-tumble, but when it -comes to brains he gets left, and so he'll go on through life, -poor fellow. I hate to think of it.' - -He sighed. Buck's misfortunes seemed to move him deeply. - -'I shouldn't be surprised if he gave up the profession after this. -He has had enough to discourage him. I told you about what -happened to him that night, didn't I? No? I thought I did. Why, -Buck was the guy who did the Steve Brodie through the roof; and, -when we picked him up, we found he'd broken his leg again! Isn't -that enough to jar a man? I guess he'll retire from the business -after that. He isn't intended for it.' - -We were approaching the two automobiles now, and, looking back, I -saw Mr and Mrs Ford walking up the drive. Sam followed my gaze, -and I heard him chuckle. - -'It's all right,' he said. 'They've fixed it up. Something in the -way they're walking tells me they've fixed it up.' - -Mrs Drassilis was still sitting in the red automobile, looking -piqued but resigned. Mrs Ford addressed her. - -'I shall have to leave you, Mrs Drassilis,' she said. 'Tell Jarvis -to drive you wherever you want to go. I am going with my husband -to see my boy Oggie.' - -She stretched out a hand towards the millionaire. He caught it in -his, and they stood there, smiling foolishly at each other, while -Sam, almost purring, brooded over them like a stout fairy queen. -The two chauffeurs looked on woodenly. - -Mr Ford released his wife's hand and turned to Sam. - -'Fisher.' - -'Sir?' - -'I've been considering your proposition. There's a string tied to -it.' - -'Oh no, sir, I assure you!' - -'There is. What guarantee have I that you won't double-cross me?' - -Sam smiled, relieved. - -'You forget that I told you I was about to be married, sir. My -wife won't let me!' - -Mr Ford waved his hand towards the automobile. - -'Jump in,' he said briefly, 'and tell him where to drive to. -You're engaged!' - - - - -Chapter 18 - - -'No manners!' said Mrs Drassilis. 'None whatever. I always said -so.' - -She spoke bitterly. She was following the automobile with an -offended eye as it moved down the drive. - -The car rounded the corner. Sam turned and waved a farewell. Mr -and Mrs Ford, seated close together in the tonneau, did not even -look round. - -Mrs Drassilis sniffed disgustedly. - -'She's a friend of Cynthia's. Cynthia asked me to come down here -with her to see you. I came, to oblige her. And now, without a -word of apology, she leaves me stranded. She has no manners -whatever.' - -I offered no defence of the absent one. The verdict more or less -squared with my own opinion. - -'Is Cynthia back in England?' I asked, to change the subject. - -'The yacht got back yesterday. Peter, I have something of the -utmost importance to speak to you about.' She glanced at Jarvis -the chauffeur, leaning back in his seat with the air, peculiar to -chauffeurs in repose, of being stuffed. 'Walk down the drive with -me.' - -I helped her out of the car, and we set off in silence. There was -a suppressed excitement in my companion's manner which interested -me, and something furtive which brought back all my old dislike of -her. I could not imagine what she could have to say to me that had -brought her all these miles. - -'How _do_ you come to be down here?' she said. 'When Cynthia -told me you were here, I could hardly believe her. Why are you a -master at this school? I cannot understand it!' - -'What did you want to see me about?' I asked. - -She hesitated. It was always an effort for her to be direct. Now, -apparently, the effort was too great. The next moment she had -rambled off on some tortuous bypath of her own, which, though it -presumably led in the end to her destination, was evidently a long -way round. - -'I have known you for so many years now, Peter, and I don't know of -anybody whose character I admire more. You are so generous--quixotic -in fact. You are one of the few really unselfish men I have ever -met. You are always thinking of other people. Whatever it cost you, -I know you would not hesitate to give up anything if you felt that -it was for someone else's happiness. I do admire you so for it. -One meets so few young men nowadays who consider anybody except -themselves.' - -She paused, either for breath or for fresh ideas, and I took -advantage of the lull in the rain of bouquets to repeat my -question. - -'What _did_ you want to see me about?' I asked patiently. - -'About Cynthia. She asked me to see you.' - -'Oh!' - -'You got a letter from her.' - -'Yes.' - -'Last night, when she came home, she told me about it, and showed -me your answer. It was a beautiful letter, Peter. I'm sure I cried -when I read it. And Cynthia did, I feel certain. Of course, to a -girl of her character that letter was final. She is so loyal, dear -child.' - -'I don't understand.' - -As Sam would have said, she seemed to be speaking; words appeared -to be fluttering from her; but her meaning was beyond me. - -'Once she has given her promise, I am sure nothing would induce -her to break it, whatever her private feelings. She is so loyal. -She has such character.' - -'Would you mind being a little clearer?' I said sharply. 'I really -don't understand what it is you are trying to tell me. What do you -mean about loyalty and character? I don't understand.' - -She was not to be hustled from her bypath. She had chosen her -route, and she meant to travel by it, ignoring short-cuts. - -'To Cynthia, as I say, it was final. She simply could not see that -the matter was not irrevocably settled. I thought it so fine of -her. But I am her mother, and it was my duty not to give in and -accept the situation as inevitable while there was anything I -could do for her happiness. I knew your chivalrous, unselfish -nature, Peter. I could speak to you as Cynthia could not. I could -appeal to your generosity in a way impossible, of course, for her. -I could put the whole facts of the case clearly before you.' - -I snatched at the words. - -'I wish you would. What are they?' - -She rambled off again. - -'She has such a rigid sense of duty. There is no arguing with her. -I told her that, if you knew, you would not dream of standing in -her way. You are so generous, such a true friend, that your only -thought would be for her. If her happiness depended on your -releasing her from her promise, you would not think of yourself. -So in the end I took matters into my own hands and came to see -you. I am truly sorry for you, dear Peter, but to me Cynthia's -happiness, of course, must come before everything. You do -understand, don't you?' - -Gradually, as she was speaking, I had begun to grasp hesitatingly -at her meaning, hesitatingly, because the first hint of it had -stirred me to such a whirl of hope that I feared to risk the shock -of finding that, after all, I had been mistaken. If I were -right--and surely she could mean nothing else--I was free, free -with honour. But I could not live on hints. I must hear this thing -in words. - -'Has--has Cynthia--' I stopped, to steady my voice. 'Has Cynthia -found--' I stopped again. I was finding it absurdly difficult to -frame my sentence. 'Is there someone else?' I concluded with a -rush. - -Mrs Drassilis patted my arm sympathetically. - -'Be brave, Peter!' - -'There is?' - -'Yes.' - -The trees, the drive, the turf, the sky, the birds, the house, the -automobile, and Jarvis, the stuffed chauffeur, leaped together for -an instant in one whirling, dancing mass of which I was the -centre. And then, out of the chaos, as it separated itself once -more into its component parts, I heard my voice saying, 'Tell me.' - -The world was itself again, and I was listening quietly and with a -mild interest which, try as I would, I could not make any -stronger. I had exhausted my emotion on the essential fact: the -details were an anticlimax. - -'I liked him directly I saw him,' said Mrs Drassilis. 'And, of -course, as he was such a friend of yours, we naturally--' - -'A friend of mine?' - -'I am speaking of Lord Mountry.' - -'Mountry? What about him?' Light flooded in on my numbed brain. -'You don't mean--Is it Lord Mountry?' - -My manner must have misled her. She stammered in her eagerness to -dispel what she took to be my misapprehension. - -'Don't think that he acted in anything but the most honourable -manner. Nothing could be farther from the truth. He knew nothing -of Cynthia's engagement to you. She told him when he asked her to -marry him, and he--as a matter of fact, it was he who insisted on -dear Cynthia writing that letter to you.' - -She stopped, apparently staggered by this excursion into honesty. - -'Well?' - -'In fact, he dictated it.' - -'Oh!' - -'Unfortunately, it was quite the wrong sort of letter. It was the -very opposite of clear. It can have given you no inkling of the -real state of affairs.' - -'It certainly did not.' - -'He would not allow her to alter it in any way. He is very -obstinate at times, like so many shy men. And when your answer -came, you see, things were worse than before.' - -'I suppose so.' - -'I could see last night how unhappy they both were. And when -Cynthia suggested it, I agreed at once to come to you and tell you -everything.' - -She looked at me anxiously. From her point of view, this was the -climax, the supreme moment. She hesitated. I seemed to see her -marshalling her forces, the telling sentences, the persuasive -adjectives; rallying them together for the grand assault. - -But through the trees I caught a glimpse of Audrey, walking on the -lawn; and the assault was never made. - -'I will write to Cynthia tonight,' I said, 'wishing her -happiness.' - -'Oh, Peter!' said Mrs Drassilis. - -'Don't mention it,' said I. - -Doubts appeared to mar her perfect contentment. - -'You are sure you can convince her?' - -'Convince her?' - -'And--er--Lord Mountry. He is so determined not to do anything-- -er--what he would call unsportsmanlike.' - -'Perhaps I had better tell her I am going to marry some one else,' -I suggested. - -'I think that would be an excellent idea,' she said, brightening -visibly. 'How clever of you to have thought of it.' - -She permitted herself a truism. - -'After all, dear Peter, there are plenty of nice girls in the -world. You have only to look for them.' - -'You're perfectly right,' I said. 'I'll start at once.' - -A gleam of white caught my eye through the trees by the lawn. I -moved towards it. - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Nugget, by P.G. Wodehouse - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE NUGGET *** - -This file should be named ltngg10.txt or ltngg10.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, ltngg11.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ltngg10a.txt - -Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Tom Allen, Charles Franks -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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Wodehouse - -Posting Date: August 26, 2012 [EBook #6683] -Release Date: October, 2004 -First Posted: January 12, 2003 -[Last updated: June 10, 2022] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE NUGGET *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Tom Allen, Charles Franks -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - - - - - - - - - - - -THE LITTLE NUGGET - - - -By P. G. Wodehouse - - - - - - -Part One - - -In which the Little Nugget is introduced to the reader, and plans -are made for his future by several interested parties. In which, -also, the future Mr Peter Burns is touched upon. The whole concluding -with a momentous telephone-call. - - - -THE LITTLE NUGGET - - - - -I - - -If the management of the Hotel Guelph, that London landmark, could -have been present at three o'clock one afternoon in early January -in the sitting-room of the suite which they had assigned to Mrs -Elmer Ford, late of New York, they might well have felt a little -aggrieved. Philosophers among them would possibly have meditated -on the limitations of human effort; for they had done their best -for Mrs Ford. They had housed her well. They had fed her well. -They had caused inspired servants to anticipate her every need. -Yet here she was, in the midst of all these aids to a contented -mind, exhibiting a restlessness and impatience of her surroundings -that would have been noticeable in a caged tigress or a prisoner -of the Bastille. She paced the room. She sat down, picked up a -novel, dropped it, and, rising, resumed her patrol. The clock -striking, she compared it with her watch, which she had consulted -two minutes before. She opened the locket that hung by a gold -chain from her neck, looked at its contents, and sighed. Finally, -going quickly into the bedroom, she took from a suit-case a framed -oil-painting, and returning with it to the sitting-room, placed it -on a chair, and stepped back, gazing at it hungrily. Her large -brown eyes, normally hard and imperious, were strangely softened. -Her mouth quivered. - -'Ogden!' she whispered. - -The picture which had inspired this exhibition of feeling would -probably not have affected the casual spectator to quite the same -degree. He would have seen merely a very faulty and amateurish -portrait of a singularly repellent little boy of about eleven, who -stared out from the canvas with an expression half stolid, half -querulous; a bulgy, overfed little boy; a little boy who looked -exactly what he was, the spoiled child of parents who had far more -money than was good for them. - -As Mrs Ford gazed at the picture, and the picture stared back at -her, the telephone bell rang. She ran to it eagerly. It was the -office of the hotel, announcing a caller. - -'Yes? Yes? Who?' Her voice fell, as if the name was not the one -she had expected. 'Oh, yes,' she said. 'Yes, ask Lord Mountry to -come to me here, please.' - -She returned to the portrait. The look of impatience, which had -left her face as the bell sounded, was back now. She suppressed it -with an effort as her visitor entered. - -Lord Mountry was a blond, pink-faced, fair-moustached young man of -about twenty-eight--a thick-set, solemn young man. He winced as he -caught sight of the picture, which fixed him with a stony eye -immediately on his entry, and quickly looked away. - -'I say, it's all right, Mrs Ford.' He was of the type which wastes -no time on preliminary greetings. 'I've got him.' - -'Got him!' - -Mrs Ford's voice was startled. - -'Stanborough, you know.' - -'Oh! I--I was thinking of something else. Won't you sit down?' - -Lord Mountry sat down. - -'The artist, you know. You remember you said at lunch the other -day you wanted your little boy's portrait painted, as you only had -one of him, aged eleven--' - -'This is Ogden, Lord Mountry. I painted this myself.' - -His lordship, who had selected a chair that enabled him to present -a shoulder to the painting, and was wearing a slightly dogged look -suggestive of one who 'turns no more his head, because he knows a -frightful fiend doth close behind him tread', forced himself -round, and met his gaze with as much nonchalance as he could -summon up. - -'Er, yes,' he said. - -He paused. - -'Fine manly little fellow--what?' he continued. - -'Yes, isn't he?' - -His lordship stealthily resumed his former position. - -'I recommended this fellow, Stanborough, if you remember. He's a -great pal of mine, and I'd like to give him a leg up if I could. -They tell me he's a topping artist. Don't know much about it -myself. You told me to bring him round here this afternoon, you -remember, to talk things over. He's waiting downstairs.' - -'Oh yes, yes. Of course, I've not forgotten. Thank you so much, -Lord Mountry.' - -'Rather a good scheme occurred to me, that is, if you haven't -thought over the idea of that trip on my yacht and decided it -would bore you to death. You still feel like making one of the -party--what?' - -Mrs Ford shot a swift glance at the clock. - -'I'm looking forward to it,' she said. - -'Well, then, why shouldn't we kill two birds with one stone? -Combine the voyage and the portrait, don't you know. You could -bring your little boy along--he'd love the trip--and I'd bring -Stanborough--what?' - -This offer was not the outcome of a sudden spasm of warm-heartedness -on his lordship's part. He had pondered the matter deeply, and had -come to the conclusion that, though it had flaws, it was the best -plan. He was alive to the fact that a small boy was not an absolute -essential to the success of a yachting trip, and, since seeing -Ogden's portrait, he had realized still more clearly that the -scheme had draw-backs. But he badly wanted Stanborough to make -one of the party. Whatever Ogden might be, there was no doubt that -Billy Stanborough, that fellow of infinite jest, was the ideal -companion for a voyage. It would make just all the difference having -him. The trouble was that Stanborough flatly refused to take an -indefinite holiday, on the plea that he could not afford the time. -Upon which his lordship, seldom blessed with great ideas, had surprised -himself by producing the scheme he had just sketched out to Mrs Ford. - -He looked at her expectantly, as he finished speaking, and was -surprised to see a swift cloud of distress pass over her face. He -rapidly reviewed his last speech. No, nothing to upset anyone in -that. He was puzzled. - -She looked past him at the portrait. There was pain in her eyes. - -'I'm afraid you don't quite understand the position of affairs,' -she said. Her voice was harsh and strained. - -'Eh?' - -'You see--I have not--' She stopped. 'My little boy is not--Ogden -is not living with me just now.' - -'At school, eh?' - -'No, not at school. Let me tell you the whole position. Mr Ford -and I did not get on very well together, and a year ago we were -divorced in Washington, on the ground of incompatibility, -and--and--' - -She choked. His lordship, a young man with a shrinking horror of -the deeper emotions, whether exhibited in woman or man, writhed -silently. That was the worst of these Americans! Always getting -divorced and causing unpleasantness. How was a fellow to know? Why -hadn't whoever it was who first introduced them--he couldn't -remember who the dickens it was--told him about this? He had -supposed she was just the ordinary American woman doing Europe -with an affectionate dollar-dispensing husband in the background -somewhere. - -'Er--' he said. It was all he could find to say. - -'And--and the court,' said Mrs Ford, between her teeth, 'gave him -the custody of Ogden.' - -Lord Mountry, pink with embarrassment, gurgled sympathetically. - -'Since then I have not seen Ogden. That was why I was interested -when you mentioned your friend Mr Stanborough. It struck me that -Mr Ford could hardly object to my having a portrait of my son -painted at my own expense. Nor do I suppose that he will, when--if -the matter is put to him. But, well, you see it would be premature -to make any arrangements at present for having the picture painted -on our yacht trip.' - -'I'm afraid it knocks that scheme on the head,' said Lord Mountry -mournfully. - -'Not necessarily.' - -'Eh?' - -'I don't want to make plans yet, but--it is possible that Ogden -may be with us after all. Something may be--arranged.' - -'You think you may be able to bring him along on the yacht after -all?' - -'I am hoping so.' - -Lord Mountry, however willing to emit sympathetic gurgles, was too -plain and straightforward a young man to approve of wilful -blindness to obvious facts. - -'I don't see how you are going to override the decision of the -court. It holds good in England, I suppose?' - -'I am hoping something may be--arranged.' - -'Oh, same here, same here. Certainly.' Having done his duty by not -allowing plain facts to be ignored, his lordship was ready to -become sympathetic again. 'By the way, where is Ogden?' - -'He is down at Mr Ford's house in the country. But--' - -She was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone bell. She was -out of her seat and across the room at the receiver with what -appeared to Lord Mountry's startled gaze one bound. As she put the -instrument to her ear a wave of joy swept over her face. She gave -a little cry of delight and excitement. - -'Send them right up at once,' she said, and turned to Lord Mountry -transformed. - -'Lord Mountry,' she said quickly, 'please don't think me -impossibly rude if I turn you out. Some--some people are coming to -see me. I must--' - -His lordship rose hurriedly. - -'Of course. Of course. Certainly. Where did I put my--ah, here.' -He seized his hat, and by way of economizing effort, knocked his -stick on to the floor with the same movement. Mrs Ford watched his -bendings and gropings with growing impatience, till finally he -rose, a little flushed but with a full hand--stick, gloves, and -hat, all present and correct. - -'Good-bye, then, Mrs Ford, for the present. You'll let me know if -your little boy will be able to make one of our party on the -yacht?' - -'Yes, yes. Thank you ever so much. Good-bye.' - -'Good-bye.' - -He reached the door and opened it. - -'By Jove,' he said, springing round--'Stanborough! What about -Stanborough? Shall I tell him to wait? He's down below, you know!' - -'Yes, yes. Tell Mr Stanborough I'm dreadfully sorry to have to -keep him waiting, and ask him if he won't stay for a few minutes -in the Palm Room.' - -Inspiration came to Lord Mountry. - -'I'll give him a drink,' he said. - -'Yes, yes, anything. Lord Mountry, you really must go. I know I'm -rude. I don't know what I'm saying. But--my boy is returning to -me.' - -The accumulated chivalry of generations of chivalrous ancestors -acted like a spur on his lordship. He understood but dimly, yet -enough to enable him to realize that a scene was about to take -place in which he was most emphatically not 'on'. A mother's -meeting with her long-lost child, this is a sacred thing. This was -quite clear to him, so, turning like a flash, he bounded through -the doorway, and, as somebody happened to be coming in at the same -time, there was a collision, which left him breathing apologies in -his familiar attitude of stooping to pick up his hat. - -The new-comers were a tall, strikingly handsome girl, with a -rather hard and cynical cast of countenance. She was leading by -the hand a small, fat boy of about fourteen years of age, whose -likeness to the portrait on the chair proclaimed his identity. He -had escaped the collision, but seemed offended by it; for, eyeing -the bending peer with cold distaste, he summed up his opinion of -him in the one word 'Chump!' - -Lord Mountry rose. - -'I beg your pardon,' he said for perhaps the seventh time. He was -thoroughly unstrung. Always excessively shy, he was embarrassed -now by quite a variety of causes. The world was full of eyes--Mrs -Ford's saying 'Go!' Ogden's saying 'Fool!' the portrait saying -'Idiot!' and, finally, the eyes of this wonderfully handsome girl, -large, grey, cool, amused, and contemptuous saying--so it seemed -to him in that feverish moment--'Who is this curious pink person -who cumbers the ground before me?' - -'I--I beg your pardon.' he repeated. - -'Ought to look where you're going,' said Ogden severely. - -'Not at all,' said the girl. 'Won't you introduce me, Nesta?' - -'Lord Mountry--Miss Drassilis,' said Mrs Ford. - -'I'm afraid we're driving Lord Mountry away,' said the girl. Her -eyes seemed to his lordship larger, greyer, cooler, more amused, -and more contemptuous than ever. He floundered in them like an -unskilful swimmer in deep waters. - -'No, no,' he stammered. 'Give you my word. Just going. Good-bye. -You won't forget to let me know about the yacht, Mrs Ford--what? -It'll be an awfully jolly party. Good-bye, good-bye, Miss -Drassilis.' - -He looked at Ogden for an instant, as if undecided whether to take -the liberty of addressing him too, and then, his heart apparently -failing him, turned and bolted. From down the corridor came the -clatter of a dropped stick. - -Cynthia Drassilis closed the door and smiled. - -'A nervous young person!' she said. 'What was he saying about a -yacht, Nesta?' - -Mrs Ford roused herself from her fascinated contemplation of -Ogden. - -'Oh, nothing. Some of us are going to the south of France in his -yacht next week.' - -'What a delightful idea!' - -There was a certain pensive note in Cynthia's voice. - -'A splendid idea!' she murmured. - -Mrs Ford swooped. She descended on Ogden in a swirl and rustle of -expensive millinery, and clasped him to her. - -'My boy!' - -It is not given to everybody to glide neatly into a scene of tense -emotion. Ogden failed to do so. He wriggled roughly from the -embrace. - -'Got a cigarette?' he said. - -He was an extraordinarily unpleasant little boy. Physically the -portrait standing on the chair did him more than justice. Painted -by a mother's loving hand, it flattered him. It was bulgy. He was -more bulgy. It was sullen. He scowled. And, art having its -limitations, particularly amateur art, the portrait gave no hint -of his very repellent manner. He was an intensely sophisticated -child. He had the air of one who has seen all life has to offer, -and is now permanently bored. His speech and bearing were those of -a young man, and a distinctly unlovable young man. - -Even Mrs Ford was momentarily chilled. She laughed shakily. - -'How very matter-of-fact you are, darling!' she said. - -Cynthia was regarding the heir to the Ford millions with her usual -steady, half-contemptuous gaze. - -'He has been that all day,' she said. 'You have no notion what a -help it was to me.' - -Mrs Ford turned to her effusively. - -'Oh, Cynthia, dear, I haven't thanked you.' - -'No,' interpolated the girl dryly. - -'You're a wonder, darling. You really are. I've been repeating -that ever since I got your telegram from Eastnor.' She broke off. -'Ogden, come near me, my little son.' - -He lurched towards her sullenly. - -'Don't muss a fellow now,' he stipulated, before allowing himself -to be enfolded in the outstretched arms. - -'Tell me, Cynthia,' resumed Mrs Ford, 'how did you do it? I was -telling Lord Mountry that I _hoped_ I might see my Ogden again -soon, but I never really hoped. It seemed too impossible that you -should succeed.' - -'This Lord Mountry of yours,' said Cynthia. 'How did you get to -know him? Why have I not seen him before?' - -'I met him in Paris in the fall. He has been out of London for a -long time, looking after his father, who was ill.' - -'I see.' - -'He has been most kind, making arrangements about getting Ogden's -portrait painted. But, bother Lord Mountry. How did we get -sidetracked on to him? Tell me how you got Ogden away.' - -Cynthia yawned. - -'It was extraordinarily easy, as it turned out, you see.' - -'Ogden, darling,' observed Mrs Ford, 'don't go away. I want you -near me.' - -'Oh, all right.' - -'Then stay by me, angel-face.' - -'Oh, slush!' muttered angel-face beneath his breath. 'Say, I'm -darned hungry,' he added. - -It was if an electric shock had been applied to Mrs Ford. She -sprang to her feet. - -'My poor child! Of course you must have some lunch. Ring the bell, -Cynthia. I'll have them send up some here.' - -'I'll have _mine_ here,' said Cynthia. - -'Oh, you've had no lunch either! I was forgetting that.' - -'I thought you were.' - -'You must both lunch here.' - -'Really,' said Cynthia, 'I think it would be better if Ogden had -his downstairs in the restaurant.' - -'Want to talk scandal, eh?' - -'Ogden, _dearest!_' said Mrs Ford. 'Very well, Cynthia. Go, -Ogden. You will order yourself something substantial, marvel-child?' - -'Bet your life,' said the son and heir tersely. - -There was a brief silence as the door closed. Cynthia gazed at her -friend with a peculiar expression. - -'Well, I did it, dear,' she said. - -'Yes. It's splendid. You're a wonder, darling.' - -'Yes,' said Cynthia. - -There was another silence. - -'By the way,' said Mrs Ford, 'didn't you say there was a little -thing, a small bill, that was worrying you?' - -'Did I mention it? Yes, there is. It's rather pressing. In fact, -it's taking up most of the horizon at present. Here it is.' - -'Is it a large sum?' Mrs Ford took the slip of paper and gave a slight -gasp. Then, coming to the bureau, she took out her cheque-book. - -'It's very kind of you, Nesta,' said Cynthia. 'They were beginning -to show quite a vindictive spirit about it.' - -She folded the cheque calmly and put it in her purse. - -'And now tell me how you did it,' said Mrs Ford. - -She dropped into a chair and leaned back, her hands behind her -head. For the first time, she seemed to enjoy perfect peace of -mind. Her eyes half closed, as if she had been making ready to -listen to some favourite music. - -'Tell me from the very beginning,' she said softly. - -Cynthia checked a yawn. - -'Very well, dear,' she said. 'I caught the 10.20 to Eastnor, which -isn't a bad train, if you ever want to go down there. I arrived at -a quarter past twelve, and went straight up to the house--you've -never seen the house, of course? It's quite charming--and told the -butler that I wanted to see Mr Ford on business. I had taken the -precaution to find out that he was not there. He is at Droitwich.' - -'Rheumatism,' murmured Mrs Ford. 'He has it sometimes.' - -'The man told me he was away, and then he seemed to think that I -ought to go. I stuck like a limpet. I sent him to fetch Ogden's -tutor. His name is Broster--Reggie Broster. He is a very nice -young man. Big, broad shoulders, and such a kind face.' - -'Yes, dear, yes?' - -'I told him I was doing a series of drawings for a magazine of the -interiors of well-known country houses.' - -'He believed you?' - -'He believed everything. He's that kind of man. He believed me -when I told him that my editor particularly wanted me to sketch -the staircase. They had told me about the staircase at the inn. I -forget what it is exactly, but it's something rather special in -staircases.' - -'So you got in?' - -'So I got in.' - -'And saw Ogden?' - -'Only for a moment--then Reggie--' - -'Who?' - -'Mr Broster. I always think of him as Reggie. He's one of Nature's -Reggies. _Such_ a kind, honest face. Well, as I was saying, -Reggie discovered that it was time for lessons, and sent Ogden -upstairs.' - -'By himself?' - -'By himself! Reggie and I chatted for a while.' - -Mrs Ford's eyes opened, brown and bright and hard. - -'Mr Broster is not a proper tutor for my boy,' she said coldly. - -'I suppose it was wrong of Reggie,' said Cynthia. 'But--I was -wearing this hat.' - -'Go on.' - -'Well, after a time, I said I must be starting my work. He wanted -me to start with the room we were in. I said no, I was going out -into the grounds to sketch the house from the EAST. I chose the -EAST because it happens to be nearest the railway station. I added -that I supposed he sometimes took Ogden for a little walk in the -grounds. He said yes, he did, and it was just about due. He said -possibly he might come round my way. He said Ogden would be -interested in my sketch. He seemed to think a lot of Ogden's -fondness for art.' - -'Mr Broster is _not_ a proper tutor for my boy.' - -'Well, he isn't your boy's tutor now, is he, dear?' - -'What happened then?' - -'I strolled off with my sketching things. After a while Reggie and -Ogden came up. I said I hadn't been able to work because I had -been frightened by a bull.' - -'Did he believe _that_?' - -'_Certainly_ he believed it. He was most kind and sympathetic. -We had a nice chat. He told me all about himself. He used to be -very good at football. He doesn't play now, but he often thinks of -the past.' - -'But he must have seen that you couldn't sketch. Then what became -of your magazine commission story?' - -'Well, somehow the sketch seemed to get shelved. I didn't even -have to start it. We were having our chat, you see. Reggie was -telling me how good he had been at football when he was at Oxford, -and he wanted me to see a newspaper clipping of a Varsity match he -had played in. I said I'd love to see it. He said it was in his -suit-case in the house. So I promised to look after Ogden while he -fetched it. I sent him off to get it just in time for us to catch -the train. Off he went, and here we are. And now, won't you order -that lunch you mentioned? I'm starving.' - -Mrs Ford rose. Half-way to the telephone she stopped suddenly. - -'My dear child! It has only just struck me! We must leave here at -once. He will have followed you. He will guess that Ogden has been -kidnapped.' - -Cynthia smiled. - -'Believe me, it takes Reggie quite a long time to guess anything. -Besides, there are no trains for hours. We are quite safe.' - -'Are you sure?' - -'Absolutely. I made certain of that before I left.' - -Mrs Ford kissed her impulsively. - -'Oh, Cynthia, you really are wonderful!' - -She started back with a cry as the bell rang sharply. - -'For goodness' sake, Nesta,' said Cynthia, with irritation, 'do -keep control of yourself. There's nothing to be frightened about. -I tell you Mr Broster can't possibly have got here in the time, -even if he knew where to go to, which I don't see how he could. -It's probably Ogden.' - -The colour came back into Mrs Ford's cheeks. - -'Why, of course.' - -Cynthia opened the door. - -'Come in, darling,' said Mrs Ford fondly. And a wiry little man -with grey hair and spectacles entered. - -'Good afternoon, Mrs Ford,' he said. 'I have come to take Ogden -back.' - - - - -II - - -There are some situations in life so unexpected, so trying, that, -as far as concerns our opinion of those subjected to them, we -agree, as it were, not to count them; we refuse to allow the -victim's behaviour in circumstances so exacting to weigh with us -in our estimate of his or her character. We permit the great -general, confronted suddenly with a mad bull, to turn and run, -without forfeiting his reputation for courage. The bishop who, -stepping on a concealed slide in winter, entertains passers-by -with momentary rag-time steps, loses none of his dignity once the -performance is concluded. - -In the same way we must condone the behaviour of Cynthia Drassilis -on opening the door of Mrs Ford's sitting-room and admitting, not -Ogden, but this total stranger, who accompanied his entry with the -remarkable speech recorded at the close of the last section. - -She was a girl who prided herself on her carefully blase' and -supercilious attitude towards life; but this changeling was too -much for her. She released the handle, tottered back, and, having -uttered a discordant squeak of amazement, stood staring, eyes and -mouth wide open. - -On Mrs Ford the apparition had a different effect. The rather -foolish smile of welcome vanished from her face as if wiped away -with a sponge. Her eyes, fixed and frightened like those of a -trapped animal, glared at the intruder. She took a step forward, -choking. - -'What--what do you mean by daring to enter my room?' she cried. - -The man held his ground, unmoved. His bearing was a curious blend -of diffidence and aggressiveness. He was determined, but -apologetic. A hired assassin of the Middle Ages, resolved to do -his job loyally, yet conscious of causing inconvenience to his -victim, might have looked the same. - -'I am sorry,' he said, 'but I must ask you to let me have the boy, -Mrs Ford.' - -Cynthia was herself again now. She raked the intruder with the -cool stare which had so disconcerted Lord Mountry. - -'Who is this gentleman?' she asked languidly. - -The intruder was made of tougher stuff than his lordship. He met -her eye with quiet firmness. - -'My name is Mennick,' he said. 'I am Mr Elmer Ford's private -secretary.' - -'What do you want?' said Mrs Ford. - -'I have already explained what I want, Mrs Ford. I want Ogden.' - -Cynthia raised her eyebrows. - -'What _does_ he mean, Nesta? Ogden is not here.' - -Mr Mennick produced from his breast-pocket a telegraph form, and -in his quiet, business-like way proceeded to straighten it out. - -'I have here,' he said, 'a telegram from Mr Broster, Ogden's -tutor. It was one of the conditions of his engagement that if ever -he was not certain of Ogden's whereabouts he should let me know at -once. He tells me that early this afternoon he left Ogden in the -company of a strange young lady'--Mr Mennick's spectacles flashed -for a moment at Cynthia--'and that, when he returned, both of them -had disappeared. He made inquiries and discovered that this young -lady caught the 1.15 express to London, Ogden with her. On receipt -of this information I at once wired to Mr Ford for instructions. I -have his reply'--he fished for and produced a second telegram--'here.' - -'I still fail to see what brings you here,' said Mrs Ford. 'Owing -to the gross carelessness of his father's employees, my son -appears to have been kidnapped. That is no reason--' - -'I will read Mr Ford's telegram,' proceeded Mr Mennick unmoved. -'It is rather long. I think Mr Ford is somewhat annoyed. "The boy -has obviously been stolen by some hireling of his mother's." I am -reading Mr Ford's actual words,' he said, addressing Cynthia with -that touch of diffidence which had marked his manner since his -entrance. - -'Don't apologize,' said Cynthia, with a short laugh. 'You're not -responsible for Mr Ford's rudeness.' - -Mr Mennick bowed. - -'He continued: "Remove him from her illegal restraint. If -necessary call in police and employ force."' - -'Charming!' said Mrs Ford. - -'Practical,' said Mr Mennick. 'There is more. "Before doing -anything else sack that fool of a tutor, then go to Agency and -have them recommend good private school for boy. On no account -engage another tutor. They make me tired. Fix all this today. Send -Ogden back to Eastnor with Mrs Sheridan. She will stay there with -him till further notice." That is Mr Ford's message.' - -Mr Mennick folded both documents carefully and replaced them in -his pocket. - -Mrs Ford looked at the clock. - -'And now, would you mind going, Mr Mennick?' - -'I am sorry to appear discourteous, Mrs Ford, but I cannot go -without Ogden.' - -'I shall telephone to the office to send up a porter to remove -you.' - -'I shall take advantage of his presence to ask him to fetch a -policeman.' - -In the excitement of combat the veneer of apologetic diffidence -was beginning to wear off Mr Mennick. He spoke irritably. Cynthia -appealed to his reason with the air of a bored princess descending -to argument with a groom. - -'Can't you see for yourself that he's not here?' she said. 'Do you -think we are hiding him?' - -'Perhaps you would like to search my bedroom?' said Mrs Ford, -flinging the door open. - -Mr Mennick remained uncrushed. - -'Quite unnecessary, Mrs Ford. I take it, from the fact that he -does not appear to be in this suite, that he is downstairs making -a late luncheon in the restaurant.' - -'I shall telephone--' - -'And tell them to send him up. Believe me, Mrs Ford, it is the -only thing to do. You have my deepest sympathy, but I am employed -by Mr Ford and must act solely in his interests. The law is on my -side. I am here to fetch Ogden away, and I am going to have him.' - -'You shan't!' - -'I may add that, when I came up here, I left Mrs Sheridan--she is -a fellow-secretary of mine. You may remember Mr Ford mentioning -her in his telegram--I left her to search the restaurant and -grill-room, with instructions to bring Ogden, if found, to me in -this room.' - -The door-bell rang. He went to the door and opened it. - -'Come in, Mrs Sheridan. Ah!' - -A girl in a plain, neat blue dress entered the room. She was a -small, graceful girl of about twenty-five, pretty and brisk, with -the air of one accustomed to look after herself in a difficult -world. Her eyes were clear and steady, her mouth sensitive but -firm, her chin the chin of one who has met trouble and faced it -bravely. A little soldier. - -She was shepherding Ogden before her, a gorged but still sullen -Ogden. He sighted Mr Mennick and stopped. - -'Hello!' he said. 'What have you blown in for?' - -'He was just in the middle of his lunch,' said the girl. 'I -thought you wouldn't mind if I let him finish.' - -'Say, what's it all about, anyway?' demanded Ogden crossly. 'Can't -a fellow have a bit of grub in peace? You give me a pain.' - -Mr Mennick explained. - -'Your father wishes you to return to Eastnor, Ogden.' - -'Oh, all right. I guess I'd better go, then. Good-bye, ma.' - -Mrs Ford choked. - -'Kiss me, Ogden.' - -Ogden submitted to the embrace in sulky silence. The others -comported themselves each after his or her own fashion. Mr Mennick -fingered his chin uncomfortably. Cynthia turned to the table and -picked up an illustrated paper. Mrs Sheridan's eyes filled with -tears. She took a half-step towards Mrs Ford, as if about to -speak, then drew back. - -'Come, Ogden,' said Mr Mennick gruffly. Necessary, this Hired -Assassin work, but painful--devilish painful. He breathed a sigh -of relief as he passed into the corridor with his prize. - -At the door Mrs Sheridan hesitated, stopped, and turned. - -'I'm sorry,' she said impulsively. - -Mrs Ford turned away without speaking, and went into the bedroom. - -Cynthia laid down her paper. - -'One moment, Mrs Sheridan.' - -The girl had turned to go. She stopped. - -'Can you give me a minute? Come in and shut the door. Won't you -sit down? Very well. You seemed sorry for Mrs Ford just now.' - -'I am very sorry for Mrs Ford. Very sorry. I hate to see her -suffering. I wish Mr Mennick had not brought me into this.' - -'Nesta's mad about that boy,' said Cynthia. 'Heaven knows why. -_I_ never saw such a repulsive child in my life. However, -there it is. I am sorry for you. I gathered from what Mr Mennick -said that you were to have a good deal of Ogden's society for some -time to come. How do you feel about it?' - -Mrs Sheridan moved towards the door. - -'I must be going,' she said. 'Mr Mennick will be waiting for me.' - -'One moment. Tell me, don't you think, after what you saw just -now, that Mrs Ford is the proper person to have charge of Ogden? -You see how devoted she is to him?' - -'May I be quite frank with you?' - -'Please.' - -'Well, then, I think that Mrs Ford's influence is the worst -possible for Ogden. I am sorry for her, but that does not alter my -opinion. It is entirely owing to Mrs Ford that Ogden is what he -is. She spoiled him, indulged him in every way, never checked -him--till he has become--well, what you yourself called him, -repulsive.' - -Cynthia laughed. - -'Oh well,' she said, 'I only talked that mother's love stuff -because you looked the sort of girl who would like it. We can drop -all that now, and come down to business.' - -'I don't understand you.' - -'You will. I don't know if you think that I kidnapped Ogden from -sheer affection for Mrs Ford. I like Nesta, but not as much as -that. No. I'm one of the Get-Rich-Quick-Wallingfords, and I'm -looking out for myself all the time. There's no one else to do it -for me. I've a beastly home. My father's dead. My mother's a cat. -So--' - -'Please stop,' said Mrs Sheridan. I don't know why you are telling -me all this.' - -'Yes, you do. I don't know what salary Mr Ford pays you, but I -don't suppose it's anything princely. Why don't you come over to -us? Mrs Ford would give you the earth if you smuggled Ogden back -to her.' - -'You seem to be trying to bribe me,' said Mrs Sheridan. - -'In this case,' said Cynthia, 'appearances aren't deceptive. I -am.' - -'Good afternoon.' - -'Don't be a little fool.' - -The door slammed. - -'Come back!' cried Cynthia. She took a step as if to follow, but -gave up the idea with a laugh. She sat down and began to read her -illustrated paper again. Presently the bedroom door opened. Mrs -Ford came in. She touched her eyes with a handkerchief as she -entered. Cynthia looked up. - -'I'm very sorry, Nesta,' she said. - -Mrs Ford went to the window and looked out. - -'I'm not going to break down, if that's what you mean,' she said. -'I don't care. And, anyhow, it shows that it _can_ be done.' - -Cynthia turned a page of her paper. - -'I've just been trying my hand at bribery and corruption.' - -'What do you mean?' - -'Oh, I promised and vowed many things in your name to that -secretary person, the female one--not Mennick--if she would help -us. Nothing doing. I told her to let us have Ogden as soon as -possible, C.O.D., and she withered me with a glance and went.' - -Mrs Ford shrugged her shoulders impatiently. - -'Oh, let her go. I'm sick of amateurs.' - -'Thank you, dear,' said Cynthia. - -'Oh, I know you did your best. For an amateur you did wonderfully -well. But amateurs never really succeed. There were a dozen little -easy precautions which we neglected to take. What we want is a -professional; a man whose business is kidnapping; the sort of man -who kidnaps as a matter of course; someone like Smooth Sam -Fisher.' - -'My dear Nesta! Who? I don't think I know the gentleman.' - -'He tried to kidnap Ogden in 1906, when we were in New York. At -least, the police put it down to him, though they could prove -nothing. Then there was a horrible man, the police said he was -called Buck MacGinnis. He tried in 1907. That was in Chicago.' - -'Good gracious! Kidnapping Ogden seems to be as popular as -football. And I thought I was a pioneer!' - -Something approaching pride came into Mrs Ford's voice. - -'I don't suppose there's a child in America,' she said, 'who has -had to be so carefully guarded. Why, the kidnappers had a special -name for him--they called him "The Little Nugget". For years we -never allowed him out of our sight without a detective to watch -him.' - -'Well, Mr Ford seems to have changed all that now. I saw no -detectives. I suppose he thinks they aren't necessary in England. -Or perhaps he relied on Mr Broster. Poor Reggie!' - -'It was criminally careless of him. This will be a lesson to him. -He will be more careful in future how he leaves Ogden at the mercy -of anybody who cares to come along and snap him up.' - -'Which, incidentally, does not make your chance of getting him -away any lighter.' - -'Oh, I've given up hope now,' said Mrs Ford resignedly. - -'_I_ haven't,' said Cynthia. - -There was something in her voice which made her companion turn -sharply and look at her. Mrs Ford might affect to be resigned, but -she was a woman of determination, and if the recent reverse had -left her bruised, it had by no means crushed her. - -'Cynthia! What do you mean? What are you hinting?' - -'You despise amateurs, Nesta, but, for all that, it seems that -your professionals who kidnap as a matter of course and all the -rest of it have not been a bit more successful. It was not my want -of experience that made me fail. It was my sex. This is man's -work. If I had been a man, I should at least have had brute force -to fall back upon when Mr Mennick arrived.' - -Mrs Ford nodded. - -'Yes, but--' - -'And,' continued Cynthia, 'as all these Smooth Sam Fishers of -yours have failed too, it is obvious that the only way to kidnap -Ogden is from within. We must have some man working for us in the -enemy's camp.' - -'Which is impossible,' said Mrs Ford dejectedly. - -'Not at all.' - -'You know a man?' - -'I know _the_ man.' - -'Cynthia! What do you mean? Who is he?' - -'His name is Peter Burns.' - -Mrs Ford shook her head. - -'I don't know him.' - -'I'll introduce you. You'll like him.' - -'But, Cynthia, how do you know he would be willing to help us?' - -'He would do it for me,' Cynthia paused. 'You see,' she went on, -'we are engaged to be married.' - -'My dear Cynthia! Why did you not tell me? When did it happen?' - -'Last night at the Fletchers' dance.' - -Mrs Ford's eyes opened. - -'Last night! Were you at a dance last night? And two railway -journeys today! You must be tired to death.' - -'Oh, I'm all right, thanks. I suppose I shall be a wreck and not -fit to be seen tomorrow, but just at present I feel as if nothing -could tire me. It's the effect of being engaged, perhaps.' - -'Tell me about him.' - -'Well, he's rich, and good-looking, and amiable'--Cynthia ticked -off these qualities on her fingers--'and I think he's brave, and -he's certainly not so stupid as Mr Broster.' - -'And you're very much in love with him?' - -'I like him. There's no harm in Peter.' - -'You certainly aren't wildly enthusiastic!' - -'Oh, we shall hit it off quite well together. I needn't pose to -_you_, Nesta, thank goodness! That's one reason why I'm fond -of you. You know how I am situated. I've got to marry some one -rich, and Peter's quite the nicest rich man I've ever met. He's -really wonderfully unselfish. I can't understand it. With his -money, you would expect him to be a perfect horror.' - -A thought seemed to strike Mrs Ford. - -'But, if he's so rich--' she began. 'I forget what I was going to -say,' she broke off. - -'Dear Nesta, I know what you were going to say. If he's so rich, -why should he be marrying me, when he could take his pick of half -London? Well, I'll tell you. He's marrying me for one reason, -because he's sorry for me: for another, because I had the sense to -make him. He didn't think he was going to marry anyone. A few -years ago he had a disappointment. A girl jilted him. She must -have been a fool. He thought he was going to live the rest of his -life alone with his broken heart. I didn't mean to allow that. -It's taken a long time--over two years, from start to finish--but -I've done it. He's a sentimentalist. I worked on his sympathy, and -last night I made him propose to me at the Fletchers' dance.' - -Mrs Ford had not listened to these confidences unmoved. Several -times she had tried to interrupt, but had been brushed aside. Now -she spoke sharply. - -'You know I was not going to say anything of the kind. And I don't -think you should speak in this horrible, cynical way of--of--' - -She stopped, flushing. There were moments when she hated Cynthia. -These occurred for the most part when the latter, as now, stirred -her to an exhibition of honest feeling which she looked on as -rather unbecoming. Mrs Ford had spent twenty years trying to -forget that her husband had married her from behind the counter of -a general store in an Illinois village, and these lapses into the -uncultivated genuineness of her girlhood made her uncomfortable. - -'I wasn't going to say anything of the kind,' she repeated. - -Cynthia was all smiling good-humour. - -'I know. I was only teasing you. "Stringing", they call it in your -country, don't they?' - -Mrs Ford was mollified. - -'I'm sorry, Cynthia. I didn't mean to snap at you. All the -same ...' She hesitated. What she wanted to ask smacked so -dreadfully of Mechanicsville, Illinois. Yet she put the question -bravely, for she was somehow feeling quite troubled about this -unknown Mr Burns. 'Aren't you really fond of him at all, Cynthia?' - -Cynthia beamed. - -'Of course I am! He's a dear. Nothing would make me give him up. -I'm devoted to old Peter. I only told you all that about him -because it shows you how kind-hearted he is. He'll do anything for -me. Well, shall I sound him about Ogden?' - -The magic word took Mrs Ford's mind off the matrimonial future of -Mr Burns, and brought him into prominence in his capacity of -knight-errant. She laughed happily. The contemplation of Mr Burns -as knight-errant healed the sting of defeat. The affair of Mr -Mennick began to appear in the light of a mere skirmish. - -'You take my breath away!' she said. 'How do you propose that Mr -Burns shall help us?' - -'It's perfectly simple. You heard Mr Mennick read that telegram. -Ogden is to be sent to a private school. Peter shall go there -too.' - -'But how? I don't understand. We don't know which school Mr -Mennick will choose.' - -'We can very soon find out.' - -'But how can Mr Burns go there?' - -'Nothing easier. He will be a young man who has been left a little -money and wants to start a school of his own. He goes to Ogden's -man and suggests that he pay a small premium to come to him for a -term as an extra-assistant-master, to learn the business. Mr Man -will jump at him. He will be getting the bargain of his life. -Peter didn't get much of a degree at Oxford, but I believe he was -wonderful at games. From a private-school point of view he's a -treasure.' - -'But--would he do it?' - -'I think I can persuade him.' - -Mrs Ford kissed her with an enthusiasm which hitherto she had -reserved for Ogden. - -'My darling girl,' she cried, 'if you knew how happy you have made -me!' - -'I do,' said Cynthia definitely. 'And now you can do the same for -me.' - -'Anything, anything! You must have some more hats.' - -'I don't want any more hats. I want to go with you on Lord -Mountry's yacht to the Riviera.' - -'Of course,' said Mrs Ford after a slight pause, 'it isn't my -party, you know, dear.' - -'No. But you can work me in, darling.' - -'It's quite a small party. Very quiet.' - -'Crowds bore me. I enjoy quiet.' - -Mrs Ford capitulated. - -'I fancy you are doing me a very good turn,' she said. 'You must -certainly come on the yacht.' - -'I'll tell Peter to come straight round here now,' said Cynthia -simply. She went to the telephone. - - - - - - -Part Two - - -In which other interested parties, notably one Buck MacGinnis and -a trade rival, Smooth Sam Fisher, make other plans for the Nugget's -future. Of stirring times at a private school for young gentlemen. -Of stratagems, spoils, and alarms by night. Of journeys ending in -lovers' meetings. The whole related by Mr Peter Burns, gentleman -of leisure, who forfeits that leisure in a good cause. - - - -Peter Burns's Narrative - - - - -Chapter 1 - - -I - -I am strongly of the opinion that, after the age of twenty-one, a -man ought not to be out of bed and awake at four in the morning. -The hour breeds thought. At twenty-one, life being all future, it -may be examined with impunity. But, at thirty, having become an -uncomfortable mixture of future and past, it is a thing to be -looked at only when the sun is high and the world full of warmth -and optimism. - -This thought came to me as I returned to my rooms after the -Fletchers' ball. The dawn was breaking as I let myself in. The air -was heavy with the peculiar desolation of a London winter morning. -The houses looked dead and untenanted. A cart rumbled past, and -across the grey street a dingy black cat, moving furtively along -the pavement, gave an additional touch of forlornness to the -scene. - -I shivered. I was tired and hungry, and the reaction after the -emotions of the night had left me dispirited. - -I was engaged to be married. An hour back I had proposed to -Cynthia Drassilis. And I can honestly say that it had come as a -great surprise to me. - -Why had I done it? Did I love her? It was so difficult to analyse -love: and perhaps the mere fact that I was attempting the task was -an answer to the question. Certainly I had never tried to do so -five years ago when I had loved Audrey Blake. I had let myself be -carried on from day to day in a sort of trance, content to be -utterly happy, without dissecting my happiness. But I was five -years younger then, and Audrey was--Audrey. - -I must explain Audrey, for she in her turn explains Cynthia. - -I have no illusions regarding my character when I first met Audrey -Blake. Nature had given me the soul of a pig, and circumstances -had conspired to carry on Nature's work. I loved comfort, and I -could afford to have it. From the moment I came of age and -relieved my trustees of the care of my money, I wrapped myself in -comfort as in a garment. I wallowed in egoism. In fact, if, -between my twenty-first and my twenty-fifth birthdays, I had one -unselfish thought, or did one genuinely unselfish action, my -memory is a blank on the point. - -It was at the height of this period that I became engaged to -Audrey. Now that I can understand her better and see myself, -impartially, as I was in those days, I can realize how indescribably -offensive I must have been. My love was real, but that did not -prevent its patronizing complacency being an insult. I was King -Cophetua. If I did not actually say in so many words, 'This -beggar-maid shall be my queen', I said it plainly and often in my -manner. She was the daughter of a dissolute, evil-tempered artist -whom I had met at a Bohemian club. He made a living by painting -an occasional picture, illustrating an occasional magazine-story, -but mainly by doing advertisement work. A proprietor of a patent -Infants' Food, not satisfied with the bare statement that Baby -Cried For It, would feel it necessary to push the fact home to the -public through the medium of Art, and Mr Blake would be commissioned -to draw the picture. A good many specimens of his work in this vein -were to be found in the back pages of the magazines. - -A man may make a living by these means, but it is one that -inclines him to jump at a wealthy son-in-law. Mr Blake jumped at -me. It was one of his last acts on this earth. A week after he -had--as I now suspect--bullied Audrey into accepting me, he died -of pneumonia. - -His death had several results. It postponed the wedding: it -stirred me to a very crescendo of patronage, for with the removal -of the bread-winner the only flaw in my Cophetua pose had -vanished: and it gave Audrey a great deal more scope than she had -hitherto been granted for the exercise of free will in the choice -of a husband. - -This last aspect of the matter was speedily brought to my notice, -which till then it had escaped, by a letter from her, handed to me -one night at the club, where I was sipping coffee and musing on -the excellence of life in this best of all possible worlds. - -It was brief and to the point. She had been married that morning. - -To say that that moment was a turning point in my life would be to -use a ridiculously inadequate phrase. It dynamited my life. In a -sense it killed me. The man I had been died that night, regretted, -I imagine, by few. Whatever I am today, I am certainly not the -complacent spectator of life that I had been before that night. - -I crushed the letter in my hand, and sat staring at it, my pigsty -in ruins about my ears, face to face with the fact that, even in a -best of all possible worlds, money will not buy everything. - -I remember, as I sat there, a man, a club acquaintance, a bore -from whom I had fled many a time, came and settled down beside me -and began to talk. He was a small man, but he possessed a voice to -which one had to listen. He talked and talked and talked. How I -loathed him, as I sat trying to think through his stream of words. -I see now that he saved me. He forced me out of myself. But at the -time he oppressed me. I was raw and bleeding. I was struggling to -grasp the incredible. I had taken Audrey's unalterable affection -for granted. She was the natural complement to my scheme of -comfort. I wanted her; I had chosen and was satisfied with her, -therefore all was well. And now I had to adjust my mind to the -impossible fact that I had lost her. - -Her letter was a mirror in which I saw myself. She said little, -but I understood, and my self-satisfaction was in ribbons--and -something deeper than self-satisfaction. I saw now that I loved -her as I had not dreamed myself capable of loving. - -And all the while this man talked and talked. - -I have a theory that speech, persevered in, is more efficacious in -times of trouble than silent sympathy. Up to a certain point it -maddens almost beyond endurance; but, that point past, it soothes. -At least, it was so in my case. Gradually I found myself hating -him less. Soon I began to listen, then to answer. Before I left -the club that night, the first mad frenzy, in which I could have -been capable of anything, had gone from me, and I walked home, -feeling curiously weak and helpless, but calm, to begin the new -life. - -Three years passed before I met Cynthia. I spent those years -wandering in many countries. At last, as one is apt to do, I -drifted back to London, and settled down again to a life which, -superficially, was much the same as the one I had led in the days -before I knew Audrey. My old circle in London had been wide, and I -found it easy to pick up dropped threads. I made new friends, -among them Cynthia Drassilis. - -I liked Cynthia, and I was sorry for her. I think that, about that -time I met her, I was sorry for most people. The shock of Audrey's -departure had had that effect upon me. It is always the bad nigger -who gets religion most strongly at the camp-meeting, and in my -case 'getting religion' had taken the form of suppression of self. -I never have been able to do things by halves, or even with a -decent moderation. As an egoist I had been thorough in my egoism; -and now, fate having bludgeoned that vice out of me, I found -myself possessed of an almost morbid sympathy with the troubles of -other people. - -I was extremely sorry for Cynthia Drassilis. Meeting her mother -frequently, I could hardly fail to be. Mrs Drassilis was a -representative of a type I disliked. She was a widow, who had been -left with what she considered insufficient means, and her outlook -on life was a compound of greed and querulousness. Sloane Square -and South Kensington are full of women in her situation. Their -position resembles that of the Ancient Mariner. 'Water, water -everywhere, and not a drop to drink.' For 'water' in their case -substitute 'money'. Mrs Drassilis was connected with money on all -sides, but could only obtain it in rare and minute quantities. Any -one of a dozen relations-in-law could, if they had wished, have -trebled her annual income without feeling it. But they did not so -wish. They disapproved of Mrs Drassilis. In their opinion the Hon. -Hugo Drassilis had married beneath him--not so far beneath him as -to make the thing a horror to be avoided in conversation and -thought, but far enough to render them coldly polite to his wife -during his lifetime and almost icy to his widow after his death. -Hugo's eldest brother, the Earl of Westbourne, had never liked the -obviously beautiful, but equally obviously second-rate, daughter -of a provincial solicitor whom Hugo had suddenly presented to the -family one memorable summer as his bride. He considered that, by -doubling the income derived from Hugo's life-insurance and -inviting Cynthia to the family seat once a year during her -childhood, he had done all that could be expected of him in the -matter. - -He had not. Mrs Drassilis expected a great deal more of him, the -non-receipt of which had spoiled her temper, her looks, and the -peace of mind of all who had anything much to do with her. - -It used to irritate me when I overheard people, as I occasionally -have done, speak of Cynthia as hard. I never found her so myself, -though heaven knows she had enough to make her so, to me she was -always a sympathetic, charming friend. - -Ours was a friendship almost untouched by sex. Our minds fitted so -smoothly into one another that I had no inclination to fall in -love. I knew her too well. I had no discoveries to make about her. -Her honest, simple soul had always been open to me to read. There -was none of that curiosity, that sense of something beyond that -makes for love. We had reached a point of comradeship beyond which -neither of us desired to pass. - -Yet at the Fletchers' ball I asked Cynthia to marry me, and she -consented. - - * * * * * - -Looking back, I can see that, though the determining cause was Mr -Tankerville Gifford, it was Audrey who was responsible. She had -made me human, capable of sympathy, and it was sympathy, -primarily, that led me to say what I said that night. - -But the immediate cause was certainly young Mr Gifford. - -I arrived at Marlow Square, where I was to pick up Cynthia and her -mother, a little late, and found Mrs Drassilis, florid and -overdressed, in the drawing-room with a sleek-haired, pale young -man known to me as Tankerville Gifford--to his intimates, of whom -I was not one, and in the personal paragraphs of the coloured -sporting weeklies, as 'Tanky'. I had seen him frequently at -restaurants. Once, at the Empire, somebody had introduced me to -him; but, as he had not been sober at the moment, he had missed -any intellectual pleasure my acquaintanceship might have afforded -him. Like everybody else who moves about in London, I knew all -about him. To sum him up, he was a most unspeakable little cad, -and, if the drawing-room had not been Mrs Drassilis's, I should -have wondered at finding him in it. - -Mrs Drassilis introduced us. - -'I think we have already met,' I said. - -He stared glassily. - -'Don't remember.' - -I was not surprised. - -At this moment Cynthia came in. Out of the corner of my eye I -observed a look of fuddled displeasure come into Tanky's face at -her frank pleasure at seeing me. - -I had never seen her looking better. She is a tall girl, who -carries herself magnificently. The simplicity of her dress gained -an added dignity from comparison with the rank glitter of her -mother's. She wore unrelieved black, a colour which set off to -wonderful advantage the clear white of her skin and her pale-gold -hair. - -'You're late, Peter,' she said, looking at the clock. - -'I know. I'm sorry.' - -'Better be pushing, what?' suggested Tanky. - -'My cab's waiting.' - -'Will you ring the bell, Mr Gifford?' said Mrs Drassilis. 'I will -tell Parker to whistle for another.' - -'Take me in yours,' I heard a voice whisper in my ear. - -I looked at Cynthia. Her expression had not changed. Then I looked -at Tanky Gifford, and I understood. I had seen that stuffed-fish -look on his face before--on the occasion when I had been -introduced to him at the Empire. - -'If you and Mr Gifford will take my cab,' I said to Mrs Drassilis, -'we will follow.' - -Mrs Drassilis blocked the motion. I imagine that the sharp note in -her voice was lost on Tanky, but it rang out like a clarion to me. - -'I am in no hurry,' she said. 'Mr Gifford, will you take Cynthia? -I will follow with Mr Burns. You will meet Parker on the stairs. -Tell him to call another cab.' - -As the door closed behind them, she turned on me like a many-coloured -snake. - -'How can you be so extraordinarily tactless, Peter?' she cried. -'You're a perfect fool. Have you no eyes?' - -'I'm sorry,' I said. - -'He's devoted to her.' - -'I'm sorry.' - -'What do you mean?' - -'Sorry for her.' - -She seemed to draw herself together inside her dress. Her eyes -glittered. My mouth felt very dry, and my heart was beginning to -thump. We were both furiously angry. It was a moment that had been -coming for years, and we both knew it. For my part I was glad that -it had come. On subjects on which one feels deeply it is a relief -to speak one's mind. - -'Oh!' she said at last. Her voice quivered. She was clutching at -her self-control as it slipped from her. 'Oh! And what is my -daughter to you, Mr Burns!' - -'A great friend.' - -'And I suppose you think it friendly to try to spoil her chances?' - -'If Mr Gifford is a sample of them--yes.' - -'What do you mean?' - -She choked. - -'I see. I understand. I am going to put a stop to this once and -for all. Do you hear? I have noticed it for a long time. Because I -have given you the run of the house, and allowed you to come in -and out as you pleased, like a tame cat, you presume--' - -'Presume--' I prompted. - -'You come here and stand in Cynthia's way. You trade on the fact -that you have known us all this time to monopolize her attention. -You spoil her chances. You--' - -The invaluable Parker entered to say that the cab was at the door. - -We drove to the Fletchers' house in silence. The spell had been -broken. Neither of us could recapture that first, fine, careless -rapture which had carried us through the opening stages of the -conflict, and discussion of the subject on a less exalted plane -was impossible. It was that blessed period of calm, the rest -between rounds, and we observed it to the full. - -When I reached the ballroom a waltz was just finishing. Cynthia, a -statue in black, was dancing with Tanky Gifford. They were -opposite me when the music stopped, and she caught sight of me -over his shoulder. - -She disengaged herself and moved quickly towards me. - -'Take me away,' she said under her breath. 'Anywhere. Quick.' - -It was no time to consider the etiquette of the ballroom. Tanky, -startled at his sudden loneliness, seemed by his expression to be -endeavouring to bring his mind to bear on the matter. A couple -making for the door cut us off from him, and following them, we -passed out. - -Neither of us spoke till we had reached the little room where I -had meditated. - -She sat down. She was looking pale and tired. - -'Oh, dear!' she said. - -I understood. I seemed to see that journey in the cab, those -dances, those terrible between-dances ... - -It was very sudden. - -I took her hand. She turned to me with a tired smile. There were -tears in her eyes ... - -I heard myself speaking ... - -She was looking at me, her eyes shining. All the weariness seemed -to have gone out of them. - -I looked at her. - -There was something missing. I had felt it when I was speaking. To -me my voice had had no ring of conviction. And then I saw what it -was. There was no mystery. We knew each other too well. Friendship -kills love. - -She put my thought into words. - -'We have always been brother and sister,' she said doubtfully. - -'Till tonight.' - -'You have changed tonight? You really want me?' - -Did I? I tried to put the question to myself and answer it -honestly. Yes, in a sense, I had changed tonight. There was an -added appreciation of her fineness, a quickening of that blend of -admiration and pity which I had always felt for her. I wanted with -all my heart to help her, to take her away from her dreadful -surroundings, to make her happy. But did I want her in the sense -in which she had used the word? Did I want her as I had wanted -Audrey Blake? I winced away from the question. Audrey belonged to -the dead past, but it hurt to think of her. - -Was it merely because I was five years older now than when I had -wanted Audrey that the fire had gone out of me? - -I shut my mind against my doubts. - -'I have changed tonight,' I said. - -And I bent down and kissed her. - -I was conscious of being defiant against somebody. And then I knew -that the somebody was myself. - -I poured myself out a cup of hot coffee from the flask which -Smith, my man, had filled against my return. It put life into me. -The oppression lifted. - -And yet there remained something that made for uneasiness, a sort -of foreboding at the back of my mind. - -I had taken a step in the dark, and I was afraid for Cynthia. I -had undertaken to give her happiness. Was I certain that I could -succeed? The glow of chivalry had left me, and I began to doubt. - -Audrey had taken from me something that I could not recover--poetry -was as near as I could get to a definition of it. Yes, poetry. -With Cynthia my feet would always be on the solid earth. To the -end of the chapter we should be friends and nothing more. - -I found myself pitying Cynthia intensely. I saw her future a -series of years of intolerable dullness. She was too good to be -tied for life to a battered hulk like myself. - -I drank more coffee and my mood changed. Even in the grey of a -winter morning a man of thirty, in excellent health, cannot pose -to himself for long as a piece of human junk, especially if he -comforts himself with hot coffee. - -My mind resumed its balance. I laughed at myself as a sentimental -fraud. Of course I could make her happy. No man and woman had ever -been more admirably suited to each other. As for that first -disaster, which I had been magnifying into a life-tragedy, what of -it? An incident of my boyhood. A ridiculous episode which--I rose -with the intention of doing so at once--I should now proceed to -eliminate from my life. - -I went quickly to my desk, unlocked it, and took out a photograph. - -And then--undoubtedly four o'clock in the morning is no time for a -man to try to be single-minded and decisive--I wavered. I had -intended to tear the thing in pieces without a glance, and fling -it into the wastepaper-basket. But I took the glance and I -hesitated. - -The girl in the photograph was small and slight, and she looked -straight out of the picture with large eyes that met and -challenged mine. How well I remembered them, those Irish-blue eyes -under their expressive, rather heavy brows. How exactly the -photographer had caught that half-wistful, half-impudent look, the -chin tilted, the mouth curving into a smile. - -In a wave all my doubts had surged back upon me. Was this mere -sentimentalism, a four-in-the-morning tribute to the pathos of the -flying years, or did she really fill my soul and stand guard over -it so that no successor could enter in and usurp her place? - -I had no answer, unless the fact that I replaced the photograph in -its drawer was one. I felt that this thing could not be decided -now. It was more difficult than I had thought. - -All my gloom had returned by the time I was in bed. Hours seemed -to pass while I tossed restlessly aching for sleep. - -When I woke my last coherent thought was still clear in my mind. -It was a passionate vow that, come what might, if those Irish eyes -were to haunt me till my death, I would play the game loyally with -Cynthia. - - -II - -The telephone bell rang just as I was getting ready to call at -Marlow Square and inform Mrs Drassilis of the position of affairs. -Cynthia, I imagined, would have broken the news already, which -would mitigate the embarrassment of the interview to some extent; -but the recollection of my last night's encounter with Mrs -Drassilis prevented me from looking forward with any joy to the -prospect of meeting her again. - -Cynthia's voice greeted me as I unhooked the receiver. - -'Hullo, Peter! Is that you? I want you to come round here at -once.' - -'I was just starting,' I said. - -'I don't mean Marlow Square. I'm not there. I'm at the Guelph. Ask -for Mrs Ford's suite. It's very important. I'll tell you all about -it when you get here. Come as soon as you can.' - -My rooms were conveniently situated for visits to the Hotel -Guelph. A walk of a couple of minutes took me there. Mrs Ford's -suite was on the third floor. I rang the bell and Cynthia opened -the door to me. - -'Come in,' she said. 'You're a dear to be so quick.' - -'My rooms are only just round the corner.' She shut the door, and -for the first time we looked at one another. I could not say that -I was nervous, but there was certainly, to me, a something strange -in the atmosphere. Last night seemed a long way off and somehow a -little unreal. I suppose I must have shown this in my manner, for -she suddenly broke what had amounted to a distinct pause by giving -a little laugh. 'Peter,' she said, 'you're embarrassed.' I denied -the charge warmly, but without real conviction. I was embarrassed. -'Then you ought to be,' she said. 'Last night, when I was looking -my very best in a lovely dress, you asked me to marry you. Now you -see me again in cold blood, and you're wondering how you can back -out of it without hurting my feelings.' - -I smiled. She did not. I ceased to smile. She was looking at me in -a very peculiar manner. - -'Peter,' she said, 'are you sure?' - -'My dear old Cynthia,' I said, 'what's the matter with you?' - -'You are sure?' she persisted. - -'Absolutely, entirely sure.' I had a vision of two large eyes -looking at me out of a photograph. It came and went in a flash. - -I kissed Cynthia. - -'What quantities of hair you have,' I said. 'It's a shame to cover -it up.' She was not responsive. 'You're in a very queer mood -today, Cynthia,' I went on. 'What's the matter?' - -'I've been thinking.' - -'Out with it. Something has gone wrong.' An idea flashed upon me. -'Er--has your mother--is your mother very angry about--' - -'Mother's delighted. She always liked you, Peter.' - -I had the self-restraint to check a grin. - -'Then what is it?' I said. 'Tired after the dance?' - -'Nothing as simple as that.' - -'Tell me.' - -'It's so difficult to put it into words.' - -'Try.' - -She was playing with the papers on the table, her face turned -away. For a moment she did not speak. - -'I've been worrying myself, Peter,' she said at last. 'You are so -chivalrous and unselfish. You're quixotic. It's that that is -troubling me. Are you marrying me just because you're sorry for -me? Don't speak. I can tell you now if you will just let me say -straight out what's in my mind. We have known each other for two -years now. You know all about me. You know how--how unhappy I am -at home. Are you marrying me just because you pity me and want to -take me out of all that?' - -'My dear girl!' - -'You haven't answered my question.' - -'I answered it two minutes ago when you asked me if--' - -'You do love me?' - -'Yes.' - -All this time she had been keeping her face averted, but now she -turned and looked into my eyes with an abrupt intensity which, I -confess, startled me. Her words startled me more. - -'Peter, do you love me as much as you loved Audrey Blake?' - -In the instant which divided her words from my reply my mind flew -hither and thither, trying to recall an occasion when I could have -mentioned Audrey to her. I was convinced that I had not done so. I -never mentioned Audrey to anyone. - -There is a grain of superstition in the most level-headed man. I -am not particularly level-headed, and I have more than a grain in -me. I was shaken. Ever since I had asked Cynthia to marry me, it -seemed as if the ghost of Audrey had come back into my life. - -'Good Lord!' I cried. 'What do you know of Audrey Blake?' - -She turned her face away again. - -'Her name seems to affect you very strongly,' she said quietly. - -I recovered myself. - -'If you ask an old soldier,' I said, 'he will tell you that a -wound, long after it has healed, is apt to give you an occasional -twinge.' - -'Not if it has really healed.' - -'Yes, when it has really healed--when you can hardly remember how -you were fool enough to get it.' - -She said nothing. - -'How did you hear about--it?' I asked. - -'When I first met you, or soon after, a friend of yours--we -happened to be talking about you--told me that you had been engaged -to be married to a girl named Audrey Blake. He was to have been -your best man, he said, but one day you wrote and told him there -would be no wedding, and then you disappeared; and nobody saw you -again for three years.' - -'Yes,' I said: 'that is all quite true.' - -'It seems to have been a serious affair, Peter. I mean--the sort -of thing a man would find it hard to forget.' - -I tried to smile, but I knew that I was not doing it well. It was -hurting me extraordinarily, this discussion of Audrey. - -'A man would find it almost impossible,' I said, 'unless he had a -remarkably poor memory.' - -'I didn't mean that. You know what I mean by forget.' - -'Yes,' I said, 'I do.' - -She came quickly to me and took me by the shoulders, looking into -my face. - -'Peter, can you honestly say you have forgotten her--in the sense -I mean?' - -'Yes,' I said. - -Again that feeling swept over me--that curious sensation of being -defiant against myself. - -'She does not stand between us?' - -'No,' I said. - -I could feel the effort behind the word. It was as if some -subconscious part of me were working to keep it back. - -'Peter!' - -There was a soft smile on her face; as she raised it to mine I put -my arms around her. - -She drew away with a little laugh. Her whole manner had changed. -She was a different being from the girl who had looked so gravely -into my eyes a moment before. - -'Oh, my dear boy, how terribly muscular you are! You've crushed -me. I expect you used to be splendid at football, like Mr -Broster.' - -I did not reply at once. I cannot wrap up the deeper emotions and -put them back on their shelf directly I have no further immediate -use for them. I slowly adjusted myself to the new key of the -conversation. - -'Who's Broster?' I asked at length. - -'He used to be tutor to'--she turned me round and pointed--'to -_that_.' - -I had seen a picture standing on one of the chairs when I entered -the room but had taken no particular notice of it. I now gave it a -closer glance. It was a portrait, very crudely done, of a -singularly repulsive child of about ten or eleven years old. - -_Was_ he, poor chap! Well, we all have our troubles, don't -we! Who _is_ this young thug! Not a friend of yours, I hope?' - -'That is Ogden, Mrs Ford's son. It's a tragedy--' - -'Perhaps it doesn't do him justice. Does he really squint like -that, or is it just the artist's imagination?' - -'Don't make fun of it. It's the loss of that boy that is breaking -Nesta's heart.' - -I was shocked. - -'Is he dead? I'm awfully sorry. I wouldn't for the world--' - -'No, no. He is alive and well. But he is dead to her. The court -gave him into the custody of his father.' - -'The court?' - -'Mrs Ford was the wife of Elmer Ford, the American millionaire. -They were divorced a year ago.' - -'I see.' - -Cynthia was gazing at the portrait. - -'This boy is quite a celebrity in his way,' she said. 'They call -him "The Little Nugget" in America.' - -'Oh! Why is that?' - -'It's a nickname the kidnappers have for him. Ever so many -attempts have been made to steal him.' - -She stopped and looked at me oddly. - -'I made one today, Peter,' she said. I went down to the country, -where the boy was, and kidnapped him.' - -'Cynthia! What on earth do you mean?' - -'Don't you understand? I did it for Nesta's sake. She was breaking -her heart about not being able to see him, so I slipped down and -stole him away, and brought him back here.' - -I do not know if I was looking as amazed as I felt. I hope not, -for I felt as if my brain were giving way. The perfect calmness -with which she spoke of this extraordinary freak added to my -confusion. - -'You're joking!' - -'No; I stole him.' - -'But, good heavens! The law! It's a penal offence, you know!' - -'Well, I did it. Men like Elmer Ford aren't fit to have charge of -a child. You don't know him, but he's just an unscrupulous -financier, without a thought above money. To think of a boy -growing up in that tainted atmosphere--at his most impressionable -age. It means death to any good there is in him.' - -My mind was still grappling feebly with the legal aspect of the -affair. - -'But, Cynthia, kidnapping's kidnapping, you know! The law doesn't -take any notice of motives. If you're caught--' - -She cut through my babble. - -'Would you have been afraid to do it, Peter?' - -'Well--' I began. I had not considered the point before. - -'I don't believe you would. If I asked you to do it for my sake--' - -'But, Cynthia, kidnapping, you know! It's such an infernally low-down -game.' - -'I played it. Do you despise _me_?' - -I perspired. I could think of no other reply. - -'Peter,' she said, 'I understand your scruples. I know exactly how -you feel. But can't you see that this is quite different from the -sort of kidnapping you naturally look on as horrible? It's just -taking a boy away from surroundings that must harm him, back to -his mother, who worships him. It's not wrong. It's splendid.' - -She paused. - -'You _will_ do it for me, Peter?' she said. - -'I don't understand,' I said feebly. 'It's done. You've kidnapped -him yourself.' - -'They tracked him and took him back. And now I want _you_ to -try.' She came closer to me. 'Peter, don't you see what it will -mean to me if you agree to try? I'm only human, I can't help, at -the bottom of my heart, still being a little jealous of this -Audrey Blake. No, don't say anything. Words can't cure me; but if -you do this thing for me, I shall be satisfied. I shall _know_.' - -She was close beside me, holding my arm and looking into my face. -That sense of the unreality of things which had haunted me since -that moment at the dance came over me with renewed intensity. Life -had ceased to be a rather grey, orderly business in which day -succeeded day calmly and without event. Its steady stream had -broken up into rapids, and I was being whirled away on them. - -'Will you do it, Peter? Say you will.' - -A voice, presumably mine, answered 'Yes'. - -'My dear old boy!' - -She pushed me into a chair, and, sitting on the arm of it, laid -her hand on mine and became of a sudden wondrously business-like. - -'Listen,' she said, 'I'll tell you what we have arranged.' - -It was borne in upon me, as she began to do so, that she appeared -from the very beginning to have been extremely confident that that -essential part of her plans, my consent to the scheme, could be -relied upon as something of a certainty. Women have these -intuitions. - - -III - -Looking back, I think I can fix the point at which this insane -venture I had undertaken ceased to be a distorted dream, from -which I vaguely hoped that I might shortly waken, and took shape -as a reality of the immediate future. That moment came when I met -Mr Arnold Abney by appointment at his club. - -Till then the whole enterprise had been visionary. I gathered from -Cynthia that the boy Ogden was shortly to be sent to a preparatory -school, and that I was to insinuate myself into this school and, -watching my opportunity, to remove him; but it seemed to me that -the obstacles to this comparatively lucid scheme were insuperable. -In the first place, how were we to discover which of England's -million preparatory schools Mr Ford, or Mr Mennick for him, would -choose? Secondly, the plot which was to carry me triumphantly into -this school when--or if--found, struck me as extremely thin. I -was to pose, Cynthia told me, as a young man of private means, -anxious to learn the business, with a view to setting up a school -of his own. The objection to that was, I held, that I obviously -did not want to do anything of the sort. I had not the appearance -of a man with such an ambition. I had none of the conversation of -such a man. - -I put it to Cynthia. - -'They would find me out in a day,' I assured her. 'A man who wants -to set up a school has got to be a pretty brainy sort of fellow. I -don't know anything.' - -'You got your degree.' - -'A degree. At any rate, I've forgotten all I knew.' - -'That doesn't matter. You have the money. Anybody with money can -start a school, even if he doesn't know a thing. Nobody would -think it strange.' - -It struck me as a monstrous slur on our educational system, but -reflection told me it was true. The proprietor of a preparatory -school, if he is a man of wealth, need not be able to teach, any -more than an impresario need be able to write plays. - -'Well, we'll pass that for the moment,' I said. 'Here's the real -difficulty. How are you going to find out the school Mr Ford has -chosen?' - -'I have found it out already--or Nesta has. She set a detective to -work. It was perfectly easy. Ogden's going to Mr Abney's. Sanstead -House is the name of the place. It's in Hampshire somewhere. Quite -a small school, but full of little dukes and earls and things. -Lord Mountry's younger brother, Augustus Beckford, is there.' - -I had known Lord Mountry and his family well some years ago. I -remembered Augustus dimly. - -'Mountry? Do you know him? He was up at Oxford with me.' - -She seemed interested. - -'What kind of a man is he?' she asked. - -'Oh, quite a good sort. Rather an ass. I haven't seen him for -years.' - -'He's a friend of Nesta's. I've only met him once. He is going to -be your reference.' - -'My what?' - -'You will need a reference. At least, I suppose you will. And, -anyhow, if you say you know Lord Mountry it will make it simpler -for you with Mr Abney, the brother being at the school.' - -'Does Mountry know about this business? Have you told him why I -want to go to Abney's?' - -'Nesta told him. He thought it was very sporting of you. He will -tell Mr Abney anything we like. By the way, Peter, you will have -to pay a premium or something, I suppose. But Nesta will look -after all expenses, of course.' - -On this point I made my only stand of the afternoon. - -'No,' I said; 'it's very kind of her, but this is going to be -entirely an amateur performance. I'm doing this for you, and I'll -stand the racket. Good heavens! Fancy taking money for a job of -this kind!' - -She looked at me rather oddly. - -'That is very sweet of you, Peter,' she said, after a slight -pause. 'Now let's get to work.' - -And together we composed the letter which led to my sitting, two -days later, in stately conference at his club with Mr Arnold -Abney, M.A., of Sanstead House, Hampshire. - -Mr Abney proved to be a long, suave, benevolent man with an Oxford -manner, a high forehead, thin white hands, a cooing intonation, -and a general air of hushed importance, as of one in constant -communication with the Great. There was in his bearing something -of the family solicitor in whom dukes confide, and something of -the private chaplain at the Castle. - -He gave me the key-note to his character in the first minute of -our acquaintanceship. We had seated ourselves at a table in the -smoking-room when an elderly gentleman shuffled past, giving a nod -in transit. My companion sprang to his feet almost convulsively, -returned the salutation, and subsided slowly into his chair again. - -'The Duke of Devizes,' he said in an undertone. 'A most able man. -Most able. His nephew, Lord Ronald Stokeshaye, was one of my -pupils. A charming boy.' - -I gathered that the old feudal spirit still glowed to some extent -in Mr Abney's bosom. - -We came to business. - -'So you wish to be one of us, Mr Burns, to enter the scholastic -profession?' - -I tried to look as if I did. - -'Well, in certain circumstances, the circumstances in which -I--ah--myself, I may say, am situated, there is no more delightful -occupation. The work is interesting. There is the constant -fascination of seeing these fresh young lives develop--and of -helping them to develop--under one's eyes; in any case, I may say, -there is the exceptional interest of being in a position to mould -the growing minds of lads who will some day take their place among -the country's hereditary legislators, that little knot of devoted -men who, despite the vulgar attacks of loudmouthed demagogues, -still do their share, and more, in the guidance of England's -fortunes. Yes.' - -He paused. I said I thought so, too. - -'You are an Oxford man, Mr Burns, I think you told me? Ah, I have -your letter here. Just so. You were at--ah, yes. A fine college. -The Dean is a lifelong friend of mine. Perhaps you knew my late -pupil, Lord Rollo?--no, he would have been since your time. A -delightful boy. Quite delightful ... And you took your degree? -Exactly. _And_ represented the university at both cricket and -Rugby football? Excellent. _Mens sana in_--ah--_corpore_, in fact, -_sano_, yes!' - -He folded the letter carefully and replaced it in his pocket. - -'Your primary object in coming to me, Mr Burns, is, I gather, to -learn the--ah--the ropes, the business? You have had little or no -previous experience of school-mastering?' - -'None whatever.' - -'Then your best plan would undoubtedly be to consider yourself and -work for a time simply as an ordinary assistant-master. You would -thus get a sound knowledge of the intricacies of the profession -which would stand you in good stead when you decide to set up your -own school. School-mastering is a profession, which cannot be -taught adequately except in practice. "Only those who--ah--brave -its dangers comprehend its mystery." Yes, I would certainly -recommend you to begin at the foot of the ladder and go, at least -for a time, through the mill.' - -'Certainly,' I said. 'Of course.' - -My ready acquiescence pleased him. I could see that he was -relieved. I think he had expected me to jib at the prospect of -actual work. - -'As it happens,' he said, 'my classical master left me at the end -of last term. I was about to go to the Agency for a successor when -your letter arrived. Would you consider--' - -I had to think this over. Feeling kindly disposed towards Mr -Arnold Abney, I wished to do him as little harm as possible. I was -going to rob him of a boy, who, while no moulding of his growing -mind could make him into a hereditary legislator, did undoubtedly -represent a portion of Mr Abney's annual income; and I did not -want to increase my offence by being a useless assistant-master. -Then I reflected that, if I was no Jowett, at least I knew enough -Latin and Greek to teach the rudiments of those languages to small -boys. My conscience was satisfied. - -'I should be delighted,' I said. - -'Excellent. Then let us consider that as--ah--settled,' said Mr -Abney. - -There was a pause. My companion began to fiddle a little -uncomfortably with an ash-tray. I wondered what was the matter, -and then it came to me. We were about to become sordid. The -discussion of terms was upon us. - -And as I realized this, I saw simultaneously how I could throw one -more sop to my exigent conscience. After all, the whole thing was -really a question of hard cash. By kidnapping Ogden I should be -taking money from Mr Abney. By paying my premium I should be -giving it back to him. - -I considered the circumstances. Ogden was now about thirteen years -old. The preparatory-school age limit may be estimated roughly at -fourteen. That is to say, in any event Sanstead House could only -harbour him for one year. Mr Abney's fees I had to guess at. To be -on the safe side, I fixed my premium at an outside figure, and, -getting to the point at once, I named it. - -It was entirely satisfactory. My mental arithmetic had done me -credit. Mr Abney beamed upon me. Over tea and muffins we became -very friendly. In half an hour I heard more of the theory of -school-mastering than I had dreamed existed. - -We said good-bye at the club front door. He smiled down at me -benevolently from the top of the steps. - -'Good-bye, Mr Burns, good-bye,' he said. 'We shall meet -at--ah--Philippi.' - -When I reached my rooms, I rang for Smith. - -'Smith,' I said, 'I want you to get some books for me first thing -tomorrow. You had better take a note of them.' - -He moistened his pencil. - -'A Latin Grammar.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'A Greek Grammar.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'Brodley Arnold's Easy Prose Sentences.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'And Caesar's Gallic Wars.' - -'What name, sir?' - -'Caesar.' - -'Thank you, sir. Anything else, sir?' - -'No, that will be all.' - -'Very good, sir.' - -He shimmered from the room. - -Thank goodness, Smith always has thought me mad, and is consequently -never surprised at anything I ask him to do. - - - - -Chapter 2 - - -Sanstead House was an imposing building in the Georgian style. It -stood, foursquare, in the midst of about nine acres of land. For -the greater part of its existence, I learned later, it had been -the private home of a family of the name of Boone, and in its -early days the estate had been considerable. But the progress of -the years had brought changes to the Boones. Money losses had -necessitated the sale of land. New roads had come into being, -cutting off portions of the estate from their centre. New -facilities for travel had drawn members of the family away from -home. The old fixed life of the country had changed, and in the -end the latest Boone had come to the conclusion that to keep up so -large and expensive a house was not worth his while. - -That the place should have become a school was the natural process -of evolution. It was too large for the ordinary purchaser, and the -estate had been so whittled down in the course of time that it was -inadequate for the wealthy. Colonel Boone had been glad to let it -to Mr Abney, and the school had started its career. - -It had all the necessary qualifications for a school. It was -isolated. The village was two miles from its gates. It was near -the sea. There were fields for cricket and football, and inside -the house a number of rooms of every size, suitable for classrooms -and dormitories. - -The household, when I arrived, consisted, besides Mr Abney, myself, -another master named Glossop, and the matron, of twenty-four boys, -the butler, the cook, the odd-job-man, two housemaids, a scullery-maid, -and a parlour-maid. It was a little colony, cut off from the outer -world. - -With the exception of Mr Abney and Glossop, a dismal man of nerves -and mannerisms, the only person with whom I exchanged speech on my -first evening was White, the butler. There are some men one likes -at sight. White was one of them. Even for a butler he was a man of -remarkably smooth manners, but he lacked that quality of austere -aloofness which I have noticed in other butlers. - -He helped me unpack my box, and we chatted during the process. He -was a man of medium height, square and muscular, with something, -some quality of springiness, as it were, that seemed unusual in a -butler. From one or two things he said, I gathered that he had -travelled a good deal. Altogether he interested me. He had humour, -and the half-hour which I had spent with Glossop made me set a -premium on humour. I found that he, like myself, was a new-comer. -His predecessor had left at short notice during the holidays, and -he had secured the vacancy at about the same time that I was -securing mine. We agreed that it was a pretty place. White, I -gathered, regarded its isolation as a merit. He was not fond of -village society. - -On the following morning, at eight o'clock, my work began. - -My first day had the effect of entirely revolutionizing what ideas -I possessed of the lot of the private-school assistant-master. - -My view, till then, had been that the assistant-master had an easy -time. I had only studied him from the outside. My opinion was -based on observations made as a boy at my own private school, when -masters were an enviable race who went to bed when they liked, had -no preparation to do, and couldn't be caned. It seemed to me then -that those three facts, especially the last, formed a pretty good -basis on which to build up the Perfect Life. - -I had not been at Sanstead House two days before doubts began to -creep in on this point. What the boy, observing the assistant-master -standing about in apparently magnificent idleness, does not realize -is that the unfortunate is really putting in a spell of exceedingly -hard work. He is 'taking duty'. And 'taking duty' is a thing to be -remembered, especially by a man who, like myself, has lived a life -of fatted ease, protected from all the minor annoyances of life by -a substantial income. - -Sanstead House educated me. It startled me. It showed me a hundred -ways in which I had allowed myself to become soft and inefficient, -without being aware of it. There may be other professions which -call for a fiercer display of energy, but for the man with a -private income who has loitered through life at his own pace, a -little school-mastering is brisk enough to be a wonderful tonic. - -I needed it, and I got it. - -It was almost as if Mr Abney had realized intuitively how excellent -the discipline of work was for my soul, for the kindly man allowed -me to do not only my own, but most of his as well. I have talked -with assistant-masters since, and I have gathered from them that -headmasters of private schools are divided into two classes: the -workers and the runners-up-to-London. Mr Abney belonged to the -latter class. Indeed, I doubt if a finer representative of the -class could have been found in the length and breadth of southern -England. London drew him like a magnet. - -After breakfast he would take me aside. The formula was always the -same. - -'Ah--Mr Burns.' - -Myself (apprehensively, scenting disaster, 'like some wild -creature caught within a trap, who sees the trapper coming through -the wood'). 'Yes? Er--yes?' - -'I am afraid I shall be obliged to run up to London today. I have -received an important letter from--' And then he would name some -parent or some prospective parent. (By 'prospective' I mean one -who was thinking of sending his son to Sanstead House. You may -have twenty children, but unless you send them to his school, a -schoolmaster will refuse to dignify you with the name of parent.) - -Then, 'He wishes--ah--to see me,' or, in the case of titled -parents, 'He wishes--ah--to talk things over with me.' The -distinction is subtle, but he always made it. - -And presently the cab would roll away down the long drive, and my -work would begin, and with it that soul-discipline to which I have -alluded. - -'Taking duty' makes certain definite calls upon a man. He has to -answer questions; break up fights; stop big boys bullying small -boys; prevent small boys bullying smaller boys; check stone-throwing, -going-on-the-wet-grass, worrying-the-cook, teasing-the-dog, -making-too-much-noise, and, in particular, discourage all forms -of _hara-kiri_ such as tree-climbing, water-spout-scaling, -leaning-too-far-out-of-the-window, sliding-down-the-banisters, -pencil-swallowing, and ink-drinking-because-somebody-dared-me-to. - -At intervals throughout the day there are further feats to -perform. Carving the joint, helping the pudding, playing football, -reading prayers, teaching, herding stragglers in for meals, and -going round the dormitories to see that the lights are out, are a -few of them. - -I wanted to oblige Cynthia, if I could, but there were moments -during the first day or so when I wondered how on earth I was -going to snatch the necessary time to combine kidnapping with my -other duties. Of all the learned professions it seemed to me that -that of the kidnapper most urgently demanded certain intervals for -leisured thought, in which schemes and plots might be matured. - -Schools vary. Sanstead House belonged to the more difficult class. -Mr Abney's constant flittings did much to add to the burdens of -his assistants, and his peculiar reverence for the aristocracy did -even more. His endeavour to make Sanstead House a place where the -delicately nurtured scions of the governing class might feel as -little as possible the temporary loss of titled mothers led him -into a benevolent tolerance which would have unsettled angels. - -Success or failure for an assistant-master is, I consider, very -much a matter of luck. My colleague, Glossop, had most of the -qualities that make for success, but no luck. Properly backed up -by Mr Abney, he might have kept order. As it was, his class-room -was a bear-garden, and, when he took duty, chaos reigned. - -I, on the other hand, had luck. For some reason the boys agreed to -accept me. Quite early in my sojourn I enjoyed that sweetest triumph -of the assistant-master's life, the spectacle of one boy smacking -another boy's head because the latter persisted in making a noise -after I had told him to stop. I doubt if a man can experience so -keenly in any other way that thrill which comes from the knowledge -that the populace is his friend. Political orators must have the -same sort of feeling when their audience clamours for the ejection -of a heckler, but it cannot be so keen. One is so helpless with boys, -unless they decide that they like one. - -It was a week from the beginning of the term before I made the -acquaintance of the Little Nugget. - -I had kept my eyes open for him from the beginning, and when I -discovered that he was not at school, I had felt alarmed. Had -Cynthia sent me down here, to work as I had never worked before, -on a wild-goose chase? - -Then, one morning, Mr Abney drew me aside after breakfast. - -'Ah--Mr Burns.' - -It was the first time that I had heard those soon-to-be-familiar -words. - -'I fear I shall be compelled to run up to London today. I have an -important appointment with the father of a boy who is coming to -the school. He wishes--ah--to see me.' - -This might be the Little Nugget at last. - -I was right. During the interval before school, Augustus Beckford -approached me. Lord Mountry's brother was a stolid boy with -freckles. He had two claims to popular fame. He could hold his -breath longer than any other boy in the school, and he always got -hold of any piece of gossip first. - -'There's a new kid coming tonight, sir,' he said--'an American -kid. I heard him talking about it to the matron. The kid's name's -Ford, I believe the kid's father's awfully rich. Would you like to -be rich, sir? I wish I was rich. If I was rich, I'd buy all sorts -of things. I believe I'm going to be rich when I grow up. I heard -father talking to a lawyer about it. There's a new parlour-maid -coming soon, sir. I heard cook telling Emily. I'm blowed if I'd -like to be a parlour-maid, would you, sir? I'd much rather be a -cook.' - -He pondered the point for a moment. When he spoke again, it was to -touch on a still more profound problem. - -'If you wanted a halfpenny to make up twopence to buy a lizard, -what would you do, sir?' - -He got it. - -Ogden Ford, the El Dorado of the kidnapping industry, entered -Sanstead House at a quarter past nine that evening. He was -preceded by a Worried Look, Mr Arnold Abney, a cabman bearing a -large box, and the odd-job man carrying two suitcases. I have -given precedence to the Worried Look because it was a thing by -itself. To say that Mr Abney wore it would be to create a wrong -impression. Mr Abney simply followed in its wake. He was concealed -behind it much as Macbeth's army was concealed behind the woods of -Dunsinane. - -I only caught a glimpse of Ogden as Mr Abney showed him into his -study. He seemed a self-possessed boy, very like but, if anything, -uglier than the portrait of him which I had seen at the Hotel -Guelph. - -A moment later the door opened, and my employer came out. He -appeared relieved at seeing me. - -'Ah, Mr Burns, I was about to go in search of you. Can you spare -me a moment? Let us go into the dining-room.' - -'That is a boy called Ford, Mr Burns,' he said, when he had closed -the door. 'A rather--er--remarkable boy. He is an American, the -son of a Mr Elmer Ford. As he will be to a great extent in your -charge, I should like to prepare you for his--ah--peculiarities.' - -'Is he peculiar?' - -A faint spasm disturbed Mr Abney's face. He applied a silk -handkerchief to his forehead before he replied. - -'In many ways, judged by the standard of the lads who have passed -through my hands--boys, of course, who, it is only fair to add, -have enjoyed the advantages of a singularly refined home-life--he -may be said to be--ah--somewhat peculiar. While I have no doubt -that _au fond ... au fond_ he is a charming boy, quite charming, -at present he is--shall I say?--peculiar. I am disposed to imagine -that he has been, from childhood up, systematically indulged. -There has been in his life, I suspect, little or no discipline. -The result has been to make him curiously unboylike. There is a -complete absence of that diffidence, that childish capacity for -surprise, which I for one find so charming in our English boys. -Little Ford appears to be completely blase'. He has tastes and ideas -which are precocious, and--unusual in a boy of his age.... He -expresses himself in a curious manner sometimes.... He seems to have -little or no reverence for--ah--constituted authority.' - -He paused while he passed his handkerchief once more over his -forehead. - -'Mr Ford, the boy's father, who struck me as a man of great -ability, a typical American merchant prince, was singularly frank -with me about his domestic affairs as they concerned his son. I -cannot recall his exact words, but the gist of what he said was -that, until now, Mrs Ford had had sole charge of the boy's -upbringing, and--Mr Ford was singularly outspoken--was too -indulgent, in fact--ah--spoilt him. Indeed--you will, of course, -respect my confidence--that was the real reason for the divorce -which--ah--has unhappily come about. Mr Ford regards this school -as in a measure--shall I say?--an antidote. He wishes there to be -no lack of wholesome discipline. So that I shall expect you, Mr -Burns, to check firmly, though, of course, kindly, such habits of -his as--ah--cigarette-smoking. On our journey down he smoked -incessantly. I found it impossible--without physical violence--to -induce him to stop. But, of course, now that he is actually at the -school, and subject to the discipline of the school ...' - -'Exactly,' I said. - -'That was all I wished to say. Perhaps it would be as well if you -saw him now, Mr Burns. You will find him in the study.' - -He drifted away, and I went to the study to introduce myself. - -A cloud of tobacco-smoke rising above the back of an easy-chair -greeted me as I opened the door. Moving into the room, I perceived -a pair of boots resting on the grate. I stepped to the light, and -the remainder of the Little Nugget came into view. - -He was lying almost at full length in the chair, his eyes fixed in -dreamy abstraction upon the ceiling. As I came towards him, he -drew at the cigarette between his fingers, glanced at me, looked -away again, and expelled another mouthful of smoke. He was not -interested in me. - -Perhaps this indifference piqued me, and I saw him with prejudiced -eyes. At any rate, he seemed to me a singularly unprepossessing -youth. That portrait had flattered him. He had a stout body and a -round, unwholesome face. His eyes were dull, and his mouth dropped -discontentedly. He had the air of one who is surfeited with life. - -I am disposed to imagine, as Mr Abney would have said, that my -manner in addressing him was brisker and more incisive than Mr -Abney's own. I was irritated by his supercilious detachment. - -'Throw away that cigarette,' I said. - -To my amazement, he did, promptly. I was beginning to wonder -whether I had not been too abrupt--he gave me a curious sensation -of being a man of my own age--when he produced a silver case from -his pocket and opened it. I saw that the cigarette in the fender -was a stump. - -I took the case from his hand and threw it on to a table. For the -first time he seemed really to notice my existence. - -'You've got a hell of a nerve,' he said. - -He was certainly exhibiting his various gifts in rapid order, -This, I took it, was what Mr Abney had called 'expressing himself -in a curious manner'. - -'And don't swear,' I said. - -We eyed each other narrowly for the space of some seconds. - -'Who are you?' he demanded. - -I introduced myself. - -'What do you want to come butting in for?' - -'I am paid to butt in. It's the main duty of an assistant-master.' - -'Oh, you're the assistant-master, are you?' - -'One of them. And, in passing--it's a small technical point--you're -supposed to call me "sir" during these invigorating little chats -of ours.' - -'Call you what? Up an alley!' - -'I beg your pardon?' - -'Fade away. Take a walk.' - -I gathered that he was meaning to convey that he had considered my -proposition, but regretted his inability to entertain it. - -'Didn't you call your tutor "sir" when you were at home?' - -'Me? Don't make me laugh. I've got a cracked lip.' - -'I gather you haven't an overwhelming respect for those set in -authority over you.' - -'If you mean my tutors, I should say nix.' - -'You use the plural. Had you a tutor before Mr Broster?' - -He laughed. - -'Had I? Only about ten million.' - -'Poor devils!' I said. - -'Who's swearing now?' - -The point was well taken. I corrected myself. - -'Poor brutes! What happened to them? Did they commit suicide?' - -'Oh, they quit. And I don't blame them. I'm a pretty tough -proposition, and you don't want to forget it.' - -He reached out for the cigarette-case. I pocketed it. - -'You make me tired,' he said. - -'The sensation's mutual.' - -'Do you think you can swell around, stopping me doing things?' - -'You've defined my job exactly.' - -'Guess again. I know all about this joint. The hot-air merchant -was telling me about it on the train.' - -I took the allusion to be to Mr Arnold Abney, and thought it -rather a happy one. - -'He's the boss, and nobody but him is allowed to hit the fellows. -If you tried it, you'd lose your job. And he ain't going to, -because the Dad's paying double fees, and he's scared stiff he'll -lose me if there's any trouble.' - -'You seem to have a grasp of the position.' - -'Bet your life I have.' - -I looked at him as he sprawled in the chair. - -'You're a funny kid,' I said. - -He stiffened, outraged. His little eyes gleamed. - -'Say, it looks to me as if you wanted making a head shorter. -You're a darned sight too fresh. Who do you think you are, -anyway?' - -'I'm your guardian angel,' I replied. 'I'm the fellow who's going -to take you in hand and make you a little ray of sunshine about -the home. I know your type backwards. I've been in America and -studied it on its native asphalt. You superfatted millionaire kids -are all the same. If Dad doesn't jerk you into the office before -you're out of knickerbockers, you just run to seed. You get to -think you're the only thing on earth, and you go on thinking it -till one day somebody comes along and shows you you're not, and -then you get what's coming to you--good and hard.' - -He began to speak, but I was on my favourite theme, one I had -studied and brooded upon since the evening when I had received a -certain letter at my club. - -'I knew a man,' I said, 'who started out just like you. He always -had all the money he wanted: never worked: grew to think himself a -sort of young prince. What happened?' - -He yawned. - -'I'm afraid I'm boring you,' I said. - -'Go on. Enjoy yourself,' said the Little Nugget. - -'Well, it's a long story, so I'll spare you it. But the moral of -it was that a boy who is going to have money needs to be taken in -hand and taught sense while he's young.' - -He stretched himself. - -'You talk a lot. What do you reckon you're going to do?' - -I eyed him thoughtfully. - -'Well, everything's got to have a beginning,' I said. 'What you -seem to me to want most is exercise. I'll take you for a run every -day. You won't know yourself at the end of a week.' - -'Say, if you think you're going to get _me_ to run--' - -'When I grab your little hand, and start running, you'll find -you'll soon be running too. And, years hence, when you win the -Marathon at the Olympic Games, you'll come to me with tears in -your eyes, and you'll say--' - -'Oh, slush!' - -'I shouldn't wonder.' I looked at my watch. 'Meanwhile, you had -better go to bed. It's past your proper time.' - -He stared at me in open-eyed amazement. - -'Bed!' - -'Bed.' - -He seemed more amused than annoyed. - -'Say, what time do you think I usually go to bed?' - -'I know what time you go here. Nine o'clock.' - -As if to support my words, the door opened, and Mrs Attwell, the -matron, entered. - -'I think it's time he came to bed, Mr Burns.' - -'Just what I was saying, Mrs Attwell.' - -'You're crazy,' observed the Little Nugget. 'Bed nothing!' - -Mrs Attwell looked at me despairingly. - -'I never saw such a boy!' - -The whole machinery of the school was being held up by this legal -infant. Any vacillation now, and Authority would suffer a set-back -from which it would be hard put to it to recover. It seemed to me -a situation that called for action. - -I bent down, scooped the Little Nugget out of his chair like an -oyster, and made for the door. Outside he screamed incessantly. He -kicked me in the stomach and then on the knee. He continued to -scream. He screamed all the way upstairs. He was screaming when we -reached his room. - - * * * * * - -Half an hour later I sat in the study, smoking thoughtfully. -Reports from the seat of war told of a sullen and probably only -temporary acquiescence with Fate on the part of the enemy. He was -in bed, and seemed to have made up his mind to submit to the -position. An air of restrained jubilation prevailed among the -elder members of the establishment. Mr Abney was friendly and Mrs -Attwell openly congratulatory. I was something like the hero of -the hour. - -But was I jubilant? No, I was inclined to moodiness. Unforeseen -difficulties had arisen in my path. Till now, I had regarded this -kidnapping as something abstract. Personality had not entered into -the matter. If I had had any picture in my mind's eye, it was of -myself stealing away softly into the night with a docile child, -his little hand laid trustfully in mine. From what I had seen and -heard of Ogden Ford in moments of emotion, it seemed to me that -whoever wanted to kidnap him with any approach to stealth would -need to use chloroform. - -Things were getting very complex. - - - - -Chapter 3 - - -I have never kept a diary, and I have found it, in consequence, -somewhat difficult, in telling this narrative, to arrange the -minor incidents of my story in their proper sequence. I am writing -by the light of an imperfect memory; and the work is complicated -by the fact that the early days of my sojourn at Sanstead House -are a blur, a confused welter like a Futurist picture, from which -emerge haphazard the figures of boys--boys working, boys eating, -boys playing football, boys whispering, shouting, asking -questions, banging doors, jumping on beds, and clattering upstairs -and along passages, the whole picture faintly scented with a -composite aroma consisting of roast beef, ink, chalk, and that -curious classroom smell which is like nothing else on earth. - -I cannot arrange the incidents. I can see Mr Abney, furrowed as to -the brow and drooping at the jaw, trying to separate Ogden Ford -from a half-smoked cigar-stump. I can hear Glossop, feverishly -angry, bellowing at an amused class. A dozen other pictures come -back to me, but I cannot place them in their order; and perhaps, -after all, their sequence is unimportant. This story deals with -affairs which were outside the ordinary school life. - -With the war between the Little Nugget and Authority, for -instance, the narrative has little to do. It is a subject for an -epic, but it lies apart from the main channel of the story, and -must be avoided. To tell of his gradual taming, of the chaos his -advent caused until we became able to cope with him, would be to -turn this story into a treatise on education. It is enough to say -that the process of moulding his character and exorcising the -devil which seemed to possess him was slow. - -It was Ogden who introduced tobacco-chewing into the school, with -fearful effects one Saturday night on the aristocratic interiors -of Lords Gartridge and Windhall and Honourables Edwin Bellamy and -Hildebrand Kyne. It was the ingenious gambling-game imported by -Ogden which was rapidly undermining the moral sense of twenty-four -innocent English boys when it was pounced upon by Glossop. It was -Ogden who, on the one occasion when Mr Abney reluctantly resorted -to the cane, and administered four mild taps with it, relieved his -feelings by going upstairs and breaking all the windows in all the -bedrooms. - -We had some difficult young charges at Sanstead House. Abney's -policy of benevolent toleration ensured that. But Ogden Ford stood -alone. - - * * * * * - -I have said that it is difficult for me to place the lesser events -of my narrative in their proper order. I except three, however -which I will call the Affair of the Strange American, the Adventure -of the Sprinting Butler, and the Episode of the Genial Visitor. - -I will describe them singly, as they happened. - -It was the custom at Sanstead House for each of the assistant -masters to take half of one day in every week as a holiday. The -allowance was not liberal, and in most schools, I believe, it is -increased; but Mr Abney was a man with peculiar views on other -people's holidays, and Glossop and I were accordingly restricted. - -My day was Wednesday; and on the Wednesday of which I write I -strolled towards the village. I had in my mind a game of billiards -at the local inn. Sanstead House and its neighbourhood were -lacking in the fiercer metropolitan excitements, and billiards at -the 'Feathers' constituted for the pleasure-seeker the beginning -and end of the Gay Whirl. - -There was a local etiquette governing the game of billiards at the -'Feathers'. You played the marker a hundred up, then you took him -into the bar-parlour and bought him refreshment. He raised his -glass, said, 'To you, sir', and drained it at a gulp. After that -you could, if you wished, play another game, or go home, as your -fancy dictated. - -There was only one other occupant of the bar-parlour when we -adjourned thither, and a glance at him told me that he was not -ostentatiously sober. He was lying back in a chair, with his feet -on the side-table, and crooning slowly, in a melancholy voice, the -following words: - - _'I don't care--if he wears--a crown, - He--can't--keep kicking my--dawg aroun'.'_ - -He was a tough, clean-shaven man, with a broken nose, over which -was tilted a soft felt hat. His wiry limbs were clad in what I put -down as a mail-order suit. I could have placed him by his -appearance, if I had not already done so by his voice, as an -East-side New Yorker. And what an East-side New Yorker could be -doing in Sanstead it was beyond me to explain. - -We had hardly seated ourselves when he rose and lurched out. I saw -him pass the window, and his assertion that no crowned head should -molest his dog came faintly to my ears as he went down the street. - -'American!' said Miss Benjafield, the stately barmaid, with strong -disapproval. 'They're all alike.' - -I never contradict Miss Benjafield--one would as soon contradict -the Statue of Liberty--so I merely breathed sympathetically. - -'What's he here for I'd like to know?' - -It occurred to me that I also should like to know. In another -thirty hours I was to find out. - -I shall lay myself open to a charge of denseness such as even -Doctor Watson would have scorned when I say that, though I thought -of the matter a good deal on my way back to the school, I did not -arrive at the obvious solution. Much teaching and taking of duty -had dulled my wits, and the presence at Sanstead House of the -Little Nugget did not even occur to me as a reason why strange -Americans should be prowling in the village. - -We now come to the remarkable activity of White, the butler. - -It happened that same evening. - -It was not late when I started on my way back to the house, but the -short January day was over, and it was very dark as I turned in at -the big gate of the school and made my way up the drive. The drive -at Sanstead House was a fine curving stretch of gravel, about two -hundred yards in length, flanked on either side by fir trees and -rhododendrons. I stepped out briskly, for it had begun to freeze. -Just as I caught sight through the trees of the lights of the -windows, there came to me the sound of running feet. - -I stopped. The noise grew louder. There seemed to be two runners, -one moving with short, quick steps, the other, the one in front, -taking a longer stride. - -I drew aside instinctively. In another moment, making a great -clatter on the frozen gravel, the first of the pair passed me; and -as he did so, there was a sharp crack, and something sang through -the darkness like a large mosquito. - -The effect of the sound on the man who had been running was -immediate. He stopped in his stride and dived into the bushes. His -footsteps thudded faintly on the turf. - -The whole incident had lasted only a few seconds, and I was still -standing there when I was aware of the other man approaching. He -had apparently given up the pursuit, for he was walking quite -slowly. He stopped within a few feet of me and I heard him -swearing softly to himself. - -'Who's that?' I cried sharply. The crack of the pistol had given a -flick to my nerves. Mine had been a sheltered life, into which -hitherto revolver-shots had not entered, and I was resenting this -abrupt introduction of them. I felt jumpy and irritated. - -It gave me a malicious pleasure to see that I had startled the -unknown dispenser of shocks quite as much as he had startled me. -The movement he made as he faced towards my direction was almost a -leap; and it suddenly flashed upon me that I had better at once -establish my identity as a non-combatant. I appeared to have -wandered inadvertently into the midst of a private quarrel, one -party to which--the one standing a couple of yards from me with a -loaded revolver in his hand--was evidently a man of impulse, the -sort of man who would shoot first and inquire afterwards. - -'I'm Mr Burns,' I said. 'I'm one of the assistant-masters. Who are -you?' - -'Mr Burns?' - -Surely that rich voice was familiar. - -'White?' I said. - -'Yes, sir.' - -'What on earth do you think you're doing? Have you gone mad? Who -was that man?' - -'I wish I could tell you, sir. A very doubtful character. I found -him prowling at the back of the house very suspiciously. He took -to his heels and I followed him.' - -'But'--I spoke querulously, my orderly nature was shocked--'you -can't go shooting at people like that just because you find them -at the back of the house. He might have been a tradesman.' - -'I think not, sir.' - -'Well, so do I, if it comes to that. He didn't behave like one. But -all the same--' - -'I take your point, sir. But I was merely intending to frighten -him.' - -'You succeeded all right. He went through those bushes like a -cannon-ball.' - -I heard him chuckle. - -'I think I may have scared him a little, sir.' - -'We must phone to the police-station. Could you describe the man?' - -'I think not, sir. It was very dark. And, if I may make the -suggestion, it would be better not to inform the police. I have a -very poor opinion of these country constables.' - -'But we can't have men prowling--' - -'If you will permit me, sir. I say--let them prowl. It's the only -way to catch them.' - -'If you think this sort of thing is likely to happen again I must -tell Mr Abney.' - -'Pardon me, sir, I think it would be better not. He impresses me -as a somewhat nervous gentleman, and it would only disturb him.' - -At this moment it suddenly struck me that, in my interest in the -mysterious fugitive, I had omitted to notice what was really the -most remarkable point in the whole affair. How did White happen to -have a revolver at all? I have met many butlers who behaved -unexpectedly in their spare time. One I knew played the fiddle; -another preached Socialism in Hyde Park. But I had never yet come -across a butler who fired pistols. - -'What were you doing with a revolver?' I asked. - -He hesitated. - -'May I ask you to keep it to yourself, sir, if I tell you -something?' he said at last. - -'What do you mean?' - -'I'm a detective.' - -'What!' - -'A Pinkerton's man, Mr Burns.' - -I felt like one who sees the 'danger' board over thin ice. But for -this information, who knew what rash move I might not have made, -under the assumption that the Little Nugget was unguarded? At the -same time, I could not help reflecting that, if things had been -complex before, they had become far more so in the light of this -discovery. To spirit Ogden away had never struck me, since his -arrival at the school, as an easy task. It seemed more difficult -now than ever. - -I had the sense to affect astonishment. I made my imitation of an -innocent assistant-master astounded by the news that the butler is -a detective in disguise as realistic as I was able. It appeared to -be satisfactory, for he began to explain. - -'I am employed by Mr Elmer Ford to guard his son. There are -several parties after that boy, Mr Burns. Naturally he is a -considerable prize. Mr Ford would pay a large sum to get back his -only son if he were kidnapped. So it stands to reason he takes -precautions.' - -'Does Mr Abney know what you are?' - -'No, sir. Mr Abney thinks I am an ordinary butler. You are the -only person who knows, and I have only told you because you have -happened to catch me in a rather queer position for a butler to be -in. You will keep it to yourself, sir? It doesn't do for it to get -about. These things have to be done quietly. It would be bad for -the school if my presence here were advertised. The other parents -wouldn't like it. They would think that their sons were in danger, -you see. It would be disturbing for them. So if you will just -forget what I've been telling you, Mr Burns--' - -I assured him that I would. But I was very far from meaning it. If -there was one thing which I intended to bear in mind, it was the -fact that watchful eyes besides mine were upon that Little Nugget. - -The third and last of this chain of occurrences, the Episode of -the Genial Visitor, took place on the following day, and may be -passed over briefly. All that happened was that a well-dressed -man, who gave his name as Arthur Gordon, of Philadelphia, dropped -in unexpectedly to inspect the school. He apologized for not -having written to make an appointment, but explained that he was -leaving England almost immediately. He was looking for a school -for his sister's son, and, happening to meet his business -acquaintance, Mr Elmer Ford, in London, he had been recommended to -Mr Abney. He made himself exceedingly pleasant. He was a breezy, -genial man, who joked with Mr Abney, chaffed the boys, prodded the -Little Nugget in the ribs, to that overfed youth's discomfort, -made a rollicking tour of the house, in the course of which he -inspected Ogden's bedroom--in order, he told Mr Abney, to be able -to report conscientiously to his friend Ford that the son and heir -was not being pampered too much, and departed in a whirl of -good-humour, leaving every one enthusiastic over his charming -personality. His last words were that everything was thoroughly -satisfactory, and that he had learned all he wanted to know. - -Which, as was proved that same night, was the simple truth. - - - - -Chapter 4 - - -I - -I owed it to my colleague Glossop that I was in the centre of the -surprising things that occurred that night. By sheer weight of -boredom, Glossop drove me from the house, so that it came about -that, at half past nine, the time at which the affair began, I was -patrolling the gravel in front of the porch. - -It was the practice of the staff of Sanstead House School to -assemble after dinner in Mr Abney's study for coffee. The room was -called the study, but it was really more of a master's common -room. Mr Abney had a smaller sanctum of his own, reserved -exclusively for himself. - -On this particular night he went there early, leaving me alone -with Glossop. It is one of the drawbacks of the desert-island -atmosphere of a private school that everybody is always meeting -everybody else. To avoid a man for long is impossible. I had been -avoiding Glossop as long as I could, for I knew that he wanted to -corner me with a view to a heart-to-heart talk on Life Insurance. - -These amateur Life Insurance agents are a curious band. The world -is full of them. I have met them at country-houses, at seaside -hotels, on ships, everywhere; and it has always amazed me that -they should find the game worth the candle. What they add to their -incomes I do not know, but it cannot be very much, and the trouble -they have to take is colossal. Nobody loves them, and they must -see it; yet they persevere. Glossop, for instance, had been trying -to buttonhole me every time there was a five minutes' break in the -day's work. - -He had his chance now, and he did not mean to waste it. Mr Abney -had scarcely left the room when he began to exude pamphlets and -booklets at every pocket. - -I eyed him sourly, as he droned on about 'reactionable endowment', -'surrender-value', and 'interest accumulating on the tontine -policy', and tried, as I did so, to analyse the loathing I felt -for him. I came to the conclusion that it was partly due to his -pose of doing the whole thing from purely altruistic motives, -entirely for my good, and partly because he forced me to face the -fact that I was not always going to be young. In an abstract -fashion I had already realized that I should in time cease to be -thirty, but the way in which Glossop spoke of my sixty-fifth -birthday made me feel as if it was due tomorrow. He was a man with -a manner suggestive of a funeral mute suffering from suppressed -jaundice, and I had never before been so weighed down with a sense -of the inevitability of decay and the remorseless passage of time. -I could feel my hair whitening. - -A need for solitude became imperative; and, murmuring something -about thinking it over, I escaped from the room. - -Except for my bedroom, whither he was quite capable of following -me, I had no refuge but the grounds. I unbolted the front door and -went out. - -It was still freezing, and, though the stars shone, the trees grew -so closely about the house that it was too dark for me to see more -than a few feet in front of me. - -I began to stroll up and down. The night was wonderfully still. I -could hear somebody walking up the drive--one of the maids, I -supposed, returning from her evening out. I could even hear a bird -rustling in the ivy on the walls of the stables. - -I fell into a train of thought. I think my mind must still have -been under Glossop's gloom-breeding spell, for I was filled with a -sense of the infinite pathos of Life. What was the good of it all? -Why was a man given chances of happiness without the sense to -realize and use them? If Nature had made me so self-satisfied that -I had lost Audrey because of my self-satisfaction why had she not -made me so self-satisfied that I could lose her without a pang? -Audrey! It annoyed me that, whenever I was free for a moment from -active work, my thoughts should keep turning to her. It frightened -me, too. Engaged to Cynthia, I had no right to have such thoughts. - -Perhaps it was the mystery which hung about her that kept her in -my mind. I did not know where she was. I did not know how she -fared. I did not know what sort of a man it was whom she had -preferred to me. That, it struck me, was the crux of the matter. -She had vanished absolutely with another man whom I had never seen -and whose very name I did not know. I had been beaten by an unseen -foe. - -I was deep in a very slough of despond when suddenly things began -to happen. I might have known that Sanstead House would never -permit solitary brooding on Life for long. It was a place of -incident, not of abstract speculation. - -I had reached the end of my 'beat', and had stopped to relight my -pipe, when drama broke loose with the swift unexpectedness which -was characteristic of the place. The stillness of the night was -split by a sound which I could have heard in a gale and recognized -among a hundred conflicting noises. It was a scream, a shrill, -piercing squeal that did not rise to a crescendo, but started at -its maximum and held the note; a squeal which could only proceed -from one throat: the deafening war-cry of the Little Nugget. - -I had grown accustomed, since my arrival at Sanstead House, to a -certain quickening of the pace of life, but tonight events -succeeded one another with a rapidity which surprised me. A whole -cinematograph-drama was enacted during the space of time it takes -for a wooden match to burn. - -At the moment when the Little Nugget gave tongue, I had just -struck one, and I stood, startled into rigidity, holding it in the -air as if I had decided to constitute myself a sort of limelight -man to the performance. - -It cannot have been more than a few seconds later before some -person unknown nearly destroyed me. - -I was standing, holding my match and listening to the sounds of -confusion indoors, when this person, rounding the angle of the -house in a desperate hurry, emerged from the bushes and rammed me -squarely. - -He was a short man, or he must have crouched as he ran, for his -shoulder--a hard, bony shoulder--was precisely the same distance -from the ground as my solar plexus. In the brief impact which -ensued between the two, the shoulder had the advantage of being in -motion, while the solar plexus was stationary, and there was no -room for any shadow of doubt as to which had the worst of it. - -That the mysterious unknown was not unshaken by the encounter was -made clear by a sharp yelp of surprise and pain. He staggered. -What happened to him after that was not a matter of interest to -me. I gather that he escaped into the night. But I was too -occupied with my own affairs to follow his movements. - -Of all cures for melancholy introspection a violent blow in the -solar plexus is the most immediate. If Mr Corbett had any abstract -worries that day at Carson City, I fancy they ceased to occupy his -mind from the moment when Mr Fitzsimmons administered that historic -left jab. In my case the cure was instantaneous. I can remember -reeling across the gravel and falling in a heap and trying to -breathe and knowing that I should never again be able to, and -then for some minutes all interest in the affairs of this world -left me. - -How long it was before my breath returned, hesitatingly, like some -timid Prodigal Son trying to muster up courage to enter the old -home, I do not know; but it cannot have been many minutes, for the -house was only just beginning to disgorge its occupants as I sat -up. Disconnected cries and questions filled the air. Dim forms -moved about in the darkness. - -I had started to struggle to my feet, feeling very sick and -boneless, when it was borne in upon me that the sensations of this -remarkable night were not yet over. As I reached a sitting -position, and paused before adventuring further, to allow a wave -of nausea to pass, a hand was placed on my shoulder and a voice -behind me said, 'Don't move!' - - -II - -I was not in a condition to argue. Beyond a fleeting feeling that -a liberty was being taken with me and that I was being treated -unjustly, I do not remember resenting the command. I had no notion -who the speaker might be, and no curiosity. Breathing just then -had all the glamour of a difficult feat cleverly performed. I -concentrated my whole attention upon it. I was pleased, and -surprised, to find myself getting on so well. I remember having -much the same sensation when I first learned to ride a bicycle--a -kind of dazed feeling that I seemed to be doing it, but Heaven -alone knew how. - -A minute or so later, when I had leisure to observe outside -matters, I perceived that among the other actors in the drama -confusion still reigned. There was much scuttering about and much -meaningless shouting. Mr Abney's reedy tenor voice was issuing -directions, each of which reached a dizzier height of futility -than the last. Glossop was repeating over and over again the -words, 'Shall I telephone for the police?' to which nobody -appeared to pay the least attention. One or two boys were darting -about like rabbits and squealing unintelligibly. A female voice--I -think Mrs Attwell's--was saying, 'Can you see him?' - -Up to this point, my match, long since extinguished, had been the -only illumination the affair had received; but now somebody, who -proved to be White, the butler, came from the direction of the -stable-yard with a carriage-lamp. Every one seemed calmer and -happier for it. The boys stopped squealing, Mrs Attwell and -Glossop subsided, and Mr Abney said 'Ah!' in a self-satisfied -voice, as if he had directed this move and was congratulating -himself on the success with which it had been carried out. - -The whole strength of the company gathered round the light. - -'Thank you, White,' said Mr Abney. 'Excellent. I fear the -scoundrel has escaped.' - -'I suspect so, sir.' - -'This is a very remarkable occurrence, White.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'The man was actually in Master Ford's bedroom.' - -'Indeed, sir?' - -A shrill voice spoke. I recognized it as that of Augustus -Beckford, always to be counted upon to be in the centre of things -gathering information. - -'Sir, please, sir, what was up? Who was it, sir? Sir, was it a -burglar, sir? Have you ever met a burglar, sir? My father took me -to see Raffles in the holidays, sir. Do you think this chap was -like Raffles, sir? Sir--' - -'It was undoubtedly--' Mr Abney was beginning, when the identity -of the questioner dawned upon him, and for the first time he -realized that the drive was full of boys actively engaged in -catching their deaths of cold. His all-friends-here-let-us- -discuss-this-interesting-episode-fully manner changed. He became -the outraged schoolmaster. Never before had I heard him speak so -sharply to boys, many of whom, though breaking rules, were still -titled. - -'What are you boys doing out of bed? Go back to bed instantly. I -shall punish you most severely. I--' - -'Shall I telephone for the police?' asked Glossop. Disregarded. - -'I will not have this conduct. You will catch cold. This is -disgraceful. Ten bad marks! I shall punish you most severely if -you do not instantly--' - -A calm voice interrupted him. - -'Say!' - -The Little Nugget strolled easily into the circle of light. He was -wearing a dressing-gown, and in his hand was a smouldering -cigarette, from which he proceeded, before continuing his remarks, -to blow a cloud of smoke. - -'Say, I guess you're wrong. That wasn't any ordinary porch-climber.' - -The spectacle of his _bete noire_ wreathed in smoke, coming -on top of the emotions of the night, was almost too much for Mr -Abney. He gesticulated for a moment in impassioned silence, his -arms throwing grotesque shadows on the gravel. - -'How _dare_ you smoke, boy! How _dare_ you smoke that cigarette!' - -'It's the only one I've got,' responded the Little Nugget amiably. - -'I have spoken to you--I have warned you--Ten bad marks!--I will -not have--Fifteen bad marks!' - -The Little Nugget ignored the painful scene. He was smiling -quietly. - -'If you ask _me_,' he said, 'that guy was after something better -than plated spoons. Yes, sir! If you want my opinion, it was Buck -MacGinnis, or Chicago Ed., or one of those guys, and what he was -trailing was me. They're always at it. Buck had a try for me in the -fall of '07, and Ed.--' - -'Do you hear me? Will you return instantly--' - -'If you don't believe me I can show you the piece there was about -it in the papers. I've got a press-clipping album in my box. -Whenever there's a piece about me in the papers, I cut it out and -paste it into my album. If you'll come right along, I'll show you -the story about Buck now. It happened in Chicago, and he'd have -got away with me if it hadn't been--' - -'Twenty bad marks!' - -'Mr Abney!' - -It was the person standing behind me who spoke. Till now he or she -had remained a silent spectator, waiting, I suppose, for a lull in -the conversation. - -They jumped, all together, like a well-trained chorus. - -'Who is that?' cried Mr Abney. I could tell by the sound of his -voice that his nerves were on wires. 'Who was that who spoke?' - -'Shall I telephone for the police?' asked Glossop. Ignored. - -'I am Mrs Sheridan, Mr Abney. You were expecting me to-night.' - -'Mrs Sheridan? Mrs Sher--I expected you in a cab. I expected you -in--ah--in fact, a cab.' - -'I walked.' - -I had a curious sensation of having heard the voice before. When -she had told me not to move, she had spoken in a whisper--or, to -me, in my dazed state, it had sounded like a whisper--but now she -was raising her voice, and there was a note in it that seemed -familiar. It stirred some chord in my memory, and I waited to hear -it again. - -When it came it brought the same sensation, but nothing more -definite. It left me groping for the clue. - -'Here is one of the men, Mr Abney.' - -There was a profound sensation. Boys who had ceased to squeal, -squealed with fresh vigour. Glossop made his suggestion about the -telephone with a new ring of hope in his voice. Mrs Attwell -shrieked. They made for us in a body, boys and all, White leading -with the lantern. I was almost sorry for being compelled to -provide an anticlimax. - -Augustus Beckford was the first to recognize me, and I expect he -was about to ask me if I liked sitting on the gravel on a frosty -night, or what gravel was made of, when Mr Abney spoke. - -'Mr Burns! What--dear me!--_what_ are you doing there?' - -'Perhaps Mr Burns can give us some information as to where the man -went, sir,' suggested White. - -'On everything except that,' I said, 'I'm a mine of information. I -haven't the least idea where he went. All I know about him is that -he has a shoulder like the ram of a battleship, and that he -charged me with it.' - -As I was speaking, I thought I heard a little gasp behind me. I -turned. I wanted to see this woman who stirred my memory with her -voice. But the rays of the lantern did not fall on her, and she -was a shapeless blur in the darkness. Somehow I felt that she was -looking intently at me. - -I resumed my narrative. - -'I was lighting my pipe when I heard a scream--' A chuckle came -from the group behind the lantern. - -'I screamed,' said the Little Nugget. 'You bet I screamed! What -would _you_ do if you woke up in the dark and found a strong-armed -roughneck prising you out of bed as if you were a clam? He tried to -get his hand over my mouth, but he only connected with my forehead, -and I'd got going before he could switch. I guess I threw a scare -into that gink!' - -He chuckled again, reminiscently, and drew at his cigarette. - -'How dare you smoke! Throw away that cigarette!' cried Mr Abney, -roused afresh by the red glow. - -'Forget it!' advised the Little Nugget tersely. - -'And then,' I said, 'somebody whizzed out from nowhere and hit me. -And after that I didn't seem to care much about him or anything -else.' I spoke in the direction of my captor. She was still -standing outside the circle of light. 'I expect you can tell us -what happened, Mrs Sheridan?' - -I did not think that her information was likely to be of any -practical use, but I wanted to make her speak again. - -Her first words were enough. I wondered how I could ever have been -in doubt. I knew the voice now. It was one which I had not heard -for five years, but one which I could never forget if I lived for -ever. - -'Somebody ran past me.' I hardly heard her. My heart was pounding, -and a curious dizziness had come over me. I was grappling with the -incredible. 'I think he went into the bushes.' - -I heard Glossop speak, and gathered from Mr Abney's reply; that he -had made his suggestion about the telephone once more. - -'I think that will be--ah--unnecessary, Mr Glossop. The man has -undoubtedly--ah--made good his escape. I think we had all better -return to the house.' He turned to the dim figure beside me. 'Ah, -Mrs Sheridan, you must be tired after your journey and the--ah unusual -excitement. Mrs Attwell will show you where you--in fact, your room.' - -In the general movement White must have raised the lamp or stepped -forward, for the rays shifted. The figure beside me was no longer -dim, but stood out sharp and clear in the yellow light. - -I was aware of two large eyes looking into mine as, in the grey -London morning two weeks before, they had looked from a faded -photograph. - - - - -Chapter 5 - - -Of all the emotions which kept me awake that night, a vague -discomfort and a feeling of resentment against Fate more than -against any individual, were the two that remained with me next -morning. Astonishment does not last. The fact of Audrey and myself -being under the same roof after all these years had ceased to -amaze me. It was a minor point, and my mind shelved it in order to -deal with the one thing that really mattered, the fact that she -had come back into my life just when I had definitely, as I -thought, put her out of it. - -My resentment deepened. Fate had played me a wanton trick. Cynthia -trusted me. If I were weak, I should not be the only one to -suffer. And something told me that I should be weak. How could I -hope to be strong, tortured by the thousand memories which the -sight of her would bring back to me? - -But I would fight, I told myself. I would not yield easily. I -promised that to my self-respect, and was rewarded with a certain -glow of excitement. I felt defiant. I wanted to test myself at -once. - -My opportunity came after breakfast. She was standing on the -gravel in front of the house, almost, in fact, on the spot where -we had met the night before. She looked up as she heard my step, -and I saw that her chin had that determined tilt which, in the -days of our engagement, I had noticed often without attaching any -particular significance to it. Heavens, what a ghastly lump of -complacency I must have been in those days! A child, I thought, if -he were not wrapped up in the contemplation of his own magnificence, -could read its meaning. - -It meant war, and I was glad of it. I wanted war. - -'Good morning,' I said. - -'Good morning.' - -There was a pause. I took the opportunity to collect my thoughts. - -I looked at her curiously. Five years had left their mark on her, -but entirely for the good. She had an air of quiet strength which -I had never noticed in her before. It may have been there in the -old days, but I did not think so. It was, I felt certain, a later -development. She gave the impression of having been through much -and of being sure of herself. - -In appearance she had changed amazingly little. She looked as -small and slight and trim as ever she had done. She was a little -paler, I thought, and the Irish eyes were older and a shade -harder; but that was all. - -I awoke with a start to the fact that I was staring at her. A -slight flush had crept into her pale cheeks. - -'Don't!' she said suddenly, with a little gesture of irritation. - -The word and the gesture killed, as if they had been a blow, a -kind of sentimental tenderness which had been stealing over me. - -'What are you doing here?' I asked. - -She was silent. - -'Please don't think I want to pry into your affairs,' I said -viciously. 'I was only interested in the coincidence that we -should meet here like this.' - -She turned to me impulsively. Her face had lost its hard look. - -'Oh, Peter,' she said, 'I'm sorry. I _am_ sorry.' - -It was my chance, and I snatched at it with a lack of chivalry -which I regretted almost immediately. But I was feeling bitter, -and bitterness makes a man do cheap things. - -'Sorry?' I said, politely puzzled. 'Why?' - -She looked taken aback, as I hoped she would. - -'For--for what happened.' - -'My dear Audrey! Anybody would have made the same mistake. I don't -wonder you took me for a burglar.' - -'I didn't mean that. I meant--five years ago.' - -I laughed. I was not feeling like laughter at the moment, but I -did my best, and had the satisfaction of seeing that it jarred -upon her. - -'Surely you're not worrying yourself about that?' I said. I -laughed again. Very jovial and debonair I was that winter morning. - -The brief moment in which we might have softened towards each -other was over. There was a glitter in her blue eyes which told me -that it was once more war between us. - -'I thought you would get over it,' she said. - -'Well,' I said, 'I was only twenty-five. One's heart doesn't break -at twenty-five.' - -'I don't think yours would ever be likely to break, Peter.' - -'Is that a compliment, or otherwise?' - -'You would probably think it a compliment. I meant that you were -not human enough to be heart-broken.' - -'So that's your idea of a compliment!' - -'I said I thought it was probably yours.' - -'I must have been a curious sort of man five years ago, if I gave -you that impression.' - -'You were.' - -She spoke in a meditative voice, as if, across the years, she were -idly inspecting some strange species of insect. The attitude -annoyed me. I could look, myself, with a detached eye at the man I -had once been, but I still retained a sort of affection for him, -and I felt piqued. - -'I suppose you looked on me as a kind of ogre in those days?' I -said. - -'I suppose I did.' - -There was a pause. - -'I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,' she said. And that was the -most galling part of it. Mine was an attitude of studied -offensiveness. I did want to hurt her feelings. But hers, it -seemed to me, was no pose. She really had had--and, I suppose, -still retained--a genuine horror of me. The struggle was unequal. - -'You were very kind,' she went on, 'sometimes--when you happened -to think of it.' - -Considered as the best she could find to say of me, it was not an -eulogy. - -'Well,' I said, 'we needn't discuss what I was or did five years -ago. Whatever I was or did, you escaped. Let's think of the -present. What are we going to do about this?' - -'You think the situation's embarrassing?' - -'I do.' - -'One of us ought to go, I suppose,' she said doubtfully. - -'Exactly.' - -'Well, I can't go.' - -'Nor can I.' - -'I have business here.' - -'Obviously, so have I.' - -'It's absolutely necessary that I should be here.' - -'And that I should.' - -She considered me for a moment. - -'Mrs Attwell told me that you were one of the assistant-masters -at the school.' - -'I am acting as assistant-master. I am supposed to be learning the -business.' - -She hesitated. - -'Why?' she said. - -'Why not?' - -'But--but--you used to be very well off.' - -'I'm better off now. I'm working.' - -She was silent for a moment. - -'Of course it's impossible for you to leave. You couldn't, could -you?' - -'No.' - -'I can't either.' - -'Then I suppose we must face the embarrassment.' - -'But why must it be embarrassing? You said yourself you had--got -over it.' - -'Absolutely. I am engaged to be married.' - -She gave a little start. She drew a pattern on the gravel with her -foot before she spoke. - -'I congratulate you,' she said at last. - -'Thank you.' - -'I hope you will be very happy.' - -'I'm sure I shall.' - -She relapsed into silence. It occurred to me that, having posted -her thoroughly in my affairs, I was entitled to ask about hers. - -'How in the world did you come to be here?' I said. - -'It's rather a long story. After my husband died--' - -'Oh!' I exclaimed, startled. - -'Yes; he died three years ago.' - -She spoke in a level voice, with a ring of hardness in it, for -which I was to learn the true reason later. At the time it seemed -to me due to resentment at having to speak of the man she had -loved to me, whom she disliked, and my bitterness increased. - -'I have been looking after myself for a long time.' - -'In England?' - -'In America. We went to New York directly we--directly I had -written to you. I have been in America ever since. I only returned -to England a few weeks ago.' - -'But what brought you to Sanstead?' - -'Some years ago I got to know Mr Ford, the father of the little -boy who is at the school. He recommended me to Mr Abney, who -wanted somebody to help with the school.' - -'And you are dependent on your work? I mean--forgive me if I am -personal--Mr Sheridan did not--' - -'He left no money at all.' - -'Who was he?' I burst out. I felt that the subject of the dead man -was one which it was painful for her to talk about, at any rate to -me; but the Sheridan mystery had vexed me for five years, and I -thirsted to know something of this man who had dynamited my life -without ever appearing in it. - -'He was an artist, a friend of my father.' - -I wanted to hear more. I wanted to know what he looked like, how -he spoke, how he compared with me in a thousand ways; but it was -plain that she would not willingly be communicative about him; -and, with a feeling of resentment, I gave her her way and -suppressed my curiosity. - -'So your work here is all you have?' I said. - -'Absolutely all. And, if it's the same with you, well, here we -are!' - -'Here we are!' I echoed. 'Exactly.' - -'We must try and make it as easy for each other as we can,' she -said. - -'Of course.' - -She looked at me in that curious, wide-eyed way of hers. - -'You have got thinner, Peter,' she said. - -'Have I?' I said. 'Suffering, I suppose, or exercise.' - -Her eyes left my face. I saw her bite her lip. - -'You hate me,' she said abruptly. 'You've been hating me all these -years. Well, I don't wonder.' - -She turned and began to walk slowly away, and as she did so a -sense of the littleness of the part I was playing came over me. -Ever since our talk had begun I had been trying to hurt her, -trying to take a petty revenge on her--for what? All that had -happened five years ago had been my fault. I could not let her go -like this. I felt unutterably mean. - -'Audrey!' I called. - -She stopped. I went to her. - -'Audrey!' I said, 'you're wrong. If there's anybody I hate, it's -myself. I just want to tell you I understand.' - -Her lips parted, but she did not speak. - -'I understand just what made you do it,' I went on. 'I can see now -the sort of man I was in those days.' - -'You're saying that to--to help me,' she said in a low voice. - -'No. I have felt like that about it for years.' - -'I treated you shamefully.' - -'Nothing of the kind. There's a certain sort of man who badly -needs a--jolt, and he has to get it sooner or later. It happened -that you gave me mine, but that wasn't your fault. I was bound to -get it--somehow.' I laughed. 'Fate was waiting for me round the -corner. Fate wanted something to hit me with. You happened to be -the nearest thing handy.' - -'I'm sorry, Peter.' - -'Nonsense. You knocked some sense into me. That's all you did. -Every man needs education. Most men get theirs in small doses, so -that they hardly know they are getting it at all. My money kept me -from getting mine that way. By the time I met you there was a -great heap of back education due to me, and I got it in a lump. -That's all.' - -'You're generous.' - -'Nothing of the kind. It's only that I see things clearer than I -did. I was a pig in those days.' - -'You weren't!' - -'I was. Well, we won't quarrel about it.' - -Inside the house the bell rang for breakfast. We turned. As I drew -back to let her go in, she stopped. - -'Peter,' she said. - -She began to speak quickly. - -'Peter, let's be sensible. Why should we let this embarrass us, -this being together here? Can't we just pretend that we're two old -friends who parted through a misunderstanding, and have come -together again, with all the misunderstanding cleared away--friends -again? Shall we?' - -She held out her hand. She was smiling, but her eyes were grave. - -'Old friends, Peter?' - -I took her hand. - -'Old friends,' I said. - -And we went in to breakfast. On the table, beside my plate, was -lying a letter from Cynthia. - - - - -Chapter 6 - - -I - -I give the letter in full. It was written from the s.y. _Mermaid_, -lying in Monaco Harbour. - -MY DEAR PETER, Where is Ogden? We have been expecting him every -day. Mrs Ford is worrying herself to death. She keeps asking me if -I have any news, and it is very tiresome to have to keep telling -her that I have not heard from you. Surely, with the opportunities -you must get every day, you can manage to kidnap him. Do be quick. -We are relying on you.--In haste, - CYNTHIA. - -I read this brief and business-like communication several times -during the day; and after dinner that night, in order to meditate -upon it in solitude, I left the house and wandered off in the -direction of the village. - -I was midway between house and village when I became aware that I -was being followed. The night was dark, and the wind moving in the -tree-tops emphasized the loneliness of the country road. Both time -and place were such as made it peculiarly unpleasant to hear -stealthy footsteps on the road behind me. - -Uncertainty in such cases is the unnerving thing. I turned -sharply, and began to walk back on tiptoe in the direction from -which I had come. - -I had not been mistaken. A moment later a dark figure loomed up -out of the darkness, and the exclamation which greeted me, as I -made my presence known, showed that I had taken him by surprise. - -There was a momentary pause. I expected the man, whoever he might -be, to run, but he held his ground. Indeed, he edged forward. - -'Get back!' I said, and allowed my stick to rasp suggestively on -the road before raising it in readiness for any sudden development. -It was as well that he should know it was there. - -The hint seemed to wound rather than frighten him. - -'Aw, cut out the rough stuff, bo,' he said reproachfully in a -cautious, husky undertone. 'I ain't goin' to start anything.' - -I had an impression that I had heard the voice before, but I could -not place it. - -'What are you following me for?' I demanded. 'Who are you?' - -'Say, I want a talk wit youse. I took a slant at youse under de -lamp-post back dere, an' I seen it was you, so I tagged along. -Say, I'm wise to your game, sport.' - -I had identified him by this time. Unless there were two men in -the neighbourhood of Sanstead who hailed from the Bowery, this -must be the man I had seen at the 'Feathers' who had incurred the -disapproval of Miss Benjafield. - -'I haven't the faintest idea what you mean,' I said. 'What is my -game?' - -His voice became reproachful again. - -'Ah chee!' he protested. 'Quit yer kiddin'! What was youse -rubberin' around de house for last night if you wasn't trailin' de -kid?' - -'Was it you who ran into me last night?' I asked. - -'Gee! I fought it was a tree. I came near takin' de count.' - -'I did take it. You seemed in a great hurry.' - -'Hell!' said the man simply, and expectorated. - -'Say,' he resumed, having delivered this criticism on that -stirring episode, dat's a great kid, dat Nugget. I fought it was a -Black Hand soup explosion when he cut loose. But, say, let's don't -waste time. We gotta get together about dat kid.' - -'Certainly, if you wish it. What do you happen to mean?' - -'Aw, quit yer kiddin'!' He expectorated again. He seemed to be a -man who could express the whole gamut of emotions by this simple -means. 'I know you!' - -'Then you have the advantage of me, though I believe I remember -seeing you before. Weren't you at the "Feathers" one Wednesday -evening, singing something about a dog?' - -'Sure. Dat was me.' - -'What do you mean by saying that you know me?' - -'Aw, quit yer kiddin', Sam!' - -There was, it seemed to me, a reluctantly admiring note in his -voice. - -'Tell me, who do you think I am?' I asked patiently. - -'Ahr ghee! You can't string me, sport. Smooth Sam Fisher, is who -you are, bo. I know you.' - -I was too surprised to speak. Verily, some have greatness thrust -upon them. - -'I hain't never seen youse, Sam,' he continued, 'but I know it's -you. And I'll tell youse how I doped it out. To begin with, there -ain't but you and your bunch and me and my bunch dat knows de -Little Nugget's on dis side at all. Dey sneaked him out of New -York mighty slick. And I heard that you had come here after him. -So when I runs into a guy dat's trailin' de kid down here, well, -who's it going to be if it ain't youse? And when dat guy talks -like a dude, like they all say you do, well, who's it going to be -if it ain't youse? So quit yer kiddin', Sam, and let's get down to -business.' - -'Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr Buck MacGinnis?' I said. I -felt convinced that this could be no other than that celebrity. - -'Dat's right. Dere's no need to keep up anyt'ing wit me, Sam. -We're bote on de same trail, so let's get down to it.' - -'One moment,' I said. 'Would it surprise you to hear that my name -is Burns, and that I am a master at the school?' - -He expectorated admirably. - -'Hell, no!' he said. 'Gee, it's just what you would be, Sam. I -always heard youse had been one of dese rah-rah boys oncest. Say, -it's mighty smart of youse to be a perfessor. You're right in on -de ground floor.' - -His voice became appealing. - -'Say, Sam, don't be a hawg. Let's go fifty-fifty in dis deal. My -bunch and me has come a hell of a number of miles on dis -proposition, and dere ain't no need for us to fall scrappin' over -it. Dere's plenty for all of us. Old man Ford'll cough up enough -for every one, and dere won't be any fuss. Let's sit in togedder -on dis nuggett'ing. It ain't like as if it was an ornery two-by-four -deal. I wouldn't ask youse if it wasn't big enough fir de whole -bunch of us.' - -As I said nothing, he proceeded. - -'It ain't square, Sam, to take advantage of your having education. -If it was a square fight, and us bote wit de same chance, I -wouldn't say; but you bein' a dude perfessor and gettin' right -into de place like dat ain't right. Say, don't be a hawg, Sam. -Don't swipe it all. Fifty-fifty! Does dat go?' - -'I don't know,' I said. 'You had better ask the real Sam. Good -night.' - -I walked past him and made for the school gates at my best pace. -He trotted after me, pleading. - -'Sam, give us a quarter, then.' - -I walked on. - -'Sam, don't be a hawg!' - -He broke into a run. - -'Sam!' His voice lost its pleading tone and rasped menacingly. - -'Gee, if I had me canister, youse wouldn't be so flip! Listen -here, you big cheese! You t'ink youse is de only t'ing in sight, -huh? Well, we ain't done yet. You'll see yet. We'll fix you! Youse -had best watch out.' - -I stopped and turned on him. 'Look here, you fool,' I cried. 'I -tell you I am not Sam Fisher. Can't you understand that you have -got hold of the wrong man? My name is Burns--_Burns_.' - -He expectorated--scornfully this time. He was a man slow by nature -to receive ideas, but slower to rid himself of one that had -contrived to force its way into what he probably called his brain. -He had decided on the evidence that I was Smooth Sam Fisher, and -no denials on my part were going to shake his belief. He looked on -them merely as so many unsportsmanlike quibbles prompted by greed. - -'Tell it to Sweeney!' was the form in which he crystallized his -scepticism. - -'May be you'll say youse ain't trailin' de Nugget, huh?' - -It was a home-thrust. If truth-telling has become a habit, one -gets slowly off the mark when the moment arrives for the prudent -lie. Quite against my will, I hesitated. Observant Mr MacGinnis -perceived my hesitation and expectorated triumphantly. - -'Ah ghee!' he remarked. And then with a sudden return to ferocity, -'All right, you Sam, you wait! We'll fix you, and fix you good! -See? Dat goes. You t'ink youse kin put it across us, huh? All -right, you'll get yours. You wait!' - -And with these words he slid off into the night. From somewhere in -the murky middle distance came a scornful 'Hawg!' and he was gone, -leaving me with a settled conviction that, while I had frequently -had occasion, since my expedition to Sanstead began, to describe -affairs as complex, their complexity had now reached its height. -With a watchful Pinkerton's man within, and a vengeful gang of -rivals without, Sanstead House seemed likely to become an -unrestful place for a young kidnapper with no previous experience. - -The need for swift action had become imperative. - - -II - -White, the butler, looking singularly unlike a detective--which, I -suppose, is how a detective wants to look--was taking the air on -the football field when I left the house next morning for a -before-breakfast stroll. The sight of him filled me with a desire -for first-hand information on the subject of the man Mr MacGinnis -supposed me to be and also of Mr MacGinnis himself. I wanted to be -assured that my friend Buck, despite appearances, was a placid -person whose bark was worse than his bite. - -White's manner, at our first conversational exchanges, was -entirely that of the butler. From what I came to know of him -later, I think he took an artistic pride in throwing himself into -whatever role he had to assume. - -At the mention of Smooth Sam Fisher, however, his manner peeled -off him like a skin, and he began to talk as himself, a racy and -vigorous self vastly different from the episcopal person he -thought it necessary to be when on duty. - -'White,' I said, 'do you know anything of Smooth Sam Fisher?' - -He stared at me. I suppose the question, led up to by no previous -remark, was unusual. - -'I met a gentleman of the name of Buck MacGinnis--he was our -visitor that night, by the way--and he was full of Sam. Do you -know him?' - -'Buck?' - -'Either of them.' - -'Well, I've never seen Buck, but I know all about him. There's -pepper to Buck.' - -'So I should imagine. And Sam?' - -'You may take it from me that there's more pepper to Sam's little -finger than there is to Buck's whole body. Sam could make Buck -look like the last run of shad, if it came to a showdown. Buck's -just a common roughneck. Sam's an educated man. He's got brains.' - -'So I gathered. Well, I'm glad to hear you speak so well of him, -because that's who I'm supposed to be.' - -'How's that?' - -'Buck MacGinnis insists that I am Smooth Sam Fisher. Nothing I can -say will shift him.' - -White stared. He had very bright humorous brown eyes. Then he -began to laugh. - -'Well, what do you know about that?' he exclaimed. 'Wouldn't that -jar you!' - -'It would. I may say it did. He called me a hog for wanting to -keep the Little Nugget to myself, and left threatening to "fix -me". What would you say the verb "to fix" signified in Mr -MacGinnis's vocabulary?' - -White was still chuckling quietly to himself. - -'He's a wonder!' he observed. 'Can you beat it? Taking you for -Smooth Sam!' - -'He said he had never seen Smooth Sam. Have you?' - -'Lord, yes.' - -'Does he look like me?' - -'Not a bit.' - -'Do you think he's over here in England?' - -'Sam? I know he is.' - -'Then Buck MacGinnis was right?' - -'Dead right, as far as Sam being on the trail goes. Sam's after -the Nugget to get him this time. He's tried often enough before, -but we've been too smart for him. This time he allows he's going -to bring it off.' - -'Then why haven't we seen anything of him? Buck MacGinnis seems to -be monopolizing the kidnapping industry in these parts.' - -'Oh, Sam'll show up when he feels good and ready. You can take it -from me that Sam knows what he is doing. Sam's a special pet of -mine. I don't give a flip for Buck MacGinnis.' - -'I wish I had your cheery disposition! To me Buck MacGinnis seems -a pretty important citizen. I wonder what he meant by "fix"?' - -White, however, declined to leave the subject of Buck's more -gifted rival. - -'Sam's a college man, you know. That gives him a pull. He has -brains, and can use them.' - -'That was one of the points on which Buck MacGinnis reproached me. -He said it was not fair to use my superior education.' - -He laughed. - -'Buck's got no sense. That's why you find him carrying on like a -porch-climber. It's his only notion of how to behave when he wants -to do a job. And that's why there's only one man to keep your eye -on in this thing of the Little Nugget, and that's Sam. I wish you -could get to know Sam. You'd like him.' - -'You seem to look on him as a personal friend. I certainly don't -like Buck.' - -'Oh, Buck!' said White scornfully. - -We turned towards the house as the sound of the bell came to us -across the field. - -'Then you think we may count on Sam's arrival, sooner or later, as -a certainty?' I said. - -'Surest thing you know.' - -'You will have a busy time.' - -'All in the day's work.' - -'I suppose I ought to look at it in that way. But I do wish I knew -exactly what Buck meant by "fix".' - -White at last condescended to give his mind to the trivial point. - -'I guess he'll try to put one over on you with a sand-bag,' he -said carelessly. He seemed to face the prospect with calm. - -'A sand-bag, eh?' I said. 'It sounds exciting.' - -'And feels it. I know. I've had some.' - -I parted from him at the door. As a comforter he had failed to -qualify. He had not eased my mind to the slightest extent. - - - - -Chapter 7 - - -Looking at it now I can see that the days which followed Audrey's -arrival at Sanstead marked the true beginning of our acquaintanceship. -Before, during our engagement, we had been strangers, artificially -tied together, and she had struggled against the chain. But now, -for the first time, we were beginning to know each other, and were -discovering that, after all, we had much in common. - -It did not alarm me, this growing feeling of comradeship. Keenly -on the alert as I was for the least sign that would show that I -was in danger of weakening in my loyalty to Cynthia, I did not -detect one in my friendliness for Audrey. On the contrary, I was -hugely relieved, for it seemed to me that the danger was past. I -had not imagined it possible that I could ever experience towards -her such a tranquil emotion as this easy friendliness. For the -last five years my imagination had been playing round her memory, -until I suppose I had built up in my mind some almost superhuman -image, some goddess. What I was passing through now, of course, -though I was unaware of it, was the natural reaction from that -state of mind. Instead of the goddess, I had found a companionable -human being, and I imagined that I had effected the change myself, -and by sheer force of will brought Audrey into a reasonable -relation to the scheme of things. - -I suppose a not too intelligent moth has much the same views with -regard to the lamp. His last thought, as he enters the flame, is -probably one of self-congratulation that he has arranged his -dealings with it on such a satisfactory commonsense basis. - -And then, when I was feeling particularly safe and complacent, -disaster came. - -The day was Wednesday, and my 'afternoon off', but the rain was -driving against the windows, and the attractions of billiards with -the marker at the 'Feathers' had not proved sufficient to make me -face the two-mile walk in the storm. I had settled myself in the -study. There was a noble fire burning in the grate, and the -darkness lit by the glow of the coals, the dripping of the rain, -the good behaviour of my pipe, and the reflection that, as I sat -there, Glossop was engaged downstairs in wrestling with my class, -combined to steep me in a meditative peace. Audrey was playing the -piano in the drawing-room. The sound came to me faintly through -the closed doors. I recognized what she was playing. I wondered if -the melody had the same associations for her that it had for me. - -The music stopped. I heard the drawing-room door open. She came -into the study. - -'I didn't know there was anyone here,' she said. 'I'm frozen. The -drawing-room fire's out.' - -'Come and sit down,' I said. 'You don't mind the smoke?' - -I drew a chair up to the fire for her, feeling, as I did so, a -certain pride. Here I was, alone with her in the firelight, and my -pulse was regular and my brain cool. I had a momentary vision of -myself as the Strong Man, the strong, quiet man with the iron grip -on his emotions. I was pleased with myself. - -She sat for some minutes, gazing into the fire. Little spurts of -flame whistled comfortably in the heart of the black-red coals. -Outside the storm shrieked faintly, and flurries of rain dashed -themselves against the window. - -'It's very nice in here,' she said at last. - -'Peaceful.' - -I filled my pipe and re-lit it. Her eyes, seen for an instant in -the light of the match, looked dreamy. - -'I've been sitting here listening to you,' I said. 'I liked that -last thing you played.' - -'You always did.' - -'You remember that? Do you remember one evening--no, you -wouldn't.' - -'Which evening?' - -'Oh, you wouldn't remember. It's only one particular evening when -you played that thing. It sticks in my mind. It was at your -father's studio.' - -She looked up quickly. - -'We went out afterwards and sat in the park.' - -I sat up thrilled. - -'A man came by with a dog,' I said. - -'Two dogs.' - -'One surely!' - -'Two. A bull-dog and a fox-terrier.' - -'I remember the bull-dog, but--by Jove, you're right. A fox-terrier -with a black patch over his left eye.' - -'Right eye.' - -'Right eye. They came up to us, and you--' - -'Gave them chocolates.' - -I sank back slowly in my chair. - -'You've got a wonderful memory,' I said. - -She bent over the fire without speaking. The rain rattled on the -window. - -'So you still like my playing, Peter?' - -'I like it better than ever; there's something in it now that I -don't believe there used to be. I can't describe it--something--' - -'I think it's knowledge, Peter,' she said quietly. 'Experience. -I'm five years older than I was when I used to play to you before, -and I've seen a good deal in those five years. It may not be -altogether pleasant seeing life, but--well, it makes you play the -piano better. Experience goes in at the heart and comes out at the -finger-tips.' - -It seemed to me that she spoke a little bitterly. - -'Have you had a bad time, Audrey, these last years?' I said. - -'Pretty bad.' - -'I'm sorry.' - -'I'm not--altogether. I've learned a lot.' - -She was silent again, her eyes fixed on the fire. - -'What are you thinking about?' I said. - -'Oh, a great many things.' - -'Pleasant?' - -'Mixed. The last thing I thought about was pleasant. That was, -that I am very lucky to be doing the work I am doing now. Compared -with some of the things I have done--' - -She shivered. - -'I wish you would tell me about those years, Audrey,' I said. -'What were some of the things you did?' - -She leaned back in her chair and shaded her face from the fire -with a newspaper. Her eyes were in the shadow. - -'Well, let me see. I was a nurse for some time at the Lafayette -Hospital in New York.' - -'That's hard work?' - -'Horribly hard. I had to give it up after a while. But--it teaches -you.... You learn.... You learn--all sorts of things. Realities. -How much of your own trouble is imagination. You get real trouble -in a hospital. You get it thrown at you.' - -I said nothing. I was feeling--I don't know why--a little -uncomfortable, a little at a disadvantage, as one feels in the -presence of some one bigger than oneself. - -'Then I was a waitress.' - -'A waitress?' - -'I tell you I did everything. I was a waitress, and a very bad -one. I broke plates. I muddled orders. Finally I was very rude to -a customer and I went on to try something else. I forget what came -next. I think it was the stage. I travelled for a year with a -touring company. That was hard work, too, but I liked it. After -that came dressmaking, which was harder and which I hated. And -then I had my first stroke of real luck.' - -'What was that?' - -'I met Mr Ford.' - -'How did that happen?' - -'You wouldn't remember a Miss Vanderley, an American girl who was -over in London five or six years ago? My father taught her -painting. She was very rich, but she was wild at that time to be -Bohemian. I think that's why she chose Father as a teacher. Well, -she was always at the studio, and we became great friends, and one -day, after all these things I have been telling you of, I thought -I would write to her, and see if she could not find me something -to do. She was a _dear_.' Her voice trembled, and she lowered -the newspaper till her whole face was hidden. 'She wanted me to -come to their home and live on her for ever, but I couldn't have -that. I told her I must work. So she sent me to Mr Ford, whom the -Vanderleys knew very well, and I became Ogden's governess.' - -'Great Scott!' I cried. 'What!' - -She laughed rather shakily. - -'I don't think I was a very good governess. I knew next to -nothing. I ought to have been having a governess myself. But I -managed somehow.' - -'But Ogden?' I said. 'That little fiend, didn't he worry the life -out of you?' - -'Oh, I had luck there again. He happened to take a mild liking to -me, and he was as good as gold--for him; that's to say, if I -didn't interfere with him too much, and I didn't. I was horribly -weak; he let me alone. It was the happiest time I had had for -ages.' - -'And when he came here, you came too, as a sort of ex-governess, -to continue exerting your moral influence over him?' - -She laughed. - -'More or less that.' - -We sat in silence for a while, and then she put into words the -thought which was in both our minds. - -'How odd it seems, you and I sitting together chatting like this, -Peter, after all--all these years.' - -'Like a dream!' - -'Just like a dream ... I'm so glad.... You don't know how I've -hated myself sometimes for--for--' - -'Audrey! You mustn't talk like that. Don't let's think of it. -Besides, it was my fault.' - -She shook her head. - -'Well, put it that we didn't understand one another.' - -She nodded slowly. - -'No, we didn't understand one another.' - -'But we do now,' I said. 'We're friends, Audrey.' - -She did not answer. For a long time we sat in silence. And then the -newspaper must have moved--a gleam from the fire fell upon her face, -lighting up her eyes; and at the sight something in me began to -throb, like a drum warning a city against danger. The next moment -the shadow had covered them again. - -I sat there, tense, gripping the arms of my chair. I was tingling. -Something was happening to me. I had a curious sensation of being -on the threshold of something wonderful and perilous. - -From downstairs there came the sound of boys' voices. Work was -over, and with it this talk by the firelight. In a few minutes -somebody, Glossop, or Mr Abney, would be breaking in on our -retreat. - -We both rose, and then--it happened. She must have tripped in the -darkness. She stumbled forward, her hand caught at my coat, and -she was in my arms. - -It was a thing of an instant. She recovered herself, moved to the -door, and was gone. - -But I stood where I was, motionless, aghast at the revelation -which had come to me in that brief moment. It was the physical -contact, the feel of her, warm and alive, that had shattered for -ever that flimsy structure of friendship which I had fancied so -strong. I had said to Love, 'Thus far, and no farther', and Love -had swept over me, the more powerful for being checked. The time -of self-deception was over. I knew myself. - - - - -Chapter 8 - - -I - -That Buck MacGinnis was not the man to let the grass grow under -his feet in a situation like the present one, I would have -gathered from White's remarks if I had not already done so from -personal observation. The world is divided into dreamers and men -of action. From what little I had seen of him I placed Buck -MacGinnis in the latter class. Every day I expected him to act, -and was agreeably surprised as each twenty-four hours passed and -left me still unfixed. But I knew the hour would come, and it did. - -I looked for frontal attack from Buck, not subtlety; but, when the -attack came, it was so excessively frontal that my chief emotion -was a sort of paralysed amazement. It seemed incredible that such -peculiarly Wild Western events could happen in peaceful England, -even in so isolated a spot as Sanstead House. - -It had been one of those interminable days which occur only at -schools. A school, more than any other institution, is dependent -on the weather. Every small boy rises from his bed of a morning -charged with a definite quantity of devilry; and this, if he is to -sleep the sound sleep of health, he has got to work off somehow -before bedtime. That is why the summer term is the one a master -longs for, when the intervals between classes can be spent in the -open. There is no pleasanter sight for an assistant-master at a -private school than that of a number of boys expending their venom -harmlessly in the sunshine. - -On this particular day, snow had begun to fall early in the -morning, and, while his pupils would have been only too delighted -to go out and roll in it by the hour, they were prevented from -doing so by Mr Abney's strict orders. No schoolmaster enjoys -seeing his pupils running risks of catching cold, and just then Mr -Abney was especially definite on the subject. The Saturnalia which -had followed Mr MacGinnis' nocturnal visit to the school had had -the effect of giving violent colds to three lords, a baronet, and -the younger son of an honourable. And, in addition to that, Mr -Abney himself, his penetrating tenor changed to a guttural croak, -was in his bed looking on the world with watering eyes. His views, -therefore, on playing in the snow as an occupation for boys were -naturally prejudiced. - -The result was that Glossop and I had to try and keep order among -a mob of small boys, none of whom had had any chance of working -off his superfluous energy. How Glossop fared I can only imagine. -Judging by the fact that I, who usually kept fair order without -excessive effort, was almost overwhelmed, I should fancy he fared -badly. His classroom was on the opposite side of the hall from -mine, and at frequent intervals his voice would penetrate my door, -raised to a frenzied fortissimo. - -Little by little, however, we had won through the day, and the -boys had subsided into comparative quiet over their evening -preparation, when from outside the front door there sounded the -purring of the engine of a large automobile. The bell rang. - -I did not, I remember, pay much attention to this at the moment. I -supposed that somebody from one of the big houses in the -neighbourhood had called, or, taking the lateness of the hour into -consideration, that a motoring party had come, as they did -sometimes--Sanstead House standing some miles from anywhere in the -middle of an intricate system of by-roads--to inquire the way to -Portsmouth or London. If my class had allowed me, I would have -ignored the sound. But for them it supplied just that break in the -monotony of things which they had needed. They welcomed it -vociferously. - -A voice: 'Sir, please, sir, there's a motor outside.' - -Myself (austerely): I know there's a motor outside. Get on with -your work.' - -Various voices: 'Sir, have you ever ridden in a motor?' - -'Sir, my father let me help drive our motor last Easter, sir.' - -'Sir, who do you think it is?' - -An isolated genius (imitating the engine): 'Pr-prr! Pr-prr! Pr-prr!' - -I was on the point of distributing bad marks (the schoolmaster's -stand-by) broadcast, when a curious sound checked me. It followed -directly upon the opening of the front door. I heard White's -footsteps crossing the hall, then the click of the latch, and -then--a sound that I could not define. The closed door of the -classroom deadened it, but for all that it was audible. It -resembled the thud of a falling body, but I knew it could not be -that, for in peaceful England butlers opening front doors did not -fall with thuds. - -My class, eager listeners, found fresh material in the sound for -friendly conversation. - -'Sir, what was that, sir?' - -'Did you hear that, sir?' - -'What do you think's happened, sir?' - -'Be quiet,' I shouted. 'Will you be--' - -There was a quick footstep outside, the door flew open, and on the -threshold stood a short, sturdy man in a motoring coat and cap. -The upper part of his face was covered by a strip of white linen, -with holes for the eyes, and there was a Browning pistol in his -hand. - -It is my belief that, if assistant-masters were allowed to wear -white masks and carry automatic pistols, keeping order in a school -would become child's play. A silence such as no threat of bad -marks had ever been able to produce fell instantaneously upon the -classroom. Out of the corner of my eye, as I turned to face our -visitor, I could see small boys goggling rapturously at this -miraculous realization of all the dreams induced by juvenile -adventure fiction. As far as I could ascertain, on subsequent -inquiry, not one of them felt a tremor of fear. It was all too -tremendously exciting for that. For their exclusive benefit an -illustration from a weekly paper for boys had come to life, and -they had no time to waste in being frightened. - -As for me, I was dazed. Motor bandits may terrorize France, and -desperadoes hold up trains in America, but this was peaceful -England. The fact that Buck MacGinnis was at large in the -neighbourhood did not make the thing any the less incredible. I -had looked on my affair with Buck as a thing of the open air and -the darkness. I had figured him lying in wait in lonely roads, -possibly, even, lurking about the grounds; but in my most -apprehensive moments I had not imagined him calling at the front -door and holding me up with a revolver in my own classroom. - -And yet it was the simple, even the obvious, thing for him to do. -Given an automobile, success was certain. Sanstead House stood -absolutely alone. There was not even a cottage within half a mile. -A train broken down in the middle of the Bad Lands was not more -cut off. - -Consider, too, the peculiar helplessness of a school in such a -case. A school lives on the confidence of parents, a nebulous -foundation which the slightest breath can destroy. Everything -connected with it must be done with exaggerated discretion. I do -not suppose Mr MacGinnis had thought the thing out in all its -bearings, but he could not have made a sounder move if he had been -a Napoleon. Where the owner of an ordinary country-house raided by -masked men can raise the countryside in pursuit, a schoolmaster -must do precisely the opposite. From his point of view, the fewer -people that know of the affair the better. Parents are a jumpy -race. A man may be the ideal schoolmaster, yet will a connection -with melodrama damn him in the eyes of parents. They do not -inquire. They are too panic-stricken for that. Golden-haired -Willie may be receiving the finest education conceivable, yet if -men with Browning pistols are familiar objects at his shrine of -learning they will remove him. Fortunately for schoolmasters it is -seldom that such visitors call upon them. Indeed, I imagine Mr -MacGinnis's effort to have been the first of its kind. - -I do not, as I say, suppose that Buck, whose forte was action -rather than brain-work, had thought all this out. He had trusted -to luck, and luck had stood by him. There would be no raising of -the countryside in his case. On the contrary, I could see Mr Abney -becoming one of the busiest persons on record in his endeavour to -hush the thing up and prevent it getting into the papers. The man -with the pistol spoke. He sighted me--I was standing with my back -to the mantelpiece, parallel with the door--made a sharp turn, and -raised his weapon. - -'Put 'em up, sport,' he said. - -It was not the voice of Buck MacGinnis. I put my hands up. - -'Say, which of dese is de Nugget?' - -He half turned his head to the class. - -'Which of youse kids is Ogden Ford?' - -The class was beyond speech. The silence continued. - -'Ogden Ford is not here,' I said. - -Our visitor had not that simple faith which is so much better than -Norman blood. He did not believe me. Without moving his head he -gave a long whistle. Steps sounded outside. Another, short, sturdy -form, entered the room. - -'He ain't in de odder room,' observed the newcomer. 'I been -rubberin'!' - -This was friend Buck beyond question. I could have recognized his -voice anywhere! - -'Well dis guy,' said the man with the pistol, indicating me, 'says -he ain't here. What's de answer?' - -'Why, it's Sam!' said Buck. 'Howdy, Sam? Pleased to see us, huh? -We're in on de ground floor, too, dis time, all right, all right.' - -His words had a marked effect on his colleague. - -'Is dat Sam? Hell! Let me blow de head off'n him!' he said, with -simple fervour; and, advancing a step nearer, he waved his -disengaged fist truculently. In my role of Sam I had plainly made -myself very unpopular. I have never heard so much emotion packed -into a few words. - -Buck, to my relief, opposed the motion. I thought this decent of -Buck. - -'Cheese it,' he said curtly. - -The other cheesed it. The operation took the form of lowering the -fist. The pistol he kept in position. - -Mr MacGinnis resumed the conduct of affairs. - -'Now den, Sam,' he said, 'come across! Where's de Nugget?' - -'My name is not Sam,' I said. 'May I put my hands down?' - -'Yep, if you want the top of your damn head blown off.' - -Such was not my desire. I kept them up. - -'Now den, you Sam,' said Mr MacGinnis again, 'we ain't got time to -burn. Out with it. Where's dat Nugget?' - -Some reply was obviously required. It was useless to keep -protesting that I was not Sam. - -'At this time in the evening he is generally working with Mr -Glossop.' - -'Who's Glossop? Dat dough-faced dub in de room over dere?' - -'Exactly. You have described him perfectly.' - -'Well, he ain't dere. I bin rubberin.' Aw, quit yer foolin', Sam, -where is he?' - -'I couldn't tell you just where he is at the present moment,' I -said precisely. - -'Ahr chee! Let me swot him one!' begged the man with the pistol; a -most unlovable person. I could never have made a friend of him. - -'Cheese it, you!' said Mr MacGinnis. - -The other cheesed it once more, regretfully. - -'You got him hidden away somewheres, Sam,' said Mr MacGinnis. 'You -can't fool me. I'm com' t'roo dis joint wit a fine-tooth comb till -I find him.' - -'By all means,' I said. 'Don't let me stop you.' - -'You? You're coming wit me.' - -'If you wish it. I shall be delighted.' - -'An' cut out dat dam' sissy way of talking, you rummy,' bellowed -Buck, with a sudden lapse into ferocity. 'Spiel like a regular -guy! Standin' dere, pullin' dat dude stuff on me! Cut it out!' - -'Say, why _mayn't_ I hand him one?' demanded the pistol-bearer -pathetically. 'What's your kick against pushin' his face in?' - -I thought the question in poor taste. Buck ignored it. - -'Gimme dat canister,' he said, taking the Browning pistol from -him. 'Now den, Sam, are youse goin' to be good, and come across, -or ain't you--which?' - -'I'd be delighted to do anything you wished, Mr MacGinnis,' I -said, 'but--' - -'Aw, hire a hall!' said Buck disgustedly. 'Step lively, den, an' -we'll go t'roo de joint. I t'ought youse 'ud have had more sense, -Sam, dan to play dis fool game when you know you're beat. You--' - -Shooting pains in my shoulders caused me to interrupt him. - -'One moment,' I said. 'I'm going to put my hands down. I'm getting -cramp.' - -'I'll blow a hole in you if you do!' - -'Just as you please. But I'm not armed.' - -'Lefty,' he said to the other man, 'feel around to see if he's -carryin' anyt'ing.' - -Lefty advanced and began to tap me scientifically in the -neighbourhood of my pockets. He grunted morosely the while. I -suppose, at this close range, the temptation to 'hand me one' was -almost more than he could bear. - -'He ain't got no gun,' he announced gloomily. - -'Den youse can put 'em down,' said Mr MacGinnis. - -'Thanks,' I said. - -'Lefty, youse stay here and look after dese kids. Get a move on, -Sam.' - -We left the room, a little procession of two, myself leading, Buck -in my immediate rear administering occasional cautionary prods -with the faithful 'canister'. - - -II - -The first thing that met my eyes as we entered the hall was the -body of a man lying by the front door. The light of the lamp fell -on his face and I saw that it was White. His hands and feet were -tied. As I looked at him, he moved, as if straining against his -bonds, and I was conscious of a feeling of relief. That sound that -had reached me in the classroom, that thud of a falling body, had -become, in the light of what had happened later, very sinister. It -was good to know that he was still alive. I gathered--correctly, -as I discovered subsequently--that in his case the sand-bag had -been utilized. He had been struck down and stunned the instant he -opened the door. - -There was a masked man leaning against the wall by Glossop's -classroom. He was short and sturdy. The Buck MacGinnis gang seemed -to have been turned out on a pattern. Externally, they might all -have been twins. This man, to give him a semblance of individuality, -had a ragged red moustache. He was smoking a cigar with the air of -the warrior taking his rest. - -'Hello!' he said, as we appeared. He jerked a thumb towards the -classroom. 'I've locked dem in. What's doin', Buck?' he asked, -indicating me with a languid nod. - -'We're going t'roo de joint,' explained Mr MacGinnis. 'De kid -ain't in dere. Hump yourself, Sam!' - -His colleague's languor disappeared with magic swiftness. - -'Sam! Is dat Sam? Here, let me beat de block off'n him!' - -Few points in this episode struck me as more remarkable than the -similarity of taste which prevailed, as concerned myself, among -the members of Mr MacGinnis's gang. Men, doubtless of varying -opinions on other subjects, on this one point they were unanimous. -They all wanted to assault me. - -Buck, however, had other uses for me. For the present, I was -necessary as a guide, and my value as such would be impaired were -the block to be beaten off me. Though feeling no friendlier -towards me than did his assistants, he declined to allow sentiment -to interfere with business. He concentrated his attention on the -upward journey with all the earnestness of the young gentleman who -carried the banner with the strange device in the poem. - -Briefly requesting his ally to cheese it--which he did--he urged -me on with the nozzle of the pistol. The red-moustached man sank -back against the wall again with an air of dejection, sucking his -cigar now like one who has had disappointments in life, while we -passed on up the stairs and began to draw the rooms on the first -floor. - -These consisted of Mr Abney's study and two dormitories. The study -was empty, and the only occupants of the dormitories were the -three boys who had been stricken down with colds on the occasion -of Mr MacGinnis's last visit. They squeaked with surprise at the -sight of the assistant-master in such questionable company. - -Buck eyed them disappointedly. I waited with something of the -feelings of a drummer taking a buyer round the sample room. - -'Get on,' said Buck. - -'Won't one of those do?' - -'Hump yourself, Sam.' - -'Call me Sammy,' I urged. 'We're old friends now.' - -'Don't get fresh,' he said austerely. And we moved on. - -The top floor was even more deserted than the first. There was no -one in the dormitories. The only other room was Mr Abney's; and, -as we came opposite it, a sneeze from within told of the -sufferings of its occupant. - -The sound stirred Buck to his depths. He 'pointed' at the door -like a smell-dog. - -'Who's in dere?' he demanded. - -'Only Mr Abney. Better not disturb him. He has a bad cold.' - -He placed a wrong construction on my solicitude for my employer. -His manner became excited. - -'Open dat door, you,' he cried. - -'It'll give him a nasty shock.' - -'G'wan! Open it!' - -No one who is digging a Browning pistol into the small of my back -will ever find me disobliging. I opened the door--knocking first, -as a mild concession to the conventions--and the procession passed -in. - -My stricken employer was lying on his back, staring at the -ceiling, and our entrance did not at first cause him to change -this position. - -'Yes?' he said thickly, and disappeared beneath a huge -pocket-handkerchief. Muffled sounds, as of distant explosions of -dynamite, together with earthquake shudderings of the bedclothes, -told of another sneezing-fit. - -'I'm sorry to disturb you,' I began, when Buck, ever the man of -action, with a scorn of palaver, strode past me, and, having -prodded with the pistol that part of the bedclothes beneath which -a rough calculation suggested that Mr Abney's lower ribs were -concealed, uttered the one word, 'Sa-a-ay!' - -Mr Abney sat up like a Jack-in-the-box. One might almost say that -he shot up. And then he saw Buck. - -I cannot even faintly imagine what were Mr Abney's emotions at -that moment. He was a man who, from boyhood up, had led a quiet -and regular life. Things like Buck had appeared to him hitherto, -if they appeared at all, only in dreams after injudicious suppers. -Even in the ordinary costume of the Bowery gentleman, without such -adventitious extras as masks and pistols, Buck was no beauty. With -that hideous strip of dingy white linen on his face, he was a -walking nightmare. - -Mr Abney's eyebrows had risen and his jaw had fallen to their -uttermost limits. His hair, disturbed by contact with the pillow, -gave the impression of standing on end. His eyes seemed to bulge -like a snail's. He stared at Buck, fascinated. - -'Say, you, quit rubberin'. Youse ain't in a dime museum. Where's -dat Ford kid, huh?' - -I have set down all Mr MacGinnis's remarks as if they had been -uttered in a bell-like voice with a clear and crisp enunciation; -but, in doing so, I have flattered him. In reality, his mode of -speech suggested that he had something large and unwieldy -permanently stuck in his mouth; and it was not easy for a stranger -to follow him. Mr Abney signally failed to do so. He continued to -gape helplessly till the tension was broken by a sneeze. - -One cannot interrogate a sneezing man with any satisfaction to -oneself. Buck stood by the bedside in moody silence, waiting for -the paroxysm to spend itself. - -I, meanwhile, had remained where I stood, close to the door. And, -as I waited for Mr Abney to finish sneezing, for the first time -since Buck's colleague Lefty had entered the classroom the idea of -action occurred to me. Until this moment, I suppose, the -strangeness and unexpectedness of these happenings had numbed my -brain. To precede Buck meekly upstairs and to wait with equal -meekness while he interviewed Mr Abney had seemed the only course -open to me. To one whose life has lain apart from such things, the -hypnotic influence of a Browning pistol is irresistible. - -But now, freed temporarily from this influence, I began to think; -and, my mind making up for its previous inaction by working with -unwonted swiftness, I formed a plan of action at once. - -It was simple, but I had an idea that it would be effective. My -strength lay in my acquaintance with the geography of Sanstead -House and Buck's ignorance of it. Let me but get an adequate -start, and he might find pursuit vain. It was this start which I -saw my way to achieving. - -To Buck it had not yet occurred that it was a tactical error to -leave me between the door and himself. I supposed he relied too -implicitly on the mesmeric pistol. He was not even looking at me. - -The next moment my fingers were on the switch of the electric -light, and the room was in darkness. - -There was a chair by the door. I seized it and swung it into the -space between us. Then, springing back, I banged the door and ran. - -I did not run without a goal in view. My objective was the study. -This, as I have explained, was on the first floor. Its window -looked out on to a strip of lawn at the side of the house ending -in a shrubbery. The drop would not be pleasant, but I seemed to -remember a waterspout that ran up the wall close to the window, -and, in any case, I was not in a position to be deterred by the -prospect of a bruise or two. I had not failed to realize that my -position was one of extreme peril. When Buck, concluding the tour -of the house, found that the Little Nugget was not there--as I had -reason to know that he would--there was no room for doubt that he -would withdraw the protection which he had extended to me up to -the present in my capacity of guide. On me the disappointed fury -of the raiders would fall. No prudent consideration for their own -safety would restrain them. If ever the future was revealed to -man, I saw mine. My only chance was to get out into the grounds, -where the darkness would make pursuit an impossibility. - -It was an affair which must be settled one way or the other in a -few seconds, and I calculated that it would take Buck just those -few seconds to win his way past the chair and find the door-handle. - -I was right. Just as I reached the study, the door of the bedroom -flew open, and the house rang with shouts and the noise of feet on -the uncarpeted landing. From the hall below came answering shouts, -but with an interrogatory note in them. The assistants were -willing, but puzzled. They did not like to leave their posts -without specific instructions, and Buck, shouting as he clattered -over the bare boards, was unintelligible. - -I was in the study, the door locked behind me, before they could -arrive at an understanding. I sprang to the window. - -The handle rattled. Voices shouted. A panel splintered beneath a -kick, and the door shook on its hinges. - -And then, for the first time, I think, in my life, panic gripped -me, the sheer, blind fear which destroys the reason. It swept over -me in a wave, that numbing terror which comes to one in dreams. -Indeed, the thing had become dream-like. I seemed to be standing -outside myself, looking on at myself, watching myself heave and -strain with bruised fingers at a window that would not open. - - -III - -The arm-chair critic, reviewing a situation calmly and at his -ease, is apt to make too small allowances for the effect of hurry -and excitement on the human mind. He is cool and detached. He sees -exactly what ought to have been done, and by what simple means -catastrophe might have been averted. - -He would have made short work of my present difficulty, I feel -certain. It was ridiculously simple. But I had lost my head, and -had ceased for the moment to be a reasoning creature. In the end, -indeed, it was no presence of mind but pure good luck which saved -me. Just as the door, which had held out gallantly, gave way -beneath the attack from outside, my fingers, slipping, struck -against the catch of the window, and I understood why I had failed -to raise it. - -I snapped the catch back, and flung up the sash. An icy wind swept -into the room, bearing particles of snow. I scrambled on to the -window-sill, and a crash from behind me told of the falling of the -door. - -The packed snow on the sill was drenching my knees as I worked my -way out and prepared to drop. There was a deafening explosion -inside the room, and simultaneously something seared my shoulder -like a hot iron. I cried out with the pain of it, and, losing my -balance, fell from the sill. - -There was, fortunately for me, a laurel bush immediately below the -window, or I should have been undone. I fell into it, all arms and -legs, in a way which would have meant broken bones if I had struck -the hard turf. I was on my feet in an instant, shaken and -scratched and, incidentally, in a worse temper than ever in my -life before. The idea of flight, which had obsessed me a moment -before, to the exclusion of all other mundane affairs, had -vanished absolutely. I was full of fight, I might say overflowing -with it. I remember standing there, with the snow trickling in -chilly rivulets down my face and neck, and shaking my fist at the -window. Two of my pursuers were leaning out of it, while a third -dodged behind them, like a small man on the outskirts of a crowd. -So far from being thankful for my escape, I was conscious only of -a feeling of regret that there was no immediate way of getting at -them. - -They made no move towards travelling the quick but trying route -which had commended itself to me. They seemed to be waiting for -something to happen. It was not long before I was made aware of -what this something was. From the direction of the front door came -the sound of one running. A sudden diminution of the noise of his -feet told me that he had left the gravel and was on the turf. I -drew back a pace or two and waited. - -It was pitch dark, and I had no fear that I should be seen. I was -standing well outside the light from the window. - -The man stopped just in front of me. A short parley followed. - -'Can'tja see him?' - -The voice was not Buck's. It was Buck who answered. And when I -realized that this man in front of me, within easy reach, on whose -back I was shortly about to spring, and whose neck I proposed, -under Providence, to twist into the shape of a corkscrew, was no -mere underling, but Mr MacGinnis himself, I was filled with a joy -which I found it hard to contain in silence. - -Looking back, I am a little sorry for Mr MacGinnis. He was not a -good man. His mode of speech was not pleasant, and his manners -were worse than his speech. But, though he undoubtedly deserved -all that was coming to him, it was nevertheless bad luck for him -to be standing just there at just that moment. The reactions after -my panic, added to the pain of my shoulder, the scratches on my -face, and the general misery of being wet and cold, had given me a -reckless fury and a determination to do somebody, whoever happened -to come along, grievous bodily hurt, such as seldom invades the -bosoms of the normally peaceful. To put it crisply, I was fighting -mad, and I looked on Buck as something sent by Heaven. - -He had got as far, in his reply, as 'Naw, I can't--' when I -sprang. - -I have read of the spring of the jaguar, and I have seen some very -creditable flying-tackles made on the football field. My leap -combined the outstanding qualities of both. I connected with Mr -MacGinnis in the region of the waist, and the howl he gave as we -crashed to the ground was music to my ears. - -But how true is the old Roman saying, _'Surgit amari aliquid'_. -Our pleasures are never perfect. There is always something. In the -programme which I had hastily mapped out, the upsetting of Mr -MacGinnis was but a small item, a mere preliminary. There were a -number of things which I had wished to do to him, once upset. But -it was not to be. Even as I reached for his throat I perceived that -the light of the window was undergoing an eclipse. A compact form -had wriggled out on to the sill, as I had done, and I heard the -grating of his shoes on the wall as he lowered himself for the drop. - -There is a moment when the pleasantest functions must come to -an end. I was loath to part from Mr MacGinnis just when I was -beginning, as it were, to do myself justice; but it was unavoidable. -In another moment his ally would descend upon us, like some Homeric -god swooping from a cloud, and I was not prepared to continue the -battle against odds. - -I disengaged myself--Mr MacGinnis strangely quiescent during the -process--and was on my feet in the safety of the darkness just as -the reinforcement touched earth. This time I did not wait. My -hunger for fight had been appeased to some extent by my brush with -Buck, and I was satisfied to have achieved safety with honour. - -Making a wide detour I crossed the drive and worked my way through -the bushes to within a few yards of where the automobile stood, -filling the night with the soft purring of its engines. I was -interested to see what would be the enemy's next move. It was -improbable that they would attempt to draw the grounds in search -of me. I imagined that they would recognize failure and retire -whence they had come. - -I was right. I had not been watching long, before a little group -advanced into the light of the automobile's lamps. There were four -of them. Three were walking, the fourth, cursing with the vigour -and breadth that marks the expert, lying on their arms, of which -they had made something resembling a stretcher. - -The driver of the car, who had been sitting woodenly in his seat, -turned at the sound. - -'Ja get him?' he inquired. - -'Get nothing!' replied one of the three moodily. 'De Nugget ain't -dere, an' we was chasin' Sam to fix him, an' he laid for us, an' -what he did to Buck was plenty.' - -They placed their valuable burden in the tonneau, where he lay -repeating himself, and two of them climbed in after him. The third -seated himself beside the driver. - -'Buck's leg's broke,' he announced. - -'Hell!' said the chauffeur. - -No young actor, receiving his first round of applause, could have -felt a keener thrill of gratification than I did at those words. -Life may have nobler triumphs than the breaking of a kidnapper's -leg, but I did not think so then. It was with an effort that I -stopped myself from cheering. - -'Let her go,' said the man in the front seat. - -The purring rose to a roar. The car turned and began to move with -increasing speed down the drive. Its drone grew fainter, and -ceased. I brushed the snow from my coat and walked to the front -door. - -My first act on entering the house, was to release White. He was -still lying where I had seen him last. He appeared to have made no -headway with the cords on his wrists and ankles. I came to his -help with a rather blunt pocket-knife, and he rose stiffly and -began to chafe the injured arms in silence. - -'They've gone,' I said. - -He nodded. - -'Did they hit you with a sand-bag?' - -He nodded again. - -'I broke Buck's leg,' I said, with modest pride. - -He looked up incredulously. I related my experiences as briefly -as possible, and when I came to the part where I made my flying -tackle, the gloom was swept from his face by a joyful smile. Buck's -injury may have given its recipient pain, but it was certainly the -cause of pleasure to others. White's manner was one of the utmost -enthusiasm as I described the scene. - -'That'll hold Buck for a while,' was his comment. 'I guess we -shan't hear from _him_ for a week or two. That's the best cure -for the headache I've ever struck.' - -He rubbed the lump that just showed beneath his hair. I did not -wonder at his emotion. Whoever had wielded the sand-bag had done -his work well, in a manner to cause hard feelings on the part of -the victim. - -I had been vaguely conscious during this conversation of an -intermittent noise like distant thunder. I now perceived that it -came from Glossop's classroom, and was caused by the beating of -hands on the door-panels. I remembered that the red-moustached man -had locked Glossop and his young charges in. It seemed to me that -he had done well. There would be plenty of confusion without their -assistance. - -I was turning towards my own classroom when I saw Audrey on the -stairs and went to meet her. - -'It's all right,' I said. 'They've gone.' - -'Who was it? What did they want?' - -'It was a gentleman named MacGinnis and some friends. They came -after Ogden Ford, but they didn't get him.' - -'Where is he? Where is Ogden?' - -Before I could reply, babel broke loose. While we had been -talking, White had injudiciously turned the key of Glossop's -classroom which now disgorged its occupants, headed by my -colleague, in a turbulent stream. At the same moment my own -classroom began to empty itself. The hall was packed with boys, -and the din became deafening. Every one had something to say, and -they all said it at once. - -Glossop was at my side, semaphoring violently. - -'We must telephone,' he bellowed in my ear, 'for the police.' - -Somebody tugged at my arm. It was Audrey. She was saying something -which was drowned in the uproar. I drew her towards the stairs, -and we found comparative quiet on the first landing. - -'What were you saying?' I asked. - -'He isn't there.' - -'Who?' - -'Ogden Ford. Where is he? He is not in his room. They must have -taken him.' - -Glossop came up at a gallop, springing from stair to stair like -the chamois of the Alps. - -'We must telephone for the police!' he cried. - -'I have telephoned,' said Audrey, 'ten minutes ago. They are -sending some men at once. Mr Glossop, was Ogden Ford in your -classroom?' - -'No, Mrs Sheridan. I thought he was with you, Burns.' - -I shook my head. - -'Those men came to kidnap him, Mr Glossop,' said Audrey. - -'Undoubtedly the gang of scoundrels to which that man the other -night belonged! This is preposterous. My nerves will not stand -these repeated outrages. We must have police protection. The -villains must be brought to justice. I never heard of such a -thing! In an English school!' - -Glossop's eyes gleamed agitatedly behind their spectacles. -Macbeth's deportment when confronted with Banquo's ghost was -stolid by comparison. There was no doubt that Buck's visit had -upset the smooth peace of our happy little community to quite a -considerable extent. - -The noise in the hall had increased rather than subsided. A -belated sense of professional duty returned to Glossop and myself. -We descended the stairs and began to do our best, in our -respective styles, to produce order. It was not an easy task. -Small boys are always prone to make a noise, even without -provocation. When they get a genuine excuse like the incursion of -men in white masks, who prod assistant-masters in the small of the -back with Browning pistols, they tend to eclipse themselves. I -doubt whether we should ever have quieted them, had it not been -that the hour of Buck's visit had chanced to fall within a short -time of that set apart for the boys' tea, and that the kitchen had -lain outside the sphere of our visitors' operations. As in many -English country houses, the kitchen at Sanstead House was at the -end of a long corridor, shut off by doors through which even -pistol-shots penetrated but faintly. Our excellent cook had, -moreover, the misfortune to be somewhat deaf, with the result -that, throughout all the storm and stress in our part of the -house, she, like the lady in Goethe's poem, had gone on cutting -bread and butter; till now, when it seemed that nothing could -quell the uproar, there rose above it the ringing of the bell. - -If there is anything exciting enough to keep the Englishman or the -English boy from his tea, it has yet to be discovered. The -shouting ceased on the instant. The general feeling seemed to be -that inquiries could be postponed till a more suitable occasion, -but not tea. There was a general movement in the direction of the -dining-room. - -Glossop had already gone with the crowd, and I was about to -follow, when there was another ring at the front-door bell. - -I gathered that this must be the police, and waited. In the -impending inquiry I was by way of being a star witness. If any one -had been in the thick of things from the beginning it was myself. - -White opened the door. I caught a glimpse of blue uniforms, and -came forward to do the honours. - -There were two of them, no more. In response to our urgent appeal -for assistance against armed bandits, the Majesty of the Law had -materialized itself in the shape of a stout inspector and a long, -lean constable. I thought, as I came to meet them, that they were -fortunate to have arrived late. I could see Lefty and the -red-moustached man, thwarted in their designs on me, making -dreadful havoc among the official force, as here represented. - -White, the simple butler once more, introduced us. - -'This is Mr Burns, one of the masters at the school,' he said, and -removed himself from the scene. There never was a man like White -for knowing his place when he played the butler. - -The inspector looked at me sharply. The constable gazed into -space. - -'H'm!' said the inspector. - -Mentally I had named them Bones and Johnson. I do not know why, -except that they seemed to deserve it. - -'You telephoned for us,' said Bones accusingly. - -'We did.' - -'What's the trouble? What--got your notebook?--has been -happening?' - -Johnson removed his gaze from the middle distance and produced a -notebook. - -'At about half past five--' I began. - -Johnson moistened his pencil. - -'At about half past five an automobile drove up to the front door. -In it were five masked men with revolvers.' - -I interested them. There was no doubt of that. Bones's healthy -colour deepened, and his eyes grew round. Johnson's pencil raced -over the page, wobbling with emotion. - -'Masked men?' echoed Bones. - -'With revolvers,' I said. 'Now aren't you glad you didn't go to -the circus? They rang the front-door bell; when White opened it, -they stunned him with a sand-bag. Then--' - -Bones held up a large hand. - -'Wait!' - -I waited. - -'Who is White?' - -'The butler.' - -'I will take his statement. Fetch the butler.' - -Johnson trotted off obediently. - -Left alone with me, Bones became friendlier and less official. - -'This is as queer a start as ever I heard of, Mr Burns,' he said. -'Twenty years I've been in the force, and nothing like this has -transpired. It beats cock-fighting. What in the world do you -suppose men with masks and revolvers was after? First idea I had -was that you were making fun of me.' - -I was shocked at the idea. I hastened to give further details. - -'They were a gang of American crooks who had come over to kidnap -Mr Elmer Ford's son, who is a pupil at the school. You have heard -of Mr Ford? He is an American millionaire, and there have been -several attempts during the past few years to kidnap Ogden.' - -At this point Johnson returned with White. White told his story -briefly, exhibited his bruise, showed the marks of the cords on his -wrists, and was dismissed. I suggested that further conversation -had better take place in the presence of Mr Abney, who, I imagined, -would have something to say on the subject of hushing the thing up. - -We went upstairs. The broken door of the study delayed us a while -and led to a fresh spasm of activity on the part of Johnson's -pencil. Having disposed of this, we proceeded to Mr Abney's room. - -Bones's authoritative rap upon the door produced an agitated -'Who's that?' from the occupant. I explained the nature of the -visitation through the keyhole and there came from within the -sound of moving furniture. His one brief interview with Buck had -evidently caused my employer to ensure against a second by -barricading himself in with everything he could find suitable for -the purpose. It was some moments before the way was clear for our -entrance. - -'Cub id,' said a voice at last. - -Mr Abney was sitting up in bed, the blankets wrapped tightly about -him. His appearance was still disordered. The furniture of the -room was in great confusion, and a poker on the floor by the -dressing-table showed that he had been prepared to sell his life -dearly. - -'I ab glad to see you, Idspector,' he said. 'Bister Burds, what is -the expladation of this extraordinary affair?' - -It took some time to explain matters to Mr Abney, and more to -convince Bones and his colleague that, so far from wanting a hue -and cry raised over the countryside and columns about the affair -in the papers, publicity was the thing we were anxious to avoid. -They were visibly disappointed when they grasped the position of -affairs. The thing, properly advertised, would have been the -biggest that had ever happened to the neighbourhood, and their -eager eyes could see glory within easy reach. Mention of a cold -snack and a drop of beer, however, to be found in the kitchen, -served to cast a gleam of brightness on their gloom, and they -vanished in search of it with something approaching cheeriness, -Johnson taking notes to the last. - -They had hardly gone when Glossop whirled into the room in a state -of effervescing agitation. - -'Mr Abney, Ogden Ford is nowhere to be found!' - -Mr Abney greeted the information with a prodigious sneeze. - -'What do you bead?' he demanded, when the paroxysm was over. He -turned to me. 'Bister Burds, I understood you to--ah--say that -the scou'drels took their departure without the boy Ford.' - -'They certainly did. I watched them go.' - -'I have searched the house thoroughly,' said Glossop, 'and there -are no signs of him. And not only that, the Boy Beckford cannot be -found.' - -Mr Abney clasped his head in his hands. Poor man, he was in no -condition to bear up with easy fortitude against this succession -of shocks. He was like one who, having survived an earthquake, is -hit by an automobile. He had partly adjusted his mind to the quiet -contemplation of Mr MacGinnis and friends when he was called upon -to face this fresh disaster. And he had a cold in the head, which -unmans the stoutest. Napoleon would have won Waterloo if -Wellington had had a cold in the head. - -'Augustus Beckford caddot be fou'd?' he echoed feebly. - -'They must have run away together,' said Glossop. - -Mr Abney sat up, galvanized. - -'Such a thing has never happened id the school before!' he cried. -'It has aldways beed my--ah--codstant endeavour to make my boys -look upod Sadstead House as a happy hobe. I have systebatically -edcouraged a spirit of cheerful codtedment. I caddot seriously -credit the fact that Augustus Beckford, one of the bost charbig -boys it has ever beed by good fortude to have id by charge, has -deliberately rud away.' - -'He must have been persuaded by that boy Ford,' said Glossop, -'who,' he added morosely, 'I believe, is the devil in disguise.' - -Mr Abney did not rebuke the strength of his language. Probably the -theory struck him as eminently sound. To me there certainly seemed -something in it. - -'Subbthig bust be done at once!' Mr Abney exclaimed. 'It -is--ah--ibperative that we take ibbediate steps. They bust -have gone to Londod. Bister Burds, you bust go to Londod by the -next traid. I caddot go byself with this cold.' - -It was the irony of fate that, on the one occasion when duty -really summoned that champion popper-up-to-London to the -Metropolis, he should be unable to answer the call. - -'Very well,' I said. 'I'll go and look out a train.' - -'Bister Glossop, you will be in charge of the school. Perhaps you -had better go back to the boys dow.' - -White was in the hall when I got there. - -'White,' I said, 'do you know anything about the trains to -London?' - -'Are you going to London?' he asked, in his more conversational -manner. I thought he looked at me curiously as he spoke. - -'Yes. Ogden Ford and Lord Beckford cannot be found. Mr Abney -thinks they must have run away to London.' - -'I shouldn't wonder,' said White dryly, it seemed to me. There was -something distinctly odd in his manner. 'And you're going after -them.' - -'Yes. I must look up a train.' - -'There is a fast train in an hour. You will have plenty of time.' - -'Will you tell Mr Abney that, while I go and pack my bag? And -telephone for a cab.' - -'Sure,' said White, nodding. - -I went up to my room and began to put a few things together in a -suit-case. I felt happy, for several reasons. A visit to London, -after my arduous weeks at Sanstead, was in the nature of an -unexpected treat. My tastes are metropolitan, and the vision of an -hour at a music-hall--I should be too late for the theatres--with -supper to follow in some restaurant where there was an orchestra, -appealed to me. - -When I returned to the hall, carrying my bag, I found Audrey -there. - -'I'm being sent to London,' I announced. - -'I know. White told me. Peter, bring him back.' - -'That's why I'm being sent.' - -'It means everything to me.' - -I looked at her in surprise. There was a strained, anxious -expression on her face, for which I could not account. I declined -to believe that anybody could care what happened to the Little -Nugget purely for that amiable youth's own sake. Besides, as he -had gone to London willingly, the assumption was that he was -enjoying himself. - -'I don't understand,' I said. 'What do you mean?' - -'I'll tell you. Mr Ford sent me here to be near Ogden, to guard -him. He knew that there was always a danger of attempts being made -to kidnap him, even though he was brought over to England very -quietly. That is how I come to be here. I go wherever Ogden goes. -I am responsible for him. And I have failed. If Ogden is not -brought back, Mr Ford will have nothing more to do with me. He -never forgives failures. It will mean going back to the old work -again--the dressmaking, or the waiting, or whatever I can manage -to find.' She gave a little shiver. 'Peter, I can't. All the pluck -has gone out of me. I'm afraid. I couldn't face all that again. -Bring him back. You must. You will. Say you will.' - -I did not answer. I could find nothing to say; for it was I who -was responsible for all her trouble. I had planned everything. I -had given Ogden Ford the money that had taken him to London. And -soon, unless I could reach London before it happened, and prevent -him, he, with my valet Smith, would be in the Dover boat-train on -his way to Monaco. - - - - -Chapter 9 - - -I - -It was only after many hours of thought that it had flashed upon -me that the simplest and safest way of removing the Little Nugget -was to induce him to remove himself. Once the idea had come, the -rest was simple. The negotiations which had taken place that -morning in the stable-yard had been brief. I suppose a boy in -Ogden's position, with his record of narrow escapes from the -kidnapper, comes to take things as a matter of course which would -startle the ordinary boy. He assumed, I imagine, that I was the -accredited agent of his mother, and that the money which I gave -him for travelling expenses came from her. Perhaps he had been -expecting something of the sort. At any rate, he grasped the -essential points of the scheme with amazing promptitude. His -little hand was extended to receive the cash almost before I had -finished speaking. - -The main outline of my plan was that he should slip away to -London, during the afternoon, go to my rooms, where he would find -Smith, and with Smith travel to his mother at Monaco. I had -written to Smith, bidding him be in readiness for the expedition. -There was no flaw in the scheme as I had mapped it out, and though -Ogden had complicated it a little by gratuitously luring away -Augustus Beckford to bear him company, he had not endangered its -success. - -But now an utterly unforeseen complication had arisen. My one -desire now was to undo everything for which I had been plotting. - -I stood there, looking at her dumbly, hating myself for being the -cause of the anxiety in her eyes. If I had struck her, I could not -have felt more despicable. In my misery I cursed Cynthia for -leading me into this tangle. - -I heard my name spoken, and turned to find White at my elbow. - -'Mr Abney would like to see you, sir.' - -I went upstairs, glad to escape. The tension of the situation had -begun to tear at my nerves. - -'Cub id, Bister Burds,' said my employer, swallowing a lozenge. -His aspect was more dazed than ever. 'White has just bade -an--ah--extraordinary cobbudicatiod to me. It seebs he is in -reality a detective, an employee of Pidkertod's Agedcy, of which -you have, of course--ah--heard.' - -So White had revealed himself. On the whole, I was not surprised. -Certainly his motive for concealment, the fear of making Mr Abney -nervous, was removed. An inrush of Red Indians with tomahawks -could hardly have added greatly to Mr Abney's nervousness at the -present juncture. - -'Sent here by Mr Ford, I suppose?' I said. I had to say something. - -'Exactly. Ah--precisely.' He sneezed. 'Bister Ford, without -codsulting me--I do not cobbedt on the good taste or wisdob of his -actiod--dispatched White to apply for the post of butler at -this--ah--house, his predecessor having left at a bobedt's dotice, -bribed to do so, I strodgly suspect, by Bister Ford himself. I bay -be wrodging Bister Ford, but do dot thig so.' - -I thought the reasoning sound. - -'All thad, however,' resumed Mr Abney, removing his face from a -jug of menthol at which he had been sniffing with the tense -concentration of a dog at a rabbit-hole, 'is beside the poidt. I -berely bedtiod it to explaid why White will accompady you to -London.' - -'What!' - -The exclamation was forced from me by my dismay. This was -appalling. If this infernal detective was to accompany me, my -chance of bringing Ogden back was gone. It had been my intention -to go straight to my rooms, in the hope of finding him not yet -departed. But how was I to explain his presence there to White? - -'I don't think it's necessary, Mr Abney,' I protested. 'I am sure -I can manage this affair by myself.' - -'Two heads are better thad wud,' said the invalid sententiously, -burying his features in the jug once more. - -'Too many cooks spoil the broth,' I replied. If the conversation -was to consist of copybook maxims, I could match him as long as he -pleased. - -He did not keep up the intellectual level of the discussion. - -'Dodseds!' he snapped, with the irritation of a man whose proverb -has been capped by another. I had seldom heard him speak so -sharply. White's revelation had evidently impressed him. He had -all the ordinary peaceful man's reverence for the professional -detective. - -'White will accompany you, Bister Burds,' he said doggedly. - -'Very well,' I said. - -After all, it might be that I should get an opportunity of giving -him the slip. London is a large city. - -A few minutes later the cab arrived, and White and I set forth on -our mission. - -We did not talk much in the cab. I was too busy with my thoughts -to volunteer remarks, and White, apparently, had meditations of -his own to occupy him. - -It was when we had settled ourselves in an empty compartment and -the train had started that he found speech. I had provided myself -with a book as a barrier against conversation, and began at once -to make a pretence of reading, but he broke through my defences. - -'Interesting book, Mr Burns?' - -'Very,' I said. - -'Life's more interesting than books.' - -I made no comment on this profound observation. He was not -discouraged. - -'Mr Burns,' he said, after the silence had lasted a few moments. - -'Yes?' - -'Let's talk for a spell. These train-journeys are pretty slow.' - -Again I seemed to detect that curious undercurrent of meaning in -his voice which I had noticed in the course of our brief exchange -of remarks in the hall. I glanced up and met his eye. He was -looking at me in a way that struck me as curious. There was -something in those bright brown eyes of his which had the effect -of making me vaguely uneasy. Something seemed to tell me that he -had a definite motive in forcing his conversation on me. - -'I guess I can interest you a heap more than that book, even if -it's the darndest best seller that was ever hatched.' - -'Oh!' - -He lit a cigarette. - -'You didn't want me around on this trip, did you?' - -'It seemed rather unnecessary for both of us to go,' I said -indifferently. 'Still, perhaps two heads are better than one, as -Mr Abney remarked. What do you propose to do when you get to -London?' - -He bent forward and tapped me on the knee. - -'I propose to stick to you like a label on a bottle, sonny,' he -said. 'That's what I propose to do.' - -'What do you mean?' - -I was finding it difficult, such is the effect of a guilty -conscience, to meet his eye, and the fact irritated me. - -'I want to find out that address you gave the Ford kid this -morning out in the stable-yard.' - -It is strange how really literal figurative expressions are. I had -read stories in which some astonished character's heart leaped -into his mouth. For an instant I could have supposed that mine had -actually done so. The illusion of some solid object blocking up my -throat was extraordinarily vivid, and there certainly seemed to be -a vacuum in the spot where my heart should have been. Not for a -substantial reward could I have uttered a word at that moment. I -could not even breathe. The horrible unexpectedness of the blow -had paralysed me. - -White, however, was apparently prepared to continue the chat -without my assistance. - -'I guess you didn't know I was around, or you wouldn't have talked -that way. Well, I was, and I heard every word you said. Here was -the money, you said, and he was to take it and break for London, -and go to the address on this card, and your pal Smith would look -after him. I guess there had been some talk before that, but I -didn't arrive in time to hear it. But I heard all I wanted, except -that address. And that's what I'm going to find out when we get to -London.' - -He gave out this appalling information in a rich and soothing -voice, as if it were some ordinary commonplace. To me it seemed to -end everything. I imagined I was already as good as under arrest. -What a fool I had been to discuss such a matter in a place like a -stable yard, however apparently empty. I might have known that at -a school there are no empty places. - -'I must say it jarred me when I heard you pulling that stuff,' -continued White. 'I haven't what you might call a childlike faith -in my fellow-man as a rule, but it had never occurred to me for a -moment that you could be playing that game. It only shows,' he -added philosophically, 'that you've got to suspect everybody when -it comes to a gilt-edged proposition like the Little Nugget.' - -The train rattled on. I tried to reduce my mind to working order, -to formulate some plan, but could not. - -Beyond the realization that I was in the tightest corner of my -life, I seemed to have lost the power of thought. - -White resumed his monologue. - -'You had me guessing,' he admitted. 'I couldn't figure you out. -First thing, of course, I thought you must be working in with Buck -MacGinnis and his crowd. Then all that happened tonight, and I saw -that, whoever you might be working in with, it wasn't Buck. And -now I've placed you. You're not in with any one. You're just -playing it by yourself. I shouldn't mind betting this was your -first job, and that you saw your chance of making a pile by -holding up old man Ford, and thought it was better than -schoolmastering, and grabbed it.' - -He leaned forward and tapped me on the knee again. There was -something indescribably irritating in the action. As one who has -had experience, I can state that, while to be arrested at all is -bad, to be arrested by a detective with a fatherly manner is -maddening. - -'See here,' he said, 'we must get together over this business.' - -I suppose it was the recollection of the same words in the mouth -of Buck MacGinnis that made me sit up with a jerk and stare at -him. - -'We'll make a great team,' he said, still in that same cosy voice. -'If ever there was a case of fifty-fifty, this is it. You've got -the kid, and I've got you. I can't get away with him without your -help, and you can't get away with him unless you square me. It's a -stand-off. The only thing is to sit in at the game together and -share out. Does it go?' - -He beamed kindly on my bewilderment during the space of time it -takes to select a cigarette and light a match. Then, blowing a -contented puff of smoke, he crossed his legs and leaned back. - -'When I told you I was a Pinkerton's man, sonny,' he said, 'I -missed the cold truth by about a mile. But you caught me shooting -off guns in the grounds, and it was up to me to say something.' - -He blew a smoke-ring and watched it dreamily till it melted in the -draught from the ventilator. - -'I'm Smooth Sam Fisher,' he said. - - -II - -When two emotions clash, the weaker goes to the wall. Any surprise -I might have felt was swallowed up in my relief. If I had been at -liberty to be astonished, my companion's information would no -doubt have astonished me. But I was not. I was so relieved that he -was not a Pinkerton's man that I did not really care what else he -might be. - -'It's always been a habit of mine, in these little matters,' he -went on, 'to let other folks do the rough work, and chip in myself -when they've cleared the way. It saves trouble and expense. I -don't travel with a gang, like that bone-headed Buck. What's the -use of a gang? They only get tumbling over each other and spoiling -everything. Look at Buck! Where is he? Down and out. While I--' - -He smiled complacently. His manner annoyed me. I objected to being -looked upon as a humble cat's paw by this bland scoundrel. - -'While you--what?' I said. - -He looked at me in mild surprise. - -'Why, I come in with you, sonny, and take my share like a -gentleman.' - -'Do you!' - -'Well, don't I?' - -He looked at me in the half-reproachful half-affectionate manner -of the kind old uncle who reasons with a headstrong nephew. - -'Young man,' he said, 'you surely aren't thinking you can put one -over on me in this business? Tell me, you don't take me for that -sort of ivory-skulled boob? Do you imagine for one instant, sonny, -that I'm not next to every move in this game? Are you deluding -yourself with the idea that this thing isn't a perfect cinch for -me? Let's hear what's troubling you. You seem to have gotten some -foolish ideas in your head. Let's talk it over quietly.' - -'If you have no objection,' I said, 'no. I don't want to talk to -you, Mr Fisher. I don't like you, and I don't like your way of -earning your living. Buck MacGinnis was bad enough, but at least -he was a straightforward tough. There's no excuse for you.' - -'Surely we are unusually righteous this p.m., are we not?' said -Sam suavely. - -I did not answer. - -'Is this not mere professional jealousy?' - -This was too much for me. - -'Do you imagine for a moment that I'm doing this for money?' - -'I did have that impression. Was I wrong? Do you kidnap the sons -of millionaires for your health?' - -'I promised that I would get this boy back to his mother. That is -why I gave him the money to go to London. And that is why my valet -was to have taken him to--to where Mrs Ford is.' - -He did not reply in words, but if ever eyebrows spoke, his said, -'My dear sir, really!' I could not remain silent under their -patent disbelief. - -'That's the simple truth,' I said. - -He shrugged his shoulders, as who would say, 'Have it your own -way. Let us change the subject.' - -'You say "was to have taken". Have you changed your plans?' - -'Yes, I'm going to take the boy back to the school.' - -He laughed--a rich, rolling laugh. His double chin shook -comfortably. - -'It won't do,' he said, shaking his head with humorous reproach. -'It won't do.' - -'You don't believe me?' - -'Frankly, I do not.' - -'Very well,' I said, and began to read my book. - -'If you want to give me the slip,' he chuckled, 'you must do -better than that. I can see you bringing the Nugget back to the -school.' - -'You will, if you wait,' I said. - -'I wonder what that address was that you gave him,' he mused. -'Well, I shall soon know.' - -He lapsed into silence. The train rolled on. I looked at my watch. -London was not far off now. - -'The present arrangement of equal division,' said Sam, breaking a -long silence, 'holds good, of course, only in the event of your -quitting this fool game and doing the square thing by me. Let me -put it plainly. We are either partners or competitors. It is for -you to decide. If you will be sensible and tell me that address, I -will pledge my word--' - -'Your word!' I said scornfully. - -'Honour among thieves!' replied Sam, with unruffled geniality. 'I -wouldn't double-cross you for worlds. If, however, you think you -can manage without my assistance, it will then be my melancholy -duty to beat you to the kid, and collect him and the money -entirely on my own account. Am I to take it,' he said, as I was -silent, 'that you prefer war to an alliance?' - -I turned a page of my book and went on reading. - -'If Youth but knew!' he sighed. 'Young man, I am nearly twice your -age, and I have, at a modest estimate, about ten times as much -sense. Yet, in your overweening self-confidence, with your -ungovernable gall, you fancy you can hand me a lemon. _Me!_ I -should smile!' - -'Do,' I said. 'Do, while you can.' - -He shook his head reprovingly. - -'You will not be so fresh, sonny, in a few hours. You will be -biting pieces out of yourself, I fear. And later on, when my -automobile splashes you with mud in Piccadilly, you will taste the -full bitterness of remorse. Well, Youth must buy its experience, I -suppose!' - -I looked across at him as he sat, plump and rosy and complacent, -puffing at his cigarette, and my heart warmed to the old ruffian. -It was impossible to maintain an attitude of righteous iciness -with him. I might loathe his mode of life, and hate him as a -representative--and a leading representative--of one of the most -contemptible trades on earth, but there was a sunny charm about -the man himself which made it hard to feel hostile to him as an -individual. - -I closed my book with a bang and burst out laughing. - -'You're a wonder!' I said. - -He beamed at what he took to be evidence that I was coming round -to the friendly and sensible view of the matter. - -'Then you think, on consideration--' he said. 'Excellent! Now, my -dear young man, all joking aside, you will take me with you to -that address, will you not? You observe that I do not ask you to -give it to me. Let there be not so much as the faintest odour of -the double-cross about this business. All I ask is that you allow -me to accompany you to where the Nugget is hidden, and then rely -on my wider experience of this sort of game to get him safely away -and open negotiations with the dad.' - -'I suppose your experience has been wide?' I said. - -'Quite tolerably--quite tolerably.' - -'Doesn't it ever worry you the anxiety and misery you cause?' - -'Purely temporary, both. And then, look at it in another way. -Think of the joy and relief of the bereaved parents when sonny -comes toddling home again! Surely it is worth some temporary -distress to taste that supreme happiness? In a sense, you might -call me a human benefactor. I teach parents to appreciate their -children. You know what parents are. Father gets caught short in -steel rails one morning. When he reaches home, what does he do? He -eases his mind by snapping at little Willie. Mrs Van First-Family -forgets to invite mother to her freak-dinner. What happens? Mother -takes it out of William. They love him, maybe, but they are too -used to him. They do not realize all he is to them. And then, one -afternoon, he disappears. The agony! The remorse! "How could I -ever have told our lost angel to stop his darned noise!" moans -father. "I struck him!" sobs mother. "With this jewelled hand I -spanked our vanished darling!" "We were not worthy to have him," -they wail together. "But oh, if we could but get him back!" Well -they do. They get him back as soon as ever they care to come -across in unmarked hundred-dollar bills. And after that they think -twice before working off their grouches on the poor kid. So I -bring universal happiness into the home. I don't say father -doesn't get a twinge every now and then when he catches sight of -the hole in his bank balance, but, darn it, what's money for if -it's not to spend?' - -He snorted with altruistic fervour. - -'What makes you so set on kidnapping Ogden Ford?' I asked. 'I know -he is valuable, but you must have made your pile by this time. I -gather that you have been practising your particular brand of -philanthropy for a good many years. Why don't you retire?' - -He sighed. - -'It is the dream of my life to retire, young man. You may not -believe me, but my instincts are thoroughly domestic. When I have -the leisure to weave day-dreams, they centre around a cosy little -home with a nice porch and stationary washtubs.' - -He regarded me closely, as if to decide whether I was worthy of -these confidences. There was something wistful in his brown eyes. -I suppose the inspection must have been favourable, or he was in a -mood when a man must unbosom himself to someone, for he proceeded -to open his heart to me. A man in his particular line of business, -I imagine, finds few confidants, and the strain probably becomes -intolerable at times. - -'Have you ever experienced the love of a good woman, sonny? It's a -wonderful thing.' He brooded sentimentally for a moment, then -continued, and--to my mind--somewhat spoiled the impressiveness of -his opening words. 'The love of a good woman,' he said, 'is about -the darnedest wonderful lay-out that ever came down the pike. I -know. I've had some.' - -A spark from his cigarette fell on his hand. He swore a startled -oath. - -'We came from the same old town,' he resumed, having recovered -from this interlude. 'Used to be kids at the same school ... -Walked to school together ... me carrying her luncheon-basket and -helping her over the fences ... Ah! ... Just the same when we grew -up. Still pals. And that was twenty years ago ... The arrangement -was that I should go out and make the money to buy the home, and -then come back and marry her.' - -'Then why the devil haven't you done it?' I said severely. - -He shook his head. - -'If you know anything about crooks, young man,' he said, 'you'll -know that outside of their own line they are the easiest marks that -ever happened. They fall for anything. At least, it's always been -that way with me. No sooner did I get together a sort of pile and -start out for the old town, when some smooth stranger would come -along and steer me up against some skin-game, and back I'd have to -go to work. That happened a few times, and when I did manage at -last to get home with the dough I found she had married another -guy. It's hard on women, you see,' he explained chivalrously. 'They -get lonesome and Roving Rupert doesn't show up, so they have to -marry Stay-at-Home Henry just to keep from getting the horrors.' - -'So she's Mrs Stay-at-Home Henry now?' I said sympathetically. - -'She was till a year ago. She's a widow now. Deceased had a -misunderstanding with a hydrophobia skunk, so I'm informed. I -believe he was a good man. Outside of licking him at school I -didn't know him well. I saw her just before I left to come here. -She's as fond of me as ever. It's all settled, if only I can -connect with the mazuma. And she don't want much, either. Just -enough to keep the home together.' - -'I wish you happiness,' I said. - -'You can do better than that. You can take me with you to that -address.' - -I avoided the subject. - -'What does she say to your way of making money?' I asked. - -'She doesn't know, and she ain't going to know. I don't see why a -man has got to tell his wife every little thing in his past. She -thinks I'm a drummer, travelling in England for a dry-goods firm. -She wouldn't stand for the other thing, not for a minute. She's -very particular. Always was. That's why I'm going to quit after -I've won out over this thing of the Little Nugget.' He looked at -me hopefully. 'So you _will_ take me along, sonny, won't you?' - -I shook my head. - -'You won't?' - -'I'm sorry to spoil a romance, but I can't. You must look around -for some other home into which to bring happiness. The Fords' is -barred.' - -'You are very obstinate, young man,' he said, sadly, but without -any apparent ill-feeling. 'I can't persuade you?' - -'No.' - -'Ah, well! So we are to be rivals, not allies. You will regret -this, sonny. I may say you will regret it very bitterly. When you -see me in my automo--' - -'You mentioned your automobile before.' - -'Ah! So I did.' - -The train had stopped, as trains always do on English railways -before entering a terminus. Presently it began to move forward -hesitatingly, as if saying to itself, 'Now, am I really wanted -here? Shall I be welcome?' Eventually, after a second halt, it -glided slowly alongside the platform. - -I sprang out and ran to the cab-rank. I was aboard a taxi, bowling -out of the station before the train had stopped. - -Peeping out of the window at the back, I was unable to see Sam. My -adroit move, I took it, had baffled him. I had left him standing. - -It was a quarter of an hour's drive to my rooms, but to me, in my -anxiety, it seemed more. This was going to be a close thing, and -success or failure a matter of minutes. If he followed my -instructions Smith would be starting for the Continental boat-train -tonight with his companion; and, working out the distances, -I saw that, by the time I could arrive, he might already have left -my rooms. Sam's supervision at Sanstead Station had made it -impossible for me to send a telegram. I had had to trust to -chance. Fortunately my train, by a miracle, had been up to time, -and at my present rate of progress I ought to catch Smith a few -minutes before he left the building. - -The cab pulled up. I ran up the stairs and opened the door of my -apartment. - -'Smith!' I called. - -A chair scraped along the floor and a door opened at the end of -the passage. Smith came out. - -'Thank goodness you have not started. I thought I should miss you. -Where is the boy?' - -'The boy, sir?' - -'The boy I wrote to you about.' - -'He has not arrived, sir.' - -'Not arrived?' - -'No, sir.' - -I stared at him blankly. - -'How long have you been here?' - -'All day, sir.' - -'You have not been out?' - -'Not since the hour of two, sir.' - -'I can't understand it,' I said. - -'Perhaps the young gentleman changed his mind and never started, -sir?' - -'I know he started.' - -Smith had no further suggestion to offer. - -'Pending the young gentleman's arrival, sir, I remain in London?' - -A fruity voice spoke at the door behind me. - -'What! Hasn't he arrived?' - -I turned. There, beaming and benevolent, stood Mr Fisher. - -'It occurred to me to look your name out in the telephone -directory,' he explained. 'I might have thought of that before.' - -'Come in here,' I said, opening the door of the sitting-room. I -did not want to discuss the thing with him before Smith. - -He looked about the room admiringly. - -'So these are your quarters,' he said. 'You do yourself pretty -well, young man. So I understand that the Nugget has gone wrong in -transit. He has altered his plans on the way?' - -'I can't understand it.' - -'I can! You gave him a certain amount of money?' - -'Yes. Enough to get him to--where he was going.' - -'Then, knowing the boy, I should say that he has found other uses -for it. He's whooping it up in London, and, I should fancy, having -the time of his young life.' - -He got up. - -'This of course,' he said, 'alters considerably any understanding -we may have come to, sonny. All idea of a partnership is now out -of the question. I wish you well, but I have no further use for -you. Somewhere in this great city the Little Nugget is hiding, and -I mean to find him--entirely on my own account. This is where our -paths divide, Mr Burns. Good night.' - - - - -Chapter 10 - - -When Sam had left, which he did rather in the manner of a heavy -father in melodrama, shaking the dust of an erring son's threshold -off his feet, I mixed myself a high-ball, and sat down to consider -the position of affairs. It did not take me long to see that the -infernal boy had double-crossed me with a smooth effectiveness -which Mr Fisher himself might have envied. Somewhere in this great -city, as Sam had observed, he was hiding. But where? London is a -vague address. - -I wondered what steps Sam was taking. Was there some underground -secret service bureau to which persons of his profession had -access? I doubted it. I imagined that he, as I proposed to do, was -drawing the city at a venture in the hope of flushing the quarry -by accident. Yet such was the impression he had made upon me as a -man of resource and sagacity, that I did not relish the idea of -his getting a start on me, even in a venture so uncertain as this. -My imagination began to picture him miraculously inspired in the -search, and such was the vividness of the vision that I jumped up -from my chair, resolved to get on the trail at once. It was -hopelessly late, however, and I did not anticipate that I should -meet with any success. - -Nor did I. For two hours and a half I tramped the streets, my -spirits sinking more and more under the influence of failure and a -blend of snow and sleet which had begun to fall; and then, tired -out, I went back to my rooms, and climbed sorrowfully into bed. - -It was odd to wake up and realize that I was in London. Years -seemed to have passed since I had left it. Time is a thing of -emotions, not of hours and minutes, and I had certainly packed a -considerable number of emotional moments into my stay at Sanstead -House. I lay in bed, reviewing the past, while Smith, with a -cheerful clatter of crockery, prepared my breakfast in the next -room. - -A curious lethargy had succeeded the feverish energy of the -previous night. More than ever the impossibility of finding the -needle in this human bundle of hay oppressed me. No one is -optimistic before breakfast, and I regarded the future with dull -resignation, turning my thoughts from it after a while to the -past. But the past meant Audrey, and to think of Audrey hurt. - -It seemed curious to me that in a life of thirty years I should -have been able to find, among the hundreds of women I had met, -only one capable of creating in me that disquieting welter of -emotions which is called love, and hard that that one should -reciprocate my feeling only to the extent of the mild liking which -Audrey entertained for me. - -I tried to analyse her qualifications for the place she held in my -heart. I had known women who had attracted me more physically, and -women who had attracted me more mentally. I had known wiser women, -handsomer women, more amiable women, but none of them had affected -me like Audrey. The problem was inexplicable. Any idea that we -might be affinities, soul-mates destined for each other from the -beginning of time, was disposed of by the fact that my attraction -for her was apparently in inverse ratio to hers for me. For -possibly the millionth time in the past five years I tried to -picture in my mind the man Sheridan, that shadowy wooer to whom -she had yielded so readily. What quality had he possessed that I -did not? Wherein lay the magnetism that had brought about his -triumph? - -These were unprofitable speculations. I laid them aside until the -next occasion when I should feel disposed for self-torture, and -got out of bed. A bath and breakfast braced me up, and I left the -house in a reasonably cheerful frame of mind. - -To search at random for an individual unit among London's millions -lends an undeniable attraction to a day in town. In a desultory -way I pursued my investigations through the morning and afternoon, -but neither of Ogden nor of his young friend Lord Beckford was I -vouchsafed a glimpse. My consolation was that Smooth Sam was -probably being equally unsuccessful. - -Towards the evening there arose the question of return to -Sanstead. I had not gathered whether Mr Abney had intended to set -any time-limit on my wanderings, or whether I was not supposed to -come back except with the deserters. I decided that I had better -remain in London, at any rate for another night, and went to the -nearest post office to send Mr Abney a telegram to that effect. - -As I was writing it, the problem which had baffled me for twenty-four -hours, solved itself in under a minute. Whether my powers of -inductive reasoning had been under a cloud since I left Sanstead, -or whether they were normally beneath contempt, I do not know. But -the fact remains, that I had completely overlooked the obvious -solution of my difficulty. I think I must have been thinking so -exclusively of the Little Nugget that I had entirely forgotten the -existence of Augustus Beckford. It occurred to me now that, by -making inquiries at the latter's house, I should learn something -to my advantage. A boy of the Augustus type does not run away from -school without a reason. Probably some party was taking place -tonight at the ancestral home, at which, tempted by the lawless -Nugget, he had decided that his presence was necessary. - -I knew the house well. There had been a time, when Lord Mountry -and I were at Oxford, when I had spent frequent week-ends there. -Since then, owing to being abroad, I had seen little of the -family. Now was the moment to reintroduce myself. I hailed a cab. - -Inductive reasoning had not played me false. There was a red -carpet outside the house, and from within came the sounds of -music. - -Lady Wroxham, the mother of Mountry and the vanishing Augustus, -was one of those women who take things as they come. She did not -seem surprised at seeing me. - -'How nice of you to come and see us,' she said. 'Somebody told me -you were abroad. Ted is in the south of France in the yacht. -Augustus is here. Mr Abney, his schoolmaster, let him come up for -the night.' - -I perceived that Augustus had been playing a bold game. I saw the -coaching of Ogden behind these dashing falsehoods. - -'You will hardly remember Sybil. She was quite a baby when you -were here last. She is having her birthday-party this evening.' - -'May I go in and help?' I said. - -'I wish you would. They would love it.' - -I doubted it, but went in. A dance had just finished. Strolling -towards me in his tightest Eton suit, his face shining with honest -joy, was the errant Augustus, and close behind him, wearing the -blase' air of one for whom custom has staled the pleasures of life, -was the Little Nugget. - -I think they both saw me at the same moment. The effect of my -appearance on them was illustrative of their respective characters. -Augustus turned a deep shade of purple and fixed me with a -horrified stare. The Nugget winked. Augustus halted and shuffled -his feet. The Nugget strolled up and accosted me like an old -friend. - -'Hello!' he said. 'How did you get here? Say, I was going to try -and get you on the phone some old time and explain things. I've -been pretty much on the jump since I hit London.' - -'You little brute!' - -My gleaming eye, travelling past him, met that of the Hon. -Augustus Beckford, causing that youth to jump guiltily. The Nugget -looked over his shoulder. - -'I guess we don't want him around if we're to talk business,' he -said. 'I'll go and tell him to beat it.' - -'You'll do nothing of the kind. I don't propose to lose sight of -either of you.' - -'Oh, he's all right. You don't have to worry about him. He was -going back to the school anyway tomorrow. He only ran away to go -to this party. Why not let him enjoy himself while he's here? I'll -go and make a date for you to meet at the end of the show.' - -He approached his friend, and a short colloquy ensued, which ended -in the latter shuffling off in the direction of the other -revellers. Such is the buoyancy of youth that a moment later he -was dancing a two-step with every appearance of careless enjoyment. -The future, with its storms, seemed to have slipped from his mind. - -'That's all right,' said the Nugget, returning to me. 'He's -promised he won't duck away. You'll find him somewhere around -whenever you care to look for him. Now we can talk.' - -'I hardly like to trespass on your valuable time,' I said. The -airy way in which this demon boy handled what should have been--to -him--an embarrassing situation irritated me. For all the authority -I seemed to have over him I might have been the potted palm -against which he was leaning. - -'That's all right.' Everything appeared to be all right with him. -'This sort of thing does not appeal to me. Don't be afraid of -spoiling my evening. I only came because Becky was so set on it. -Dancing bores me pallid, so let's get somewhere where we can sit -down and talk.' - -I was beginning to feel that a children's party was the right -place for me. Sam Fisher had treated me as a child, and so did the -Little Nugget. That I was a responsible person, well on in my -thirty-first year, with a narrow escape from death and a hopeless -love-affair on my record, seemed to strike neither of them. I -followed my companion to a secluded recess with the utmost -meekness. - -He leaned back and crossed his legs. - -'Got a cigarette?' - -'I have not got a cigarette, and, if I had, I wouldn't give it to -you.' - -He regarded me tolerantly. - -'Got a grouch tonight, haven't you? You seem all flittered up -about something. What's the trouble? Sore about my not showing up -at your apartment? I'll explain that all right.' - -'I shall be glad to listen.' - -'It's like this. It suddenly occurred to me that a day or two one -way or the other wasn't going to affect our deal and that, while I -was about it, I might just as well see a bit of London before I -left. I suggested it to Becky, and the idea made the biggest kind -of a hit with him. I found he had only been in an automobile once -in his life. Can you beat it? I've had one of my own ever since -I was a kid. Well, naturally, it was up to me to blow him to a -joy-ride, and that's where the money went.' - -'Where the money went?' - -'Sure. I've got two dollars left, and that's all. It wasn't -altogether the automobiling. It was the meals that got away with -my roll. Say, that kid Beckford is one swell feeder. He's wrapping -himself around the eats all the time. I guess it's not smoking -that does it. I haven't the appetite I used to have. Well, that's -how it was, you see. But I'm through now. Cough up the fare and -I'll make the trip tomorrow. Mother'll be tickled to death to see -me.' - -'She won't see you. We're going back to the school tomorrow.' - -He looked at me incredulously. - -'What's that? Going back to school?' - -'I've altered my plans.' - -'I'm not going back to any old school. You daren't take me. -Where'll you be if I tell the hot-air merchant about our deal and -you slipping me the money and all that?' - -'Tell him what you like. He won't believe it.' - -He thought this over, and its truth came home to him. The -complacent expression left his face. - -'What's the matter with you? Are you dippy, or what? You get me -away up to London, and the first thing that happens when I'm here -is that you want to take me back. You make me tired.' - -It was borne in upon me that there was something in his point of -view. My sudden change of mind must have seemed inexplicable to -him. And, having by a miracle succeeded in finding him, I was in a -mood to be generous. I unbent. - -'Ogden, old sport,' I said cordially, I think we've both had all -we want of this children's party. You're bored and if I stop on -another half hour I may be called on to entertain these infants -with comic songs. We men of the world are above this sort of -thing. Get your hat and coat and I'll take you to a show. We can -discuss business later over a bit of supper.' - -The gloom of his countenance melted into a pleased smile. - -'You said something that time!' he observed joyfully; and we slunk -away to get our hats, the best of friends. A note for Augustus -Beckford, requesting his presence at Waterloo Station at ten -minutes past twelve on the following morning, I left with the -butler. There was a certain informality about my methods which I -doubt if Mr Abney would have approved, but I felt that I could -rely on Augustus. - -Much may be done by kindness. By the time the curtain fell on the -musical comedy which we had attended all was peace between the -Nugget and myself. Supper cemented our friendship, and we drove -back to my rooms on excellent terms with one another. Half an hour -later he was snoring in the spare room, while I smoked contentedly -before the fire in the sitting-room. - -I had not been there five minutes when the bell rang. Smith was in -bed, so I went to the door myself and found Mr Fisher on the mat. - -My feeling of benevolence towards all created things, the result -of my successful handling of the Little Nugget, embraced Sam. I -invited him in. - -'Well,' I said, when I had given him a cigar and filled his glass, -'and how have you been getting on, Mr Fisher? Any luck?' - -He shook his head at me reproachfully. - -'Young man, you're deep. I've got to hand it to you. I -underestimated you. You're very deep.' - -'Approbation from Smooth Sam Fisher is praise indeed. But why -these stately compliments?' - -'You took me in, young man. I don't mind owning it. When you told -me the Nugget had gone astray, I lapped it up like a babe. And all -the time you were putting one over on me. Well, well!' - -'But he had gone astray, Mr Fisher.' - -He knocked the ash off his cigar. He wore a pained look. - -'You needn't keep it up, sonny. I happened to be standing within -three yards of you when you got into a cab with him in Shaftesbury -Avenue.' - -I laughed. - -'Well, if that's the case, let there be no secrets between us. -He's asleep in the next room.' - -Sam leaned forward earnestly and tapped me on the knee. - -'Young man, this is a critical moment. This is where, if you -aren't careful, you may undo all the good work you have done by -getting chesty and thinking that, because you've won out so far, -you're the whole show. Believe me, the difficult part is to come, -and it's right here that you need an experienced man to work in -with you. Let me in on this and leave the negotiations with old -man Ford to me. You would only make a mess of them. I've handled -this kind of thing a dozen times, and I know just how to act. You -won't regret taking me on as a partner. You won't lose a cent by -it. I can work him for just double what you would get, even -supposing you didn't make a mess of the deal and get nothing.' - -'It's very good of you, but there won't be any negotiations with -Mr Ford. I am taking the boy back to Sanstead, as I told you.' I -caught his pained eye. 'I'm afraid you don't believe me.' - -He drew at his cigar without replying. - -It is a human weakness to wish to convince those who doubt us, -even if their opinion is not intrinsically valuable. I remembered -that I had Cynthia's letter in my pocket. I produced it as exhibit -A in my evidence and read it to him. - -Sam listened carefully. - -'I see,' he said. 'Who wrote that?' - -'Never mind. A friend of mine.' - -I returned the letter to my pocket. - -'I was going to have sent him over to Monaco, but I altered my -plans. Something interfered.' - -'What?' - -'I might call it coincidence, if you know what that means.' - -'And you are really going to take him back to the school?' - -'I am.' - -'We shall travel back together,' he said. 'I had hoped I had seen -the last of the place. The English countryside may be delightful -in the summer, but for winter give me London. However,' he sighed -resignedly, and rose from his chair, 'I will say good-bye till -tomorrow. What train do you catch?' - -'Do you mean to say,' I demanded, 'that you have the nerve to come -back to Sanstead after what you have told me about yourself?' - -'You entertain some idea of exposing me to Mr Abney? Forget it, -young man. We are both in glass houses. Don't let us throw stones. -Besides, would he believe it? What proof have you?' - -I had thought this argument tolerably sound when I had used it on -the Nugget. Now that it was used on myself I realized its -soundness even more thoroughly. My hands were tied. - -'Yes,' said Sam, 'tomorrow, after our little jaunt to London, we -shall all resume the quiet, rural life once more.' - -He beamed expansively upon me from the doorway. - -'However, even the quiet, rural life has its interest. I guess we -shan't be dull!' he said. - -I believed him. - - - - -Chapter 11 - - -Considering the various handicaps under which he laboured notably -a cold in the head, a fear of the Little Nugget, and a reverence -for the aristocracy--Mr Abney's handling of the situation, when -the runaways returned to school, bordered on the masterly. Any sort -of physical punishment being out of the question--especially in the -case of the Nugget, who would certainly have retaliated with a bout -of window-breaking--he had to fall back on oratory, and he did this -to such effect that, when he had finished, Augustus wept openly and -was so subdued that he did not ask a single question for nearly three -days. - -One result of the adventure was that Ogden's bed was moved to a -sort of cubby-hole adjoining my room. In the house, as originally -planned, this had evidently been a dressing-room. Under Mr Abney's -rule it had come to be used as a general repository for lumber. My -boxes were there, and a portmanteau of Glossop's. It was an -excellent place in which to bestow a boy in quest of whom -kidnappers might break in by night. The window was too small to -allow a man to pass through, and the only means of entrance was by -way of my room. By night, at any rate, the Nugget's safety seemed -to be assured. - -The curiosity of the small boy, fortunately, is not lasting. His -active mind lives mainly in the present. It was not many days, -therefore, before the excitement caused by Buck's raid and the -Nugget's disappearance began to subside. Within a week both -episodes had been shelved as subjects of conversation, and the -school had settled down to its normal humdrum life. - -To me, however, there had come a period of mental unrest more -acute than I had ever experienced. My life, for the past five -years, had run in so smooth a stream that, now that I found myself -tossed about in the rapids, I was bewildered. It was a peculiar -aggravation of the difficulty of my position that in my world, the -little world of Sanstead House, there should be but one woman, and -she the very one whom, if I wished to recover my peace of mind, it -was necessary for me to avoid. - -My feelings towards Cynthia at this time defied my powers of -analysis. There were moments when I clung to the memory of her, -when she seemed the only thing solid and safe in a world of chaos, -and moments, again, when she was a burden crushing me. There were -days when I would give up the struggle and let myself drift, and -days when I would fight myself inch by inch. But every day found -my position more hopeless than the last. - -At night sometimes, as I lay awake, I would tell myself that if -only I could see her or even hear from her the struggle would be -easier. It was her total disappearance from my life that made it -so hard for me. I had nothing to help me to fight. - -And then, one morning, as if in answer to my thoughts her letter -came. - -The letter startled me. It was as if there had been some -telepathic communion between us. - -It was very short, almost formal: - -'MY DEAR PETER--I want to ask you a question. I can put it quite -shortly. It is this. Are your feelings towards me still the same? -I don't tell you why I ask this. I simply ask it. Whatever your -answer is, it cannot affect our friendship, so be quite candid. -CYNTHIA.' - -I sat down there and then to write my reply. The letter, coming -when it did and saying what it said, had affected me profoundly. -It was like an unexpected reinforcement in a losing battle. It -filled me with a glow of self-confidence. I felt strong again, -able to fight and win. My mood bore me away, and I poured out my -whole heart to her. I told her that my feelings had not altered, -that I loved her and nobody but her. It was a letter, I can see, -looking back, born of fretted nerves; but at the time I had no -such criticism to make. It seemed to me a true expression of my -real feelings. - -That the fight was not over because in my moment of exaltation I -had imagined that I had conquered myself was made uncomfortably -plain to me by the thrill that ran through me when, returning from -posting my letter, I met Audrey. The sight of her reminded me that -a reinforcement is only a reinforcement, a help towards victory, -not victory itself. - -For the first time I found myself feeling resentful towards her. -There was no reason in my resentment. It would not have borne -examination. But it was there, and its presence gave me support. I -found myself combating the thrill the sight of her had caused, and -looking at her with a critical and hostile eye. Who was she that -she should enslave a man against his will? Fascination exists only -in the imagination of the fascinated. If he have the strength to -deny the fascination and convince himself that it does not exist, -he is saved. It is purely a matter of willpower and calm -reasonableness. There must have been sturdy, level-headed Egyptian -citizens who could not understand what people saw to admire in -Cleopatra. - -Thus reasoning, I raised my hat, uttered a crisp 'Good morning', -and passed on, the very picture of the brisk man of affairs. - -'Peter!' - -Even the brisk man of affairs must stop when spoken to. Otherwise, -apart from any question of politeness, it looks as if he were -running away. - -Her face was still wearing the faint look of surprise which my -manner had called forth. - -'You're in a great hurry.' - -I had no answer. She did not appear to expect one. - -We moved towards the house in silence, to me oppressive silence. -The force of her personality was beginning to beat against my -defences, concerning the stability of which, under pressure, a -certain uneasiness troubled my mind. - -'Are you worried about anything, Peter?' she said at last. - -'No,' I said. 'Why?' - -'I was afraid you might be.' - -I felt angry with myself. I was mismanaging this thing in the most -idiotic way. Instead of this bovine silence, gay small-talk, the -easy eloquence, in fact, of the brisk man of affairs should have -been my policy. No wonder Smooth Sam Fisher treated me as a child. -My whole bearing was that of a sulky school-boy. - -The silence became more oppressive. - -We reached the house. In the hall we parted, she to upper regions, -I to my classroom. She did not look at me. Her face was cold and -offended. - -One is curiously inconsistent. Having created what in the -circumstances was a most desirable coldness between Audrey and -myself, I ought to have been satisfied. Reason told me that this -was the best thing that could have happened. Yet joy was one of -the few emotions which I did not feel during the days which -followed. My brief moment of clear-headedness had passed, and with -it the exhilaration that had produced the letter to Cynthia and -the resentment which had helped me to reason calmly with myself on -the intrinsic nature of fascination in woman. Once more Audrey -became the centre of my world. But our friendship, that elusive -thing which had contrived to exist side by side with my love, had -vanished. There was a breach between us which widened daily. Soon -we hardly spoke. - -Nothing, in short, could have been more eminently satisfactory, -and the fact that I regretted it is only a proof of the essential -weakness of my character. - - - - -Chapter 12 - - -I - -In those grey days there was one thought, of the many that -occupied my mind, which brought with it a certain measure of -consolation. It was the reflection that this state of affairs -could not last for ever. The school term was drawing to a close. -Soon I should be free from the propinquity which paralysed my -efforts to fight. I was resolved that the last day of term should -end for ever my connection with Sanstead House and all that was in -it. Mrs Ford must find some other minion. If her happiness -depended on the recovery of the Little Nugget, she must learn to -do without happiness, like the rest of the inhabitants of this -horrible world. - -Meanwhile, however, I held myself to be still on duty. By what -tortuous processes of thought I had arrived at the conclusion I do -not know, but I considered myself responsible to Audrey for the -safeguarding of the Little Nugget, and no altered relations -between us could affect my position. Perhaps mixed up with this -attitude of mind, was the less altruistic wish to foil Smooth Sam. -His continued presence at the school was a challenge to me. - -Sam's behaviour puzzled me. I do not know exactly what I expected -him to do, but I certainly did not expect him to do nothing. Yet -day followed day, and still he made no move. He was the very model -of a butler. But our dealings with one another in London had left -me vigilant, and his inaction did not disarm me. It sprang from -patience, not from any weakening of purpose or despair of success. -Sooner or later I knew he would act, swiftly and suddenly, with a -plan perfected in every detail. - -But when he made his attack it was the very simplicity of his -methods that tricked me, and only pure chance defeated him. - -I have said that it was the custom of the staff of masters at -Sanstead House School--in other words, of every male adult in the -house except Mr Fisher himself--to assemble in Mr Abney's study -after dinner of an evening to drink coffee. It was a ceremony, -like most of the ceremonies at an establishment such as a school, -where things are run on a schedule, which knew of no variation. -Sometimes Mr Abney would leave us immediately after the ceremony, -but he never omitted to take his part in it first. - -On this particular evening, for the first time since the beginning -of the term, I was seized with a prejudice against coffee. I had -been sleeping badly for several nights, and I decided that -abstention from coffee might remedy this. - -I waited, for form's sake, till Glossop and Mr Abney had filled -their cups, then went to my room, where I lay down in the dark to -wrestle with a more than usually pronounced fit of depression -which had descended upon me. Solitude and darkness struck me as -the suitable setting for my thoughts. - -At this moment Smooth Sam Fisher had no place in my meditations. -My mind was not occupied with him at all. When, therefore, the -door, which had been ajar, began to open slowly, I did not become -instantly on the alert. Perhaps it was some sound, barely audible, -that aroused me from my torpor and set my blood tingling with -anticipation. Perhaps it was the way the door was opening. An -honest draught does not move a door furtively, in jerks. - -I sat up noiseless, tense, and alert. And then, very quietly, -somebody entered the room. - -There was only one person in Sanstead House who would enter a room -like that. I was amused. The impudence of the thing tickled me. It -seemed so foreign to Mr Fisher's usual cautious methods. This -strolling in and helping oneself was certainly kidnapping _de -luxe_. In the small hours I could have understood it; but at -nine o'clock at night, with Glossop, Mr Abney and myself awake and -liable to be met at any moment on the stairs, it was absurd. I -marvelled at Smooth Sam's effrontery. - -I lay still. I imagined that, being in, he would switch on the -electric light. He did, and I greeted him pleasantly. - -'And what can I do for _you_, Mr Fisher?' - -For a man who had learned to control himself in difficult -situations he took the shock badly. He uttered a startled -exclamation and spun round, open-mouthed. - -I could not help admiring the quickness with which he recovered -himself. Almost immediately he was the suave, chatty Sam Fisher -who had unbosomed his theories and dreams to me in the train to -London. - -'I quit,' he said pleasantly. 'The episode is closed. I am a man -of peace, and I take it that you would not keep on lying quietly -on that bed while I went into the other room and abstracted our -young friend? Unless you have changed your mind again, would a -fifty-fifty offer tempt you?' - -'Not an inch.' - -'Just so. I merely asked.' - -'And how about Mr Abney, in any case? Suppose we met him on the -stairs?' - -'We should not meet him on the stairs,' said Sam confidently. 'You -did not take coffee tonight, I gather?' - -'I didn't--no. Why?' - -He jerked his head resignedly. - -'Can you beat it! I ask you, young man, could I have foreseen -that, after drinking coffee every night regularly for two months, -you would pass it up tonight of all nights? You certainly are my -jinx, sonny. You have hung the Indian sign on me all right.' - -His words had brought light to me. - -'Did you drug the coffee?' - -'Did I! I fixed it so that one sip would have an insomnia patient -in dreamland before he had time to say "Good night". That stuff -Rip Van Winkle drank had nothing on my coffee. And all wasted! -Well, well!' - -He turned towards the door. - -'Shall I leave the light on, or would you prefer it off?' - -'On please. I might fall asleep in the dark.' - -'Not you! And, if you did, you would dream that I was there, and -wake up. There are moments, young man, when you bring me pretty -near to quitting and taking to honest work.' - -He paused. - -'But not altogether. I have still a shot or two in my locker. We -shall see what we shall see. I am not dead yet. Wait!' - -'I will, and some day, when I am walking along Piccadilly, a -passing automobile will splash me with mud. A heavily furred -plutocrat will stare haughtily at me from the tonneau, and with a -start of surprise I shall recognize--' - -'Stranger things have happened. Be flip while you can, sonny. You -win so far, but this hoodoo of mine can't last for ever.' - -He passed from the room with a certain sad dignity. A moment later -he reappeared. - -'A thought strikes me,' he said. 'The fifty-fifty proposition does -not impress you. Would it make things easier if I were to offer my -cooperation for a mere quarter of the profit?' - -'Not in the least.' - -'It's a handsome offer.' - -'Wonderfully. I'm afraid I'm not dealing on any terms.' - -He left the room, only to return once more. His head appeared, -staring at me round the door, in a disembodied way, like the -Cheshire Cat. - -'You won't say later on I didn't give you your chance?' he said -anxiously. - -He vanished again, permanently this time. I heard his steps -passing down the stairs. - - -II - -We had now arrived at the last week of term, at the last days of -the last week. The holiday spirit was abroad in the school. Among -the boys it took the form of increased disorderliness. Boys who -had hitherto only made Glossop bellow now made him perspire and -tear his hair as well. Boys who had merely spilt ink now broke -windows. The Little Nugget abandoned cigarettes in favour of an -old clay pipe which he had found in the stables. - -As for me, I felt like a spent swimmer who sees the shore almost -within his reach. Audrey avoided me when she could, and was -frigidly polite when we met. But I suffered less now. A few more -days, and I should have done with this phase of my life for ever, -and Audrey would once more become a memory. - -Complete quiescence marked the deportment of Mr Fisher during -these days. He did not attempt to repeat his last effort. The -coffee came to the study unmixed with alien drugs. Sam, like -lightning, did not strike twice in the same place. He had the -artist's soul, and disliked patching up bungled work. If he made -another move, it would, I knew, be on entirely fresh lines. - -Ignoring the fact that I had had all the luck, I was inclined to -be self-satisfied when I thought of Sam. I had pitted my wits -against his, and I had won. It was a praiseworthy performance for -a man who had done hitherto nothing particular in his life. - -If all the copybook maxims which had been drilled into me in my -childhood and my early disaster with Audrey had not been -sufficient, I ought to have been warned by Sam's advice not to -take victory for granted till the fight was over. As Sam had said, -his luck would turn sooner or later. - -One realizes these truths in theory, but the practical application -of them seldom fails to come as a shock. I received mine on the -last morning but one of the term. - -Shortly after breakfast a message was brought to me that Mr Abney -would like to see me in his study. I went without any sense of -disaster to come. Most of the business of the school was discussed -in the study after breakfast, and I imagined that the matter had -to do with some detail of the morrow's exodus. - -I found Mr Abney pacing the room, a look of annoyance on his face. -At the desk, her back to me, Audrey was writing. It was part of -her work to take charge of the business correspondence of the -establishment. She did not look round when I came in, nor when Mr -Abney spoke my name, but went on writing as if I did not exist. - -There was a touch of embarrassment in Mr Abney's manner, for which -I could not at first account. He was stately, but with the rather -defensive stateliness which marked his announcements that he was -about to pop up to London and leave me to do his work. He coughed -once or twice before proceeding to the business of the moment. - -'Ah, Mr Burns,' he said at length, 'might I ask if your plans for -the holidays, the--ah--earlier part of the holidays are settled? -No? ah--excellent.' - -He produced a letter from the heap of papers on the desk. - -'Ah--excellent. That simplifies matters considerably. I have no -right to ask what I am about to--ah--in fact ask. I have no claim -on your time in the holidays. But, in the circumstances, perhaps -you may see your way to doing me a considerable service. I have -received a letter from Mr Elmer Ford which puts me in a position -of some difficulty. It is not my wish--indeed, it is foreign to my -policy--to disoblige the parents of the boys who are entrusted to -my--ah--care, and I should like, if possible, to do what Mr Ford -asks. It appears that certain business matters call him to the -north of England for a few days, this rendering it impossible for -him to receive little Ogden tomorrow. It is not my custom to -criticize parents who have paid me the compliment of placing their -sons at the most malleable and important period of their lives, in -my--ah--charge, but I must say that a little longer notice would -have been a--in fact, a convenience. But Mr Ford, like so many of -his countrymen, is what I believe is called a hustler. He does it -now, as the expression is. In short, he wishes to leave little -Ogden at the school for the first few days of the holidays, and I -should be extremely obliged, Mr Burns, if you should find it -possible to stay here and--ah--look after him.' - -Audrey stopped writing and turned in her chair, the first -intimation she had given that she had heard Mr Abney's remarks. - -'It really won't be necessary to trouble Mr Burns,' she said, -without looking at me. 'I can take care of Ogden very well by -myself.' - -'In the case of an--ah--ordinary boy, Mrs Sheridan, I should not -hesitate to leave you in sole charge as you have very kindly -offered to stay and help me in this matter. But we must recollect -not only--I speak frankly--not only the peculiar--ah--disposition -of this particular lad, but also the fact that those ruffians who -visited the house that night may possibly seize the opportunity to -make a fresh attack. I should not feel--ah--justified in -thrusting so heavy a responsibility upon you.' - -There was reason in what he said. Audrey made no reply. I heard -her pen tapping on the desk and deduced her feelings. I, myself, -felt like a prisoner who, having filed through the bars of his -cell, is removed to another on the eve of escape. I had so braced -myself up to endure till the end of term and no longer that this -postponement of the day of release had a crushing effect. - -Mr Abney coughed and lowered his voice confidentially. - -'I would stay myself, but the fact is, I am called to London on -very urgent business, and shall be unable to return for a day or -so. My late pupil, the--ah--the Earl of Buxton, has been--I can -rely on your discretion, Mr Burns--has been in trouble with the -authorities at Eton, and his guardian, an old college friend of -mine--the--in fact, the Duke of Bessborough, who, rightly or wrongly, -places--er--considerable reliance on my advice, is anxious to consult -me on the matter. I shall return as soon as possible, but you will -readily understand that, in the circumstances, my time will not be my -own. I must place myself unreservedly at--ah--Bessborough's disposal.' - -He pressed the bell. - -'In the event of your observing any suspicious characters in -the neighbourhood, you have the telephone and can instantly -communicate with the police. And you will have the assistance of--' - -The door opened and Smooth Sam Fisher entered. - -'You rang, sir?' - -'Ah! Come in, White, and close the door. I have something to say -to you. I have just been informing Mr Burns that Mr Ford has -written asking me to allow his son to stay on at the school for -the first few days of the vacation.' - -He turned to Audrey. - -'You will doubtless be surprised, Mrs Sheridan, and -possibly--ah--somewhat startled, to learn the peculiar nature of -White's position at Sanstead House. You have no objection to my -informing Mrs Sheridan, White, in consideration of the fact that you -will be working together in this matter? Just so. White is a detective -in the employment of Pinkerton's Agency. Mr Ford'--a slight frown -appeared on his lofty brow--'Mr Ford obtained his present situation -for him in order that he might protect his son in the event -of--ah--in fact, any attempt to remove him.' - -I saw Audrey start. A quick flush came into her face. She uttered -a little exclamation of astonishment. - -'Just so,' said Mr Abney, by way of comment on this. 'You are -naturally surprised. The whole arrangement is excessively unusual, -and, I may say--ah--disturbing. However, you have your duty to -fulfil to your employer, White, and you will, of course, remain -here with the boy.' - -'Yes, sir.' - -I found myself looking into a bright brown eye that gleamed with -genial triumph. The other was closed. In the exuberance of the -moment, Smooth Sam had had the bad taste to wink at me. - -'You will have Mr Burns to help you, White. He has kindly -consented to postpone his departure during the short period in -which I shall be compelled to be absent.' - -I had no recollection of having given any kind consent, but I was -very willing to have it assumed, and I was glad to see that Mr -Fisher, though Mr Abney did not observe it, was visibly taken -aback by this piece of information. But he made one of his swift -recoveries. - -'It is very kind of Mr Burns,' he said in his fruitiest voice, -'but I hardly think it will be necessary to put him to the -inconvenience of altering his plans. I am sure that Mr Ford would -prefer the entire charge of the affair to be in my hands.' - -He had not chosen a happy moment for the introduction of the -millionaire's name. Mr Abney was a man of method, who hated any -dislocation of the fixed routine of life; and Mr Ford's letter had -upset him. The Ford family, father and son, were just then -extremely unpopular with him. - -He crushed Sam. - -'What Mr Ford would or would not prefer is, in this particular -matter, beside the point. The responsibility for the boy, while he -remains on the school premises, is--ah--mine, and I shall take -such precautions as seem fit and adequate to--him--myself, -irrespective of those which, in your opinion, might suggest -themselves to Mr Ford. As I cannot be here myself, owing -to--ah--urgent business in London, I shall certainly take -advantage of Mr Burns's kind offer to remain as my deputy.' - -He paused and blew his nose, his invariable custom after these -occasional outbursts of his. Sam had not wilted beneath the storm. -He waited, unmoved, till all was over: - -'I am afraid I shall have to be more explicit,' he said: 'I had -hoped to avoid scandal and unpleasantness, but I see it is -impossible.' - -Mr Abney's astonished face emerged slowly from behind his -handkerchief. - -'I quite agree with you, sir, that somebody should be here to help -me look after the boy, but not Mr Burns. I am sorry to have to say -it, but I do not trust Mr Burns.' - -Mr Abney's look of astonishment deepened. I, too, was surprised. -It was so unlike Sam to fling away his chances on a blundering -attack like this. - -'What do you mean?' demanded Mr Abney. - -'Mr Burns is after the boy himself. He came to kidnap him.' - -Mr Abney, as he had every excuse for doing, grunted with -amazement. I achieved the ringing laugh of amused innocence. It -was beyond me to fathom Sam's mind. He could not suppose that any -credence would be given to his wild assertion. It seemed to me -that disappointment had caused him momentarily to lose his head. - -'Are you mad, White?' - -'No, sir. I can prove what I say. If I had not gone to London with -him that last time, he'd have got away with the boy then, for -certain.' - -For an instant an uneasy thought came to me that he might have -something in reserve, something unknown to me, which had -encouraged him to this direct attack. I dismissed the notion. -There could be nothing. - -Mr Abney had turned to me with a look of hopeless bewilderment. I -raised my eyebrows. - -'Ridiculous,' I said. - -That this was the only comment seemed to be Mr Abney's view. He -turned on Sam with the pettish anger of the mild man. - -'What do you _mean_, White, by coming to me with such a -preposterous story?' - -'I don't say Mr Burns wished to kidnap the boy in the ordinary -way,' said Sam imperturbably, 'like those men who came that night. -He had a special reason. Mr and Mrs Ford, as of course you know, -sir, are divorced. Mr Burns was trying to get the boy away and -take him back to his mother.' - -I heard Audrey give a little gasp. Mr Abney's anger became -modified by a touch of doubt. I could see that these words, by -lifting the accusation from the wholly absurd to the somewhat -plausible, had impressed him. Once again I was gripped by the -uneasy feeling that Sam had an unsuspected card to play. This -might be bluff, but it had a sinister ring. - -'You might say,' went on Sam smoothly, 'that this was creditable -to Mr Burns's heart. But, from my employer's viewpoint and yours, -too, it was a chivalrous impulse that needed to be checked. Will -you please read this, sir?' - -He handed a letter to Mr Abney, who adjusted his glasses and began -to read--at first in a detached, judicial way, then with startled -eagerness. - -'I felt it necessary to search among Mr Burns's papers, sir, in -the hope of finding--' - -And then I knew what he had found. From the first the blue-grey -notepaper had had a familiar look. I recognized it now. It was -Cynthia's letter, that damning document which I had been mad -enough to read to him in London. His prediction that the luck -would change had come amazingly true. - -I caught Sam's eye. For the second time he was unfeeling enough to -wink. It was a rich, comprehensive wink, as expressive and joyous -as a college yell. - -Mr Abney had absorbed the letter and was struggling for speech. I -could appreciate his emotion. If he had not actually been -nurturing a viper in his bosom, he had come, from his point of -view, very near it. Of all men, a schoolmaster necessarily looks -with the heartiest dislike on the would-be kidnapper. - -As for me, my mind was in a whirl. I was entirely without a plan, -without the very beginnings of a plan, to help me cope with this -appalling situation. I was crushed by a sense of the utter -helplessness of my position. To denounce Sam was impossible; to -explain my comparative innocence was equally out of the question. -The suddenness of the onslaught had deprived me of the power of -coherent thought. I was routed. - -Mr Abney was speaking. - -'Is your name Peter, Mr Burns?' - -I nodded. Speech was beyond me. - -'This letter is written by--ah--by a lady. It asks you in set -terms to--ah--hasten to kidnap Ogden Ford. Do you wish me to read -it to you? Or do you confess to knowing its contents?' - -He waited for a reply. I had none to make. - -'You do not deny that you came to Sanstead House for the -deliberate purpose of kidnapping Ogden Ford?' - -I had nothing to say. I caught a glimpse of Audrey's face, cold -and hard, and shifted my eyes quickly. Mr Abney gulped. His face -wore the reproachful expression of a cod-fish when jerked out of -the water on the end of a line. He stared at me with pained -repulsion. That scoundrelly old buccaneer Sam did the same. He -looked like a shocked bishop. - -'I--ah--trusted you implicitly,' said Mr Abney. - -Sam wagged his head at me reproachfully. With a flicker of spirit -I glared at him. He only wagged the more. - -It was, I think, the blackest moment of my life. A wild desire for -escape on any terms surged over me. That look on Audrey's face was -biting into my brain like an acid. - -'I will go and pack,' I said. - -'This is the end of all things,' I said to myself. - -I had suspended my packing in order to sit on my bed and brood. I -was utterly depressed. There are crises in a man's life when -Reason fails to bring the slightest consolation. In vain I tried -to tell myself that what had happened was, in essence, precisely -what, twenty-four hours ago, I was so eager to bring about. It -amounted to this, that now, at last, Audrey had definitely gone -out of my life. From now on I could have no relations with her of -any sort. Was not this exactly what, twenty-four hours ago, I had -wished? Twenty-four hours ago had I not said to myself that I -would go away and never see her again? Undoubtedly. Nevertheless, -I sat there and groaned in spirit. - -It was the end of all things. - -A mild voice interrupted my meditations. - -'Can I help?' - -Sam was standing in the doorway, beaming on me with invincible -good-humour. - -'You are handling them wrong. Allow me. A moment more and you -would have ruined the crease.' - -I became aware of a pair of trousers hanging limply in my grasp. -He took them from me, and, folding them neatly, placed them in my -trunk. - -'Don't get all worked up about it, sonny,' he said. 'It's the -fortune of war. Besides, what does it matter to you? Judging by -that very snug apartment in London, you have quite enough money -for a young man. Losing your job here won't break you. And, if -you're worrying about Mrs Ford and her feelings, don't! I guess -she's probably forgotten all about the Nugget by this time. So -cheer up. _You're_ all right!' - -He stretched out a hand to pat me on the shoulder, then thought -better of it and drew it back. - -'Think of _my_ happiness, if you want something to make you -feel good. Believe me, young man, it's _some_. I could sing! -Gee, when I think that it's all plain sailing now and no more -troubles, I could dance! You don't know what it means to me, -putting through this deal. I wish you knew Mary! That's her name. -You must come and visit us, sonny, when we're fixed up in the -home. There'll always be a knife and fork for _you_. We'll -make you one of the family! Lord! I can see the place as plain as -I can see you. Nice frame house with a good porch.... Me in a -rocker in my shirt-sleeves, smoking a cigar and reading the -baseball news; Mary in another rocker, mending my socks and -nursing the cat! We'll sure have a cat. Two cats. I like cats. And -a goat in the front garden. Say, it'll be _great!_' - -And on the word, emotion overcoming prudence, he brought his fat -hand down with a resounding smack on my bowed shoulders. - -There is a limit. I bounded to my feet. - -'Get out!' I yelped. 'Get out of here!' - -'Sure,' he replied agreeably. He rose without haste and regarded -me compassionately. 'Cheer up, son! Be a sport!' - -There are moments when the best of men become melodramatic. I -offer this as excuse for my next observation. - -Clenching my fists and glaring at him, I cried, 'I'll foil you -yet, you hound!' - -Some people have no soul for the dramatic. He smiled tolerantly. - -'Sure,' he said. 'Anything you like, Desperate Desmond. Enjoy -yourself!' - -And he left me. - - - - -Chapter 13 - - -I evacuated Sanstead House unostentatiously, setting off on foot -down the long drive. My luggage, I gathered, was to follow me to -the station in a cart. I was thankful to Providence for the small -mercy that the boys were in their classrooms and consequently -unable to ask me questions. Augustus Beckford alone would have -handled the subject of my premature exit in a manner calculated to -bleach my hair. - -It was a wonderful morning. The sky was an unclouded blue, and a -fresh breeze was blowing in from the sea. I think that something -of the exhilaration of approaching spring must have stirred me, -for quite suddenly the dull depression with which I had started my -walk left me, and I found myself alert and full of schemes. - -Why should I feebly withdraw from the struggle? Why should I give -in to Smooth Sam in this tame way? The memory of that wink came -back to me with a tonic effect. I would show him that I was still -a factor in the game. If the house was closed to me, was there not -the 'Feathers'? I could lie in hiding there, and observe his -movements unseen. - -I stopped on reaching the inn, and was on the point of entering -and taking up my position at once, when it occurred to me that -this would be a false move. It was possible that Sam would not -take my departure for granted so readily as I assumed. It was -Sam's way to do a thing thoroughly, and the probability was that, -if he did not actually come to see me off, he would at least make -inquiries at the station to find out if I had gone. I walked on. - -He was not at the station. Nor did he arrive in the cart with my -trunk. But I was resolved to risk nothing. I bought a ticket for -London, and boarded the London train. It had been my intention to -leave it at Guildford and catch an afternoon train back to -Stanstead; but it seemed to me, on reflection, that this was -unnecessary. There was no likelihood of Sam making any move in the -matter of the Nugget until the following day. I could take my time -about returning. - -I spent the night in London, and arrived at Sanstead by an early -morning train with a suit-case containing, among other things, a -Browning pistol. I was a little ashamed of this purchase. To the -Buck MacGinnis type of man, I suppose, a pistol is as commonplace -a possession as a pair of shoes, but I blushed as I entered the -gun-shop. If it had been Buck with whom I was about to deal, I -should have felt less self-conscious. But there was something -about Sam which made pistols ridiculous. - -My first act, after engaging a room at the inn and leaving my -suit-case, was to walk to the school. Before doing anything else, -I felt I must see Audrey and tell her the facts in the case of -Smooth Sam. If she were on her guard, my assistance might not be -needed. But her present state of trust in him was fatal. - -A school, when the boys are away, is a lonely place. The deserted -air of the grounds, as I slipped cautiously through the trees, was -almost eerie. A stillness brooded over everything, as if the place -had been laid under a spell. Never before had I been so impressed -with the isolation of Sanstead House. Anything might happen in -this lonely spot, and the world would go on its way in ignorance. -It was with quite distinct relief that, as I drew nearer the -house, I caught sight of the wire of the telephone among the trees -above my head. It had a practical, comforting look. - -A tradesman's cart rattled up the drive and disappeared round the -side of the house. This reminder, also, of the outside world was -pleasant. But I could not rid myself of the feeling that the -atmosphere of the place was sinister. I attributed it to the fact -that I was a spy in an enemy's country. I had to see without being -seen. I did not imagine that Johnson, grocer, who had just passed -in his cart, found anything wrong with the atmosphere. It was -created for me by my own furtive attitude. - -Of Audrey and Ogden there were no signs. That they were out -somewhere in the grounds this mellow spring morning I took for -granted; but I could not make an extended search. Already I had -come nearer to the house than was prudent. - -My eye caught the telephone wire again and an idea came to me. I -would call her up from the inn and ask her to meet me. There was -the risk that the call would be answered by Smooth Sam, but it was -not great. Sam, unless he had thrown off his role of butler -completely--which would be unlike the artist that he was--would be -in the housekeeper's room, and the ringing of the telephone, which -was in the study, would not penetrate to him. - -I chose a moment when dinner was likely to be over and Audrey -might be expected to be in the drawing-room. - -I had deduced her movements correctly. It was her voice that -answered the call. - -'This is Peter Burns speaking.' - -There was a perceptible pause before she replied. When she did, -her voice was cold. - -'Yes?' - -'I want to speak to you on a matter of urgent importance.' - -'Well?' - -'I can't do it through the telephone. Will you meet me in half an -hour's time at the gate?' - -'Where are you speaking from?' - -'The "Feathers". I am staying there.' - -'I thought you were in London.' - -'I came back. Will you meet me?' - -She hesitated. - -'Why?' - -'Because I have something important to say to you--important to -you.' - -There was another pause. - -'Very well.' - -'In half an hour, then. Is Ogden Ford in bed?' - -'Yes.' - -'Is his door locked?' - -'No.' - -'Then lock it and bring the key with you.' - -'Why?' - -'I will tell you when we meet.' - -'I will bring it.' - -'Thank you. Good-bye.' - -I hung up the receiver and set out at once for the school. - -She was waiting in the road, a small, indistinct figure in the -darkness. - -'Is that you--Peter?' - -Her voice had hesitated at the name, as if at some obstacle. It -was a trivial thing, but, in my present mood, it stung me. - -'I'm afraid I'm late. I won't keep you long. Shall we walk down -the road? You may not have been followed, but it is as well to be -on the safe side.' - -'Followed? I don't understand.' - -We walked a few paces and halted. - -'Who would follow me?' - -'A very eminent person of the name of Smooth Sam Fisher.' - -'Smooth Sam Fisher?' - -'Better known to you as White.' - -'I don't understand.' - -'I should be surprised if you did. I asked you to meet me here so -that I could make you understand. The man who poses as a -Pinkerton's detective, and is staying in the house to help you -take care of Ogden Ford, is Smooth Sam Fisher, a professional -kidnapper.' - -'But--but--' - -'But what proof have I? Was that what you were going to say? None. -But I had the information from the man himself. He told me in the -train that night going to London.' - -She spoke quickly. I knew from her tone that she thought she had -detected a flaw in my story. - -'Why did he tell you?' - -'Because he needed me as an accomplice. He wanted my help. It was -I who got Ogden away that day. Sam overheard me giving money and -directions to him, telling him how to get away from the school and -where to go, and he gathered--correctly--that I was in the same -line of business as himself. He suggested a partnership which I -was unable to accept.' - -'Why?' - -'Our objects were different. My motive in kidnapping Ogden was not -to extract a ransom.' - -She blazed out at me in an absolutely unexpected manner. Till now -she had listened so calmly and asked her questions with such a -notable absence of emotion that the outburst overwhelmed me. - -'Oh, I know what your motive was. There is no need to explain -that. Isn't there any depth to which a man who thinks himself in -love won't stoop? I suppose you told yourself you were doing -something noble and chivalrous? A woman of her sort can trick a -man into whatever meanness she pleases, and, just because she asks -him, he thinks himself a kind of knight-errant. I suppose she -told you that he had ill-treated her and didn't appreciate her -higher self, and all that sort of thing? She looked at you with -those big brown eyes of hers--I can see her--and drooped, and -cried, till you were ready to do anything she asked you.' - -'Whom do you mean?' - -'Mrs Ford, of course. The woman who sent you here to steal Ogden. -The woman who wrote you that letter.' - -'She did not write that letter. But never mind that. The reason -why I wanted you to come here was to warn you against Sam Fisher. -That was all. If there is any way in which I can help you, send -for me. If you like, I will come and stay at the house till Mr -Abney returns.' - -Before the words were out of my mouth, I saw that I had made a -mistake. The balance of her mind was poised between suspicion and -belief, and my offer turned the scale. - -'No, thank you,' she said curtly. - -'You don't trust me?' - -'Why should I? White may or may not be Sam Fisher. I shall be on -my guard, and I thank you for telling me. But why should I trust -you? It all hangs together. You told me you were engaged to be -married. You come here on an errand which no man would undertake -except for a woman, and a woman with whom he was very much in -love. There is that letter, imploring you to steal the boy. I know -what a man will do for a woman he is fond of. Why should I trust -you?' - -'There is this. You forget that I had the opportunity to steal -Ogden if I had wanted to. I had got him away to London. But I -brought him back. I did it because you had told me what it meant -to you.' - -She hesitated, but only for an instant. Suspicion was too strong -for her. - -'I don't believe you. You brought him back because this man whom -you call Fisher got to know of your plans. Why should you have -done it because of me? Why should you have put my interests before -Mrs Ford's? I am nothing to you.' - -For a moment a mad impulse seized me to cast away all restraint, -to pour out the unspoken words that danced like imps in my brain, -to make her understand, whatever the cost, my feelings towards -her. But the thought of my letter to Cynthia checked me. That -letter had been the irrevocable step. If I was to preserve a shred -of self-respect I must be silent. - -'Very well,' I said, 'good night.' And I turned to go. - -'Peter!' - -There was something in her voice which whirled me round, -thrilling, despite my resolution. - -'Are you going?' - -Weakness would now be my undoing. I steadied myself and answered -abruptly. - -'I have said all I came to say. Good night.' - -I turned once more and walked quickly off towards the village. I -came near to running. I was in the mood when flight alone can save -a man. She did not speak again, and soon I was out of danger, -hurrying on through the friendly darkness, beyond the reach of her -voice. - -The bright light from the doorway of the 'Feathers', was the only -illumination that relieved the blackness of the Market Square. As -I approached, a man came out and stopped in the entrance to light -a cigar. His back was turned towards me as he crouched to protect -the match from the breeze, but something in his appearance seemed -familiar. - -I had only a glimpse of him as he straightened himself and walked -out of the pool of light into the Square, but it was enough. - -It was my much-enduring acquaintance, Mr Buck MacGinnis. - - - - -Chapter 14 - - -I - -At the receipt of custom behind the bar sat Miss Benjafield, -stately as ever, relaxing her massive mind over a penny novelette. - -'Who was the man who just left, Miss Benjafield?' I asked. - -She marked the place with a shapely thumb and looked up. - -'The man? Oh, _him_! He's--why, weren't you in here, Mr Burns, -one evening in January when--' - -'That American?' - -'That's him. What he's doing here I don't know. He disappeared -quite a while back, and I haven't seen him since. _Nor_ want. -Tonight up he turns again like a bad ha'penny. I'd like to know -what he's after. No good, if you ask _me_.' - -Miss Benjafield's prejudices did not easily dissolve. She prided -herself, as she frequently observed, on knowing her own mind. - -'Is he staying here?' - -'Not at the "Feathers". We're particular who we have here.' - -I thanked her for the implied compliment, ordered beer for the -good of the house, and, lighting a pipe, sat down to meditate on -this new development. - -The vultures were gathered together with a vengeance. Sam within, -Buck without, it was quite like old times, with the difference -that now, I, too, was on the wrong side of the school door. - -It was not hard to account for Buck's reappearance. He would, of -course, have made it his business to get early information of Mr -Ford's movements. It would be easy for him to discover that the -millionaire had been called away to the north and that the Nugget -was still an inmate of Sanstead House. And here he was preparing -for the grand attack. - -I had been premature in removing Buck's name from the list of -active combatants. Broken legs mend. I ought to have remembered -that. - -His presence on the scene made, I perceived, a vast difference to -my plan of campaign. It was at this point that my purchase of the -Browning pistol lost its absurdity and appeared in the light of an -acute strategic move. With Sam the only menace, I had been -prepared to play a purely waiting game, watching proceedings from -afar, ready to give my help if necessary. To check Buck, more -strenuous methods were called for. - -My mind was made up. With Buck, that stout disciple of the frontal -attack, in the field, there was only one place for me. I must get -into Sanstead House and stay there on guard. - -Did he intend to make an offensive movement tonight? That was the -question which occupied my mind. From the point of view of an -opponent, there was this merit about Mr MacGinnis, that he was -not subtle. He could be counted on with fair certainty to do -the direct thing. Sooner or later he would make another of his -vigorous frontal attacks upon the stronghold. The only point to be -decided was whether he would make it that night. Would professional -zeal cause him to omit his beauty sleep? - -I did not relish the idea of spending the night patrolling the -grounds, but it was imperative that the house be protected. Then -it occurred to me that the man for the vigil was Smooth Sam. If -the arrival of Mr MacGinnis had complicated matters in one way, it -had simplified them in another, for there was no more need for the -secrecy which had been, till now, the basis of my plan of action. -Buck's arrival made it possible for me to come out and fight in -the open, instead of brooding over Sanstead House from afar like a -Providence. Tomorrow I proposed to turn Sam out. Tonight I would use -him. The thing had resolved itself into a triangular tournament, -and Sam and Buck should play the first game. - -Once more I called up the house on the telephone. There was a long -delay before a reply came. It was Mr Fisher's voice that spoke. -Audrey, apparently, had not returned to the house immediately -after leaving me. - -'Hullo!' said Sam. - -'Good evening, Mr Fisher.' - -'Gee! Is that you, young fellow-me-lad? Are you speaking from -London?' - -'No. I am at the "Feathers".' - -He chuckled richly. - -'Can't tear yourself away? Hat still in the ring? Say, what's the -use? Why not turn it up, sonny? You're only wasting your time.' - -'Do you sleep lightly, Mr Fisher?' - -'I don't get you.' - -'You had better do so tonight. Buck MacGinnis is back again.' - -There was silence at the other end of the wire. Then I heard him -swear softly. The significance of the information had not been -lost on Mr Fisher. - -'Is that straight?' - -'It is.' - -'You're not stringing me?' - -'Certainly not.' - -'You're sure it was Buck?' - -'Is Buck's the sort of face one forgets?' - -He swore again. - -'You seem disturbed,' I said. - -'Where did you see him?' asked Sam. - -'Coming out of the "Feathers", looking very fierce and determined. -The Berserk blood of the MacGinnises is up. He's going to do or -die. I'm afraid this means an all-night sitting for you, Mr -Fisher.' - -'I thought you had put him out of business!' - -There was a somewhat querulous note in his voice. - -'Only temporarily. I did my best, but he wasn't even limping when -I saw him.' - -He did not speak for a moment. I gathered that he was pondering -over the new development. - -'Thanks for tipping me off, sonny. It's a thing worth knowing. Why -did you do it?' - -'Because I love you, Samuel. Good night.' - -I rose late and breakfasted at my leisure. The peace of the -English country inn enveloped me as I tilted back my chair and -smoked the first pipe of the morning. It was a day to hearten a -man for great deeds, one of those days of premature summer which -comes sometimes to help us bear the chill winds of early spring. -The sun streamed in through the open window. In the yard below -fowls made their soothing music. The thought of violence seemed -very alien to such a morning. - -I strolled out into the Square. I was in no hurry to end this -interlude of peace and embark on what, for all practical purposes, -would be a siege. - -After lunch, I decided, would be time enough to begin active -campaigning. - -The clock on the church tower was striking two as I set forth, -carrying my suit-case, on my way to the school. The light-heartedness -of the morning still lingered with me. I was amused at the thought -of the surprise I was about to give Mr Fisher. That wink still -rankled. - -As I made my way through the grounds I saw Audrey in the distance, -walking with the Nugget. I avoided them and went on into the -house. - -About the house there was the same air of enchanted quiet which -pervaded the grounds. Perhaps the stillness indoors was even more -insistent. I had grown so accustomed to the never-ending noise and -bustle of the boys' quarters that, as I crossed the silent hall, I -had an almost guilty sense of intrusion. I felt like a burglar. - -Sam, the object of my visit, would, I imagined, if he were in the -house at all, be in the housekeeper's room, a cosy little apartment -off the passage leading to the kitchen. I decided to draw that -first, and was rewarded, on pushing open the half-closed door, by -the sight of a pair of black-trousered legs stretched out before me -from the depths of a wicker-work armchair. His portly middle -section, rising beyond like a small hill, heaved rhythmically. His -face was covered with a silk handkerchief, from beneath which came, -in even succession, faint and comfortable snores. It was a peaceful -picture--the good man taking his rest; and for me it had an added -attractiveness in that it suggested that Sam was doing by day what -my information had prevented him from doing in the night. It had -been some small consolation to me, as I lay trying to compose my -anxious mind for sleep on the previous night, that Mr Fisher also -was keeping his vigil. - -Pleasing as Sam was as a study in still life, pressure of business -compelled me to stir him into activity. I prodded him gently in -the centre of the rising territory beyond the black trousers. He -grunted discontentedly and sat up. The handkerchief fell from his -face, and he blinked at me, first with the dazed glassiness of the -newly awakened, then with a 'Soul's Awakening' expression, which -spread over his face until it melted into a friendly smile. - -'Hello, young man!' - -'Good afternoon. You seem tired.' - -He yawned cavernously. - -'Lord! What a night!' - -'Did Buck drop in?' - -'No, but I thought he had every time I heard a board creak. I -didn't dare close my eyes for a minute. Have you ever stayed awake -all night, waiting for the goblins that get you if you don't watch -out? Well, take it from me it's no picnic.' - -His face split in another mammoth yawn. He threw his heart into -it, as if life held no other tasks for him. Only in alligators -have I ever seen its equal. - -I waited till the seismic upheaval had spent itself. Then I came -to business. - -'I'm sorry you had a disturbed night, Mr Fisher. You must make up -for it this afternoon. You will find the beds very comfortable.' - -'How's that?' - -'At the "Feathers". I should go there, if I were you. The charges -are quite reasonable, and the food is good. You will like the -"Feathers".' - -'I don't get you, sonny.' - -'I was trying to break it gently to you that you are about to move -from this house. Now. At once. Take your last glimpse of the old -home, Sam, and out into the hard world.' - -He looked at me inquiringly. - -'You seem to be talking, young man; words appear to be fluttering -from you; but your meaning, if any, escapes me.' - -'My meaning is that I am about to turn you out. I am coming back -here, and there is not room for both of us. So, if you do not see -your way to going quietly, I shall take you by the back of the -neck and run you out. Do I make myself fairly clear now?' - -He permitted himself a rich chuckle. - -'You have gall, young man. Well, I hate to seem unfriendly. I like -you, sonny. You amuse me--but there are moments when one wants to -be alone. I have a whole heap of arrears of sleep to make up. Trot -along, kiddo, and quit disturbing uncle. Tie a string to yourself -and disappear. Bye-bye.' - -The wicker-work creaked as he settled his stout body. He picked up -the handkerchief. - -'Mr Fisher,' I said, 'I have no wish to propel your grey hairs at -a rapid run down the drive, so I will explain further. I am -physically stronger than you. I mean to turn you out. How can you -prevent it? Mr Abney is away. You can't appeal to him. The police -are at the end of the telephone, but you can't appeal to them. So -what _can_ you do, except go? Do you get me now?' - -He regarded the situation in thoughtful silence. He allowed no -emotion to find expression in his face, but I knew that the -significance of my remarks had sunk in. I could almost follow his -mind as he tested my position point by point and found it -impregnable. - -When he spoke it was to accept defeat jauntily. - -'You _are_ my jinx, young man. I said it all along. You're -really set on my going? Say no more. I'll go. After all, it's -quiet at the inn, and what more does a man want at my time of -life?' - -I went out into the garden to interview Audrey. - -She was walking up and down on the tennis-lawn. The Nugget, -lounging in a deck-chair, appeared to be asleep. - -She caught sight of me as I came out from the belt of trees, and -stopped. I had the trying experience of walking across open -country under hostile observation. - -The routing of Sam had left me alert and self-confident. I felt no -embarrassment. I greeted her briskly. - -'Good afternoon. I have been talking to Sam Fisher. If you wait, -you will see him passing away down the drive. He is leaving the -house. I am coming back.' - -'Coming back?' - -She spoke incredulously, or, rather, as if my words had conveyed -no meaning. It was so that Sam had spoken. Her mind, like his, -took time to adjust itself to the unexpected. - -She seemed to awake to my meaning with a start. - -'Coming back?' Her eyes widened. The flush deepened on her cheeks. -'But I told you--' - -'I know what you told me. You said you did not trust me. It -doesn't matter. I am coming back whether you trust me or not. This -house is under martial law, and I am in command. The situation has -changed since I spoke to you last night. Last night I was ready to -let you have your way. I intended to keep an eye on things from -the inn. But it's different now. It is not a case of Sam Fisher -any longer. You could have managed Sam. It's Buck MacGinnis now, -the man who came that night in the automobile. I saw him in the -village after I left you. He's dangerous.' - -She looked away, past me, in the direction of the drive. I -followed her gaze. A stout figure, carrying a suit-case, was -moving slowly down it. - -I smiled. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the anger that had been -lying at the back of them flash out. Her chin went up with the old -defiant tilt. I was sorry I had smiled. It was my old fault, the -complacency that would not be hidden. - -'I don't believe you!' she cried. 'I don't trust you!' - -It is curious how one's motive for embarking on a course of -conduct changes or disappears altogether as the action develops. -Once started on an enterprise it is as if one proceeded with it -automatically, irrespective of one's original motives. I had begun -what I might call the second phase of this matter of the Little -Nugget, the abandoning of Cynthia's cause in favour of Audrey's, -with a clear idea of why I was doing it. I had set myself to -resist the various forces which were trying to take Ogden from -Audrey, for one simple reason, because I loved Audrey and wished -to help her. That motive, if it still existed at all, did so only -in the form of abstract chivalry. My personal feelings towards her -seemed to have undergone a complete change, dating from our -parting in the road the night before. I found myself now meeting -hostility with hostility. I looked at her critically and told -myself that her spell was broken at last, that, if she disliked -me, I was at least indifferent to her. - -And yet, despite my altered feelings, my determination to help her -never wavered. The guarding of Ogden might be--primarily--no -business of mine, but I had adopted it as my business. - -'I don't ask you to trust me,' I said. 'We have settled all that. -There's no need to go over old ground. Think what you please about -this. I've made up my mind.' - -'If you mean to stay, I suppose I can't prevent you.' - -'Exactly.' - -Sam appeared again in a gap in the trees, walking slowly and -pensively, as one retreating from his Moscow. Her eyes followed -him till he was out of sight. - -'If you like,' I said bitterly, 'you may put what I am doing down -to professional rivalry. If I am in love with Mrs Ford and am here -to steal Ogden for her, it is natural for me to do all I can to -prevent Buck MacGinnis getting him. There is no need for you to -look on me as an ally because we are working together.' - -'We are not working together.' - -'We shall be in a very short time. Buck will not let another night -go by without doing something.' - -'I don't believe that you saw him.' - -'Just as you please,' I said, and walked away. What did it matter -to me what she believed? - -The day dragged on. Towards evening the weather broke suddenly, -after the fashion of spring in England. Showers of rain drove me -to the study. - -It must have been nearly ten o'clock when the telephone rang. - -It was Mr Fisher. - -'Hello, is that you, sonny?' - -'It is. Do you want anything?' - -'I want a talk with you. Business. Can I come up?' - -'If you wish it.' - -'I'll start right away.' - -It was some fifteen minutes later that I heard in the distance the -engines of an automobile. The headlights gleamed through the -trees, and presently the car swept round the bend of the drive and -drew up at the front door. A portly figure got down and rang the -bell. I observed these things from a window on the first floor, -overlooking the front steps; and it was from this window that I -spoke. - -'Is that you, Mr Fisher?' - -He backed away from the door. - -'Where are you?' - -'Is that your car?' - -'It belongs to a friend of mine.' - -'I didn't know you meant to bring a party.' - -'There's only three of us. Me, the chauffeur, and my friend--MacGinnis.' - -The possibility, indeed the probability, of Sam seeking out Buck -and forming an alliance had occurred to me, and I was prepared for -it. I shifted my grip on the automatic pistol in my hand. - -'Mr Fisher.' - -'Hello!' - -'Ask your friend MacGinnis to be good enough to step into the -light of that lamp and drop his gun.' - -There was a muttered conversation. I heard Buck's voice rumbling -like a train going under a bridge. The request did not appear to -find favour with him. Then came an interlude of soothing speech -from Mr Fisher. I could not distinguish the words, but I gathered -that he was pointing out to him that, on this occasion only, the -visit being for the purposes of parley and not of attack, pistols -might be looked on as non-essentials. Whatever his arguments, they -were successful, for, finally, humped as to the back and -muttering, Buck moved into the light. - -'Good evening, Mr MacGinnis,' I said. 'I'm glad to see your leg is -all right again. I won't detain you a moment. Just feel in your -pockets and shed a few of your guns, and then you can come in out -of the rain. To prevent any misunderstanding, I may say I have a -gun of my own. It is trained on you now.' - -'I ain't got no gun.' - -'Come along. This is no time for airy persiflage. Out with them.' - -A moment's hesitation, and a small black pistol fell to the -ground. - -'No more?' - -'Think I'm a regiment?' - -'I don't know what you are. Well, I'll take your word for it. You -will come in one by one, with your hands up.' - -I went down and opened the door, holding my pistol in readiness -against the unexpected. - - -II - -Sam came first. His raised hands gave him a vaguely pontifical air -(Bishop Blessing Pilgrims), and the kindly smile he wore -heightened the illusion. Mr MacGinnis, who followed, suggested no -such idea. He was muttering moodily to himself, and he eyed me -askance. - -I showed them into the classroom and switched on the light. The -air was full of many odours. Disuse seems to bring out the -inky-chalky, appley-deal-boardy bouquet of a classroom as the -night brings out the scent of flowers. During the term I had never -known this classroom smell so exactly like a classroom. I made use -of my free hand to secure and light a cigarette. - -Sam rose to a point of order. - -'Young man,' he said. I should like to remind you that we are -here, as it were, under a flag of truce. To pull a gun on us and -keep us holding our hands up this way is raw work. I feel sure I -speak for my friend Mr MacGinnis.' - -He cocked an eye at his friend Mr MacGinnis, who seconded the -motion by expectorating into the fireplace. I had observed at a -previous interview his peculiar gift for laying bare his soul by -this means of mode of expression. A man of silent habit, judged by -the more conventional standard of words, he was almost an orator -in expectoration. - -'Mr MacGinnis agrees with me,' said Sam cheerfully. 'Do we take -them down? Have we your permission to assume Position Two of these -Swedish exercises? All we came for was a little friendly chat -among gentlemen, and we can talk just as well--speaking for -myself, better--in a less strained attitude. A little rest, Mr -Burns! A little folding of the hands? Thank you.' - -He did not wait for permission, nor was it necessary. Sam and the -melodramatic atmosphere was as oil and water. It was impossible to -blend them. I laid the pistol on the table and sat down. Buck, -after one wistful glance at the weapon, did the same. Sam was -already seated, and was looking so cosy and at home that I almost -felt it remiss of me not to have provided sherry and cake for this -pleasant gathering. - -'Well,' I said, 'what can I do for you?' - -'Let me explain,' said Sam. 'As you have, no doubt, gathered, Mr -MacGinnis and I have gone into partnership. The Little Nugget -Combine!' - -'I gathered that--well?' - -'Judicious partnerships are the soul of business. Mr MacGinnis and -I have been rivals in the past, but we both saw that the moment -had come for the genial smile, the hearty handshake, in fact, for -an alliance. We form a strong team, sonny. My partner's speciality -is action. I supply the strategy. Say, can't you see you're up -against it? Why be foolish?' - -'You think you're certain to win?' - -'It's a cinch.' - -'Then why trouble to come here and see me?' - -I appeared to have put into words the smouldering thought which -was vexing Mr MacGinnis. He burst into speech. - -'Ahr chee! Sure! What's de use? Didn't I tell youse? What's de use -of wastin' time? What are we spielin' away here for? Let's get -busy.' - -Sam waved a hand towards him with the air of a lecturer making a -point. - -'You see! The man of action! He likes trouble. He asks for it. He -eats it alive. Now I prefer peace. Why have a fuss when you can -get what you want quietly? That's my motto. That's why we've come. -It's the old proposition. We're here to buy you out. Yes, I know -you have turned the offer down before, but things have changed. -Your stock has fallen. In fact, instead of letting you in on -sharing terms, we only feel justified now in offering a commission. -For the moment you may seem to hold a strong position. You are in -the house, and you've got the boy. But there's nothing to it really. -We could get him in five minutes if we cared to risk having a fuss. -But it seems to me there's no need of any fuss. We should win dead -easy all right, if it came to trouble; but, on the other hand, -you've a gun, and there's a chance some of us might get hurt, so -what's the good when we can settle it quietly? How about it, sonny?' - -Mr MacGinnis began to rumble, preparatory to making further -remarks on the situation, but Sam waved him down and turned his -brown eyes inquiringly on me. - -'Fifteen per cent is our offer,' he said. - -'And to think it was once fifty-fifty!' - -'Strict business!' - -'Business? It's sweating!' - -'It's our limit. And it wasn't easy to make Buck here agree to -that. He kicked like a mule.' - -Buck shuffled his feet and eyed me disagreeably. I suppose it is -hard to think kindly of a man who has broken your leg. It was -plain that, with Mr MacGinnis, bygones were by no means bygones. - -I rose. - -'Well, I'm sorry you should have had the trouble of coming here -for nothing. Let me see you out. Single file, please.' - -Sam looked aggrieved. - -'You turn it down?' - -'I do.' - -'One moment. Let's have this thing clear. Do you realize what -you're up against? Don't think it's only Buck and me you've got to -tackle. All the boys are here, waiting round the corner, the same -gang that came the other night. Be sensible, sonny. You don't -stand a dog's chance. I shouldn't like to see you get hurt. And -you never know what may not happen. The boys are pretty sore at -you because of what you did that night. I shouldn't act like a -bonehead, sonny--honest.' - -There was a kindly ring in his voice which rather touched me. -Between him and me there had sprung up an odd sort of friendship. -He meant business; but he would, I knew, be genuinely sorry if I -came to harm. And I could see that he was quite sincere in his -belief that I was in a tight corner and that my chances against -the Combine were infinitesimal. I imagine that, with victory so -apparently certain, he had had difficulty in persuading his allies -to allow him to make his offer. - -But he had overlooked one thing--the telephone. That he should -have made this mistake surprised me. If it had been Buck, I could -have understood it. Buck's was a mind which lent itself to such -blunders. From Sam I had expected better things, especially as the -telephone had been so much in evidence of late. He had used it -himself only half an hour ago. - -I clung to the thought of the telephone. It gave me the quiet -satisfaction of the gambler who holds the unforeseen ace. The -situation was in my hands. The police, I knew, had been profoundly -stirred by Mr MacGinnis's previous raid. When I called them up, as -I proposed to do directly the door had closed on the ambassadors, -there would be no lack of response. It would not again be a case -of Inspector Bones and Constable Johnson to the rescue. A great -cloud of willing helpers would swoop to our help. - -With these thoughts in my mind, I answered Sam pleasantly but -firmly. - -'I'm sorry I'm unpopular, but all the same--' - -I indicated the door. - -Emotion that could only be expressed in words and not through his -usual medium welled up in Mr MacGinnis. He sprang forward with a -snarl, falling back as my faithful automatic caught his eye. - -'Say, you! Listen here! You'll--' - -Sam, the peaceable, plucked at his elbow. - -'Nothing doing, Buck. Step lively.' - -Buck wavered, then allowed himself to be drawn away. We passed out -of the classroom in our order of entry. - -An exclamation from the stairs made me look up. Audrey was leaning -over the banisters. Her face was in the shadow, but I gathered -from her voice that the sight of our little procession had -startled her. I was not surprised. Buck was a distinctly startling -spectacle, and his habit of growling to himself, as he walked, -highly disturbing to strangers. - -'Good evening, Mrs Sheridan,' said Sam suavely. - -Audrey did not speak. She seemed fascinated by Buck. - -I opened the front door and they passed out. The automobile was -still purring on the drive. Buck's pistol had disappeared. I -supposed the chauffeur had picked it up, a surmise which was -proved correct a few moments later, when, just as the car was -moving off, there was a sharp crack and a bullet struck the wall -to the right of the door. It was a random shot, and I did not -return it. Its effect on me was to send me into the hall with a -leap that was almost a back-somersault. Somehow, though I was -keyed up for violence and the shooting of pistols, I had not -expected it at just that moment, and I was disagreeably surprised -at the shock it had given me. I slammed the door and bolted it. I -was intensely irritated to find that my fingers were trembling. - -Audrey had left the stairs and was standing beside me. - -'They shot at me,' I said. - -By the light of the hall lamp I could see that she was very pale. - -'It missed by a mile.' My nerves had not recovered and I spoke -abruptly. 'Don't be frightened.' - -'I--I was not frightened,' she said, without conviction. - -'I was,' I said, with conviction. 'It was too sudden for me. It's -the sort of thing one wants to get used to gradually. I shall be -ready for it another time.' - -I made for the stairs. - -'Where are you going?' - -'I'm going to call up the police-station.' - -'Peter.' - -'Yes?' - -'Was--was that man the one you spoke of?' - -'Yes, that was Buck MacGinnis. He and Sam have gone into -partnership.' - -She hesitated. - -'I'm sorry,' she said. - -I was half-way up the stairs by this time. I stopped and looked -over the banisters. - -'Sorry?' - -'I didn't believe you this afternoon.' - -'Oh, that's all right,' I said. I tried to make my voice -indifferent, for I was on guard against insidious friendliness. I -had bludgeoned my mind into an attitude of safe hostility towards -her, and I saw the old chaos ahead if I allowed myself to abandon -it. - -I went to the telephone and unhooked the receiver. - -There is apt to be a certain leisureliness about the methods of -country telephone-operators, and the fact that a voice did not -immediately ask me what number I wanted did not at first disturb -me. Suspicion of the truth came to me, I think, after my third -shout into the receiver had remained unanswered. I had suffered -from delay before, but never such delay as this. - -I must have remained there fully two minutes, shouting at -intervals, before I realized the truth. Then I dropped the -receiver and leaned limply against the wall. For the moment I was -as stunned as if I had received a blow. I could not even think. It -was only by degrees that I recovered sufficiently to understand -that Audrey was speaking to me. - -'What is it? Don't they answer?' - -It is curious how the mind responds to the need for making an -effort for the sake of somebody else. If I had had only myself to -think of, it would, I believe, have been a considerable time -before I could have adjusted my thoughts to grapple with this -disaster. But the necessity of conveying the truth quietly to -Audrey and of helping her to bear up under it steadied me at once. -I found myself thinking quite coolly how best I might break to her -what had happened. - -'I'm afraid,' I said, 'I have something to tell you which may--' - -She interrupted me quickly. - -'What is it? Can't you make them answer?' - -I shook my head. We looked at each other in silence. - -Her mind leaped to the truth more quickly than mine had done. - -'They have cut the wire!' - -I took up the receiver again and gave another call. There was no -reply. - -'I'm afraid so,' I said. - - - - -Chapter 15 - - -I - -'What shall we do?' said Audrey. - -She looked at me hopefully, as if I were a mine of ideas. Her -voice was level, without a suggestion of fear in it. Women have -the gift of being courageous at times when they might legitimately -give way. It is part of their unexpectedness. - -This was certainly such an occasion. Daylight would bring us -relief, for I did not suppose that even Buck MacGinnis would care -to conduct a siege which might be interrupted by the arrival of -tradesmen's carts; but while the darkness lasted we were -completely cut off from the world. With the destruction of the -telephone wire our only link with civilization had been snapped. -Even had the night been less stormy than it was, there was no -chance of the noise of our warfare reaching the ears of anyone who -might come to the rescue. It was as Sam had said, Buck's energy -united to his strategy formed a strong combination. - -Broadly speaking, there are only two courses open to a beleaguered -garrison. It can stay where it is, or it can make a sortie. I -considered the second of these courses. - -It was possible that Sam and his allies had departed in the -automobile to get reinforcements, leaving the coast temporarily -clear; in which case, by escaping from the house at once, we might -be able to slip unobserved through the grounds and reach the -village in safety. To support this theory there was the fact that -the car, on its late visit, had contained only the chauffeur and -the two ambassadors, while Sam had spoken of the remainder of -Buck's gang as being in readiness to attack in the event of my not -coming to terms. That might mean that they were waiting at Buck's -headquarters, wherever those might be--at one of the cottages down -the road, I imagined; and, in the interval before the attack -began, it might be possible for us to make our sortie with -success. - -'Is Ogden in bed?' I asked. - -'Yes.' - -'Will you go and get him up as quickly as you can?' - -I strained my eyes at the window, but it was impossible to see -anything. The rain was still falling heavily. If the drive had -been full of men they would have been invisible to me. - -Presently Audrey returned, followed by Ogden. The Little Nugget -was yawning the aggrieved yawns of one roused from his beauty -sleep. - -'What's all this?' he demanded. - -'Listen,' I said. 'Buck MacGinnis and Smooth Sam Fisher have come -after you. They are outside now. Don't be frightened.' - -He snorted derisively. - -'Who's frightened? I guess they won't hurt _me_. How do you know -it's them?' - -'They have just been here. The man who called himself White, the -butler, was really Sam Fisher. He has been waiting an opportunity -to get you all the term.' - -'White! Was he Sam Fisher?' He chuckled admiringly. 'Say, he's a -wonder!' - -'They have gone to fetch the rest of the gang.' - -'Why don't you call the cops?' - -'They have cut the wire.' - -His only emotions at the news seemed to be amusement and a renewed -admiration for Smooth Sam. He smiled broadly, the little brute. - -'He's a wonder!' he repeated. 'I guess he's smooth, all right. -He's the limit! He'll get me all right this trip. I bet you a -nickel he wins out.' - -I found his attitude trying. That he, the cause of all the trouble, -should be so obviously regarding it as a sporting contest got up -for his entertainment, was hard to bear. And the fact that, whatever -might happen to myself, he was in no danger, comforted me not at all. -If I could have felt that we were in any way companions in peril, -I might have looked on the bulbous boy with quite a friendly eye. -As it was, I nearly kicked him. - -'We had better waste no time,' suggested Audrey, 'if we are going.' - -'I think we ought to try it,' I said. - -'What's that?' asked the Nugget. 'Go where?' - -'We are going to steal out through the back way and try to slip -through to the village.' - -The Nugget's comment on the scheme was brief and to the point. He -did not embarrass me with fulsome praise of my strategic genius. - -'Of all the fool games!' he said simply. 'In this rain? No, sir!' - -This new complication was too much for me. In planning out my -manoeuvres I had taken his cooperation for granted. I had looked -on him as so much baggage--the impedimenta of the retreating army. -And, behold, a mutineer! - -I took him by the scruff of the neck and shook him. It was a -relief to my feelings and a sound move. The argument was one which -he understood. - -'Oh, all right,' he said. 'Anything you like. Come on. But it sounds -to me like darned foolishness!' - -If nothing else had happened to spoil the success of that sortie, -the Nugget's depressing attitude would have done so. Of all things, -it seems to me, a forlorn hope should be undertaken with a certain -enthusiasm and optimism if it is to have a chance of being successful. -Ogden threw a gloom over the proceedings from the start. He was cross -and sleepy, and he condemned the expedition unequivocally. As we moved -towards the back door he kept up a running stream of abusive comment. -I silenced him before cautiously unbolting the door, but he had said -enough to damp my spirits. I do not know what effect it would have -had on Napoleon's tactics if his army--say, before Austerlitz--had -spoken of his manoeuvres as a 'fool game' and of himself as a 'big -chump', but I doubt if it would have stimulated him. - -The back door of Sanstead House opened on to a narrow yard, paved -with flagstones and shut in on all sides but one by walls. To the -left was the outhouse where the coal was stored, a squat barnlike -building: to the right a wall that appeared to have been erected -by the architect in an outburst of pure whimsicality. It just -stood there. It served no purpose that I had ever been able to -discover, except to act as a cats' club-house. - -Tonight, however, I was thankful for this wall. It formed an -important piece of cover. By keeping in its shelter it was -possible to work round the angle of the coal-shed, enter the -stable-yard, and, by making a detour across the football field, -avoid the drive altogether. And it was the drive, in my opinion, -that might be looked on as the danger zone. - -The Nugget's complaints, which I had momentarily succeeded in -checking, burst out afresh as the rain swept in at the open door -and lashed our faces. Certainly it was not an ideal night for a -ramble. The wind was blowing through the opening at the end of the -yard with a compressed violence due to the confined space. There -was a suggestion in our position of the Cave of the Winds under -Niagara Falls, the verisimilitude of which was increased by the -stream of water that poured down from the gutter above our heads. -The Nugget found it unpleasant, and said so shrilly. - -I pushed him out into the storm, still protesting, and we began to -creep across the yard. Half-way to the first point of importance -of our journey, the corner of the coal-shed, I halted the -expedition. There was a sudden lull in the wind, and I took -advantage of it to listen. - -From somewhere beyond the wall, apparently near the house, sounded -the muffled note of the automobile. The siege-party had returned. - -There was no time to be lost. Apparently the possibility of a -sortie had not yet occurred to Sam, or he would hardly have left -the back door unguarded; but a general of his astuteness was -certain to remedy the mistake soon, and our freedom of action -might be a thing of moments. It behoved us to reach the stable-yard -as quickly as possible. Once there, we should be practically through -the enemy's lines. - -Administering a kick to the Nugget, who showed a disposition to -linger and talk about the weather, I moved on, and we reached the -corner of the coal-shed in safety. - -We had now arrived at the really perilous stage in our journey. -Having built his wall to a point level with the end of the coal-shed, -the architect had apparently wearied of the thing and given it up; -for it ceased abruptly, leaving us with a matter of half a dozen -yards of open ground to cross, with nothing to screen us from the -watchers on the drive. The flagstones, moreover, stopped at this -point. On the open space was loose gravel. Even if the darkness -allowed us to make the crossing unseen, there was the risk that we -might be heard. - -It was a moment for a flash of inspiration, and I was waiting for -one, when that happened which took the problem out of my hands. -From the interior of the shed on our left there came a sudden -scrabbling of feet over loose coal, and through the square opening -in the wall, designed for the peaceful purpose of taking in sacks, -climbed two men. A pistol cracked. From the drive came an -answering shout. We had been ambushed. - -I had misjudged Sam. He had not overlooked the possibility of a -sortie. - -It is the accidents of life that turn the scale in a crisis. The -opening through which the men had leaped was scarcely a couple of -yards behind the spot where we were standing. If they had leaped -fairly and kept their feet, they would have been on us before we -could have moved. But Fortune ordered it that, zeal outrunning -discretion, the first of the two should catch his foot in the -woodwork and fall on all fours, while the second, unable to check -his spring, alighted on top of him, and, judging from the stifled -yell which followed, must have kicked him in the face. - -In the moment of their downfall I was able to form a plan and -execute it. - -'The stables!' - -I shouted the words to Audrey in the act of snatching up the -Nugget and starting to run. She understood. She did not hesitate -in the direction of the house for even the instant which might -have undone us, but was with me at once; and we were across the -open space and in the stable-yard before the first of the men in -the drive loomed up through the darkness. Half of the wooden -double-gate of the yard was open, and the other half served us as -a shield. They fired as they ran--at random, I think, for it was -too dark for them to have seen us clearly--and two bullets slapped -against the gate. A third struck the wall above our heads and -ricocheted off into the night. But before they could fire again we -were in the stables, the door slammed behind us, and I had dumped -the Nugget on the floor, and was shooting the heavy bolts into -their places. Footsteps clattered over the flagstones and stopped -outside. Some weighty body plunged against the door. Then there -was silence. The first round was over. - -The stables, as is the case in most English country-houses, had -been, in its palmy days, the glory of Sanstead House. In whatever -other respect the British architect of that period may have fallen -short, he never scamped his work on the stables. He built them -strong and solid, with walls fitted to repel the assaults of the -weather, and possibly those of men as well, for the Boones in -their day had been mighty owners of race-horses at a time when men -with money at stake did not stick at trifles, and it was prudent -to see to it that the spot where the favourite was housed had -something of the nature of a fortress. The walls were thick, the -door solid, the windows barred with iron. We could scarcely have -found a better haven of refuge. - -Under Mr Abney's rule, the stables had lost their original -character. They had been divided into three compartments, each -separated by a stout wall. One compartment became a gymnasium, -another the carpenter's shop, the third, in which we were, -remained a stable, though in these degenerate days no horse ever -set foot inside it, its only use being to provide a place for the -odd-job man to clean shoes. The mangers which had once held fodder -were given over now to brushes and pots of polish. In term-time, -bicycles were stored in the loose-box which had once echoed to the -tramping of Derby favourites. - -I groped about among the pots and brushes, and found a candle-end, -which I lit. I was running a risk, but it was necessary to inspect -our ground. I had never troubled really to examine this stable -before, and I wished to put myself in touch with its geography. - -I blew out the candle, well content with what I had seen. The only -two windows were small, high up, and excellently barred. Even if -the enemy fired through them there were half a dozen spots where -we should be perfectly safe. Best of all, in the event of the door -being carried by assault, we had a second line of defence in a -loft. A ladder against the back wall led to it, by way of a trap-door. -Circumstances had certainly been kind to us in driving us to this -apparently impregnable shelter. - -On concluding my inspection, I became aware that the Nugget was -still occupied with his grievances. I think the shots must have -stimulated his nerve centres, for he had abandoned the languid -drawl with which, in happier moments, he was wont to comment on -life's happenings, and was dealing with the situation with a -staccato briskness. - -'Of all the darned fool lay-outs I ever struck, this is the limit. -What do those idiots think they're doing, shooting us up that way? -It went within an inch of my head. It might have killed me. Gee, -and I'm all wet. I'm catching cold. It's all through your blamed -foolishness, bringing us out here. Why couldn't we stay in the -house?' - -'We could not have kept them out of the house for five minutes,' I -explained. 'We can hold this place.' - -'Who wants to hold it? I don't. What does it matter if they do get -me? _I_ don't care. I've a good mind to walk straight out through -that door and let them rope me in. It would serve Dad right. It -would teach him not to send me away from home to any darned school -again. What did he want to do it for? I was all right where I was. -I--' - -A loud hammering on the door cut off his eloquence. The -intermission was over, and the second round had begun. - -It was pitch dark in the stable now that I had blown out the -candle, and there is something about a combination of noise and -darkness which tries the nerves. If mine had remained steady, I -should have ignored the hammering. From the sound, it appeared to -be made by some wooden instrument--a mallet from the carpenter's -shop I discovered later--and the door could be relied on to hold -its own without my intervention. For a novice to violence, -however, to maintain a state of calm inaction is the most -difficult feat of all. I was irritated and worried by the noise, -and exaggerated its importance. It seemed to me that it must be -stopped at once. - -A moment before, I had bruised my shins against an empty packing-case, -which had found its way with other lumber into the stable. I groped -for this, swung it noiselessly into position beneath the window, -and, standing on it, looked out. I found the catch of the window, -and opened it. There was nothing to be seen, but the sound of the -hammering became more distinct; and pushing an arm through the bars, -I emptied my pistol at a venture. - -As a practical move, the action had flaws. The shots cannot have -gone anywhere near their vague target. But as a demonstration, it -was a wonderful success. The yard became suddenly full of dancing -bullets. They struck the flagstones, bounded off, chipped the -bricks of the far wall, ricocheted from those, buzzed in all -directions, and generally behaved in a manner calculated to unman -the stoutest hearted. - -The siege-party did not stop to argue. They stampeded as one man. -I could hear them clattering across the flagstones to every point -of the compass. In a few seconds silence prevailed, broken only by -the swish of the rain. Round two had been brief, hardly worthy to -be called a round at all, and, like round one, it had ended wholly -in our favour. - -I jumped down from my packing-case, swelling with pride. I had had -no previous experience of this sort of thing, yet here I was -handling the affair like a veteran. I considered that I had a -right to feel triumphant. I lit the candle again, and beamed -protectively upon the garrison. - -The Nugget was sitting on the floor, gaping feebly, and awed for -the moment into silence. Audrey, in the far corner, looked pale -but composed. Her behaviour was perfect. There was nothing for her -to do, and she was doing it with a quiet self-control which won -my admiration. Her manner seemed to me exactly suited to the -exigencies of the situation. With a super-competent dare-devil -like myself in charge of affairs, all she had to do was to wait -and not get in the way. - -'I didn't hit anybody,' I announced, 'but they ran like rabbits. -They are all over Hampshire.' - -I laughed indulgently. I could afford an attitude of tolerant -amusement towards the enemy. - -'Will they come back?' - -'Possibly. And in that case'--I felt in my left-hand coat-pocket--'I -had better be getting ready.' I felt in my right-hand coat-pocket. -'Ready,' I repeated blankly. A clammy coldness took possession of me. -My voice trailed off into nothingness. For in neither pocket was -there a single one of the shells with which I had fancied that I -was abundantly provided. In moments of excitement man is apt to make -mistakes. I had made mine when, starting out on the sortie, I had -left all my ammunition in the house. - - -II - -I should like to think that it was an unselfish desire to spare my -companions anxiety that made me keep my discovery to myself. But I -am afraid that my reticence was due far more to the fact that I -shrank from letting the Nugget discover my imbecile carelessness. -Even in times of peril one retains one's human weaknesses; and I -felt that I could not face his comments. If he had permitted a -certain note of querulousness to creep into his conversation -already, the imagination recoiled from the thought of the caustic -depths he would reach now should I reveal the truth. - -I tried to make things better with cheery optimism. - -'_They_ won't come back!' I said stoutly, and tried to believe it. - -The Nugget as usual struck the jarring note. - -'Well, then, let's beat it,' he said. 'I don't want to spend the -night in this darned icehouse. I tell you I'm catching cold. My -chest's weak. If you're so dead certain you've scared them away, -let's quit.' - -I was not prepared to go as far as this. - -'They may be somewhere near, hiding.' - -'Well, what if they are? I don't mind being kidnapped. Let's go.' - -'I think we ought to wait,' said Audrey. - -'Of course,' I said. 'It would be madness to go out now.' - -'Oh, pshaw!' said the Little Nugget; and from this point onwards -punctuated the proceedings with a hacking cough. - -I had never really believed that my demonstration had brought the -siege to a definite end. I anticipated that there would be some -delay before the renewal of hostilities, but I was too well -acquainted with Buck MacGinnis's tenacity to imagine that he would -abandon his task because a few random shots had spread momentary -panic in his ranks. He had all the night before him, and sooner or -later he would return. - -I had judged him correctly. Many minutes dragged wearily by -without a sign from the enemy, then, listening at the window, I -heard footsteps crossing the yard and voices talking in cautious -undertones. The fight was on once more. - -A bright light streamed through the window, flooding the opening -and spreading in a wide circle on the ceiling. It was not -difficult to understand what had happened. They had gone to the -automobile and come back with one of the head-lamps, an astute -move in which I seemed to see the finger of Sam. The danger-spot -thus rendered harmless, they renewed their attack on the door with -a reckless vigour. The mallet had been superseded by some heavier -instrument--of iron this time. I think it must have been the jack -from the automobile. It was a more formidable weapon altogether -than the mallet, and even our good oak door quivered under it. - -A splintering of wood decided me that the time had come to retreat -to our second line of entrenchments. How long the door would hold -it was impossible to say, but I doubted if it was more than a -matter of minutes. - -Relighting my candle, which I had extinguished from motives of -economy, I caught Audrey's eye and jerked my head towards the -ladder. - -'You go first,' I whispered. - -The Nugget watched her disappear through the trap-door, then -turned to me with an air of resolution. - -'If you think you're going to get _me_ up there, you've -another guess coming. I'm going to wait here till they get in, and -let them take me. I'm about tired of this foolishness.' - -It was no time for verbal argument. I collected him, a kicking -handful, bore him to the ladder, and pushed him through the -opening. He uttered one of his devastating squeals. The sound -seemed to encourage the workers outside like a trumpet-blast. The -blows on the door redoubled. - -I climbed the ladder and shut the trap-door behind me. - -The air of the loft was close and musty and smelt of mildewed hay. -It was not the sort of spot which one would have selected of one's -own free will to sit in for any length of time. There was a rustling -noise, and a rat scurried across the rickety floor, drawing a -startled gasp from Audrey and a disgusted 'Oh, piffle!' from the -Nugget. Whatever merits this final refuge might have as a stronghold, -it was beyond question a noisome place. - -The beating on the stable-door was working up to a crescendo. -Presently there came a crash that shook the floor on which we sat -and sent our neighbours, the rats, scuttling to and fro in a -perfect frenzy of perturbation. The light of the automobile lamp -poured in through the numerous holes and chinks which the passage -of time had made in the old boards. There was one large hole near -the centre which produced a sort of searchlight effect, and -allowed us for the first time to see what manner of place it was -in which we had entrenched ourselves. The loft was high and -spacious. The roof must have been some seven feet above our heads. -I could stand upright without difficulty. - -In the proceedings beneath us there had come a lull. The mystery -of our disappearance had not baffled the enemy for long, for almost -immediately the rays of the lamp had shifted and begun to play on -the trap-door. I heard somebody climb the ladder, and the trap-door -creaked gently as a hand tested it. I had taken up a position beside -it, ready, if the bolt gave way, to do what I could with the butt of -my pistol, my only weapon. But the bolt, though rusty, was strong, -and the man dropped to the ground again. Since then, except for -occasional snatches of whispered conversation, I had heard nothing. - -Suddenly Sam's voice spoke. - -'Mr Burns!' - -I saw no advantage in remaining silent. - -'Well?' - -'Haven't you had enough of this? You've given us a mighty good run -for our money, but you can see for yourself that you're through -now. I'd hate like anything for you to get hurt. Pass the kid -down, and we'll call it off.' - -He paused. - -'Well?' he said. 'Why don't you answer?' - -'I did.' - -'Did you? I didn't hear you.' - -'I smiled.' - -'You mean to stick it out? Don't be foolish, sonny. The boys here -are mad enough at you already. What's the use of getting yourself -in bad for nothing? We've got you in a pocket. I know all about that -gun of yours, young fellow. I had a suspicion what had happened, -and I've been into the house and found the shells you forgot to -take with you. So, if you were thinking of making a bluff in that -direction forget it!' - -The exposure had the effect I had anticipated. - -'Of all the chumps!' exclaimed the Nugget caustically. 'You ought -to be in a home. Well, I guess you'll agree to end this foolishness -now? Let's go down and get it over and have some peace. I'm getting -pneumonia.' - -'You're quite right, Mr Fisher,' I said. 'But don't forget I still -have the pistol, even if I haven't the shells. The first man who -tries to come up here will have a headache tomorrow.' - -'I shouldn't bank on it, sonny. Come along, kiddo! You're done. Be -good, and own it. We can't wait much longer.' - -'You'll have to try.' - -Buck's voice broke in on the discussion, quite unintelligible -except that it was obviously wrathful. - -'Oh well!' I heard Sam say resignedly, and then there was silence -again below. - -I resumed my watch over the trap-door, encouraged. This parleying, -I thought, was an admission of failure on the part of the -besiegers. I did not credit Sam with a real concern for my -welfare--thereby doing him an injustice. I can see now that he -spoke perfectly sincerely. The position, though I was unaware of -it, really was hopeless, for the reason that, like most positions, -it had a flank as well as a front. In estimating the possibilities -of attack, I had figured assaults as coming only from below. I had -omitted from my calculations the fact that the loft had a roof. - -It was a scraping on the tiles above my head that first brought -the new danger-point to my notice. There followed the sound of -heavy hammering, and with it came a sickening realization of the -truth of what Sam had said. We were beaten. - -I was too paralysed by the unexpectedness of the attack to form -any plan; and, indeed, I do not think that there was anything that -I could have done. I was unarmed and helpless. I stood there, -waiting for the inevitable. - -Affairs moved swiftly. Plaster rained down on to the wooden floor. -I was vaguely aware that the Nugget was speaking, but I did not -listen to him. - -A gap appeared in the roof and widened. I could hear the heavy -breathing of the man as he wrenched at the tiles. - -And then the climax arrived, with anticlimax following so swiftly -upon it that the two were almost simultaneous. I saw the worker on -the roof cautiously poise himself in the opening, hunched up like -some strange ape. The next moment he had sprung. - -As his feet touched the floor there came a rending, splintering -crash; the air was filled with a choking dust, and he was gone. -The old worn out boards had shaken under my tread. They had given -way in complete ruin beneath this sharp onslaught. The rays of the -lamp, which had filtered in like pencils of light through -crevices, now shone in a great lake in the centre of the floor. - -In the stable below all was confusion. Everybody was speaking at -once. The hero of the late disaster was groaning horribly, for -which he certainly had good reason: I did not know the extent of -his injuries, but a man does not do that sort of thing with -impunity. The next of the strange happenings of the night now -occurred. - -I had not been giving the Nugget a great deal of my attention for -some time, other and more urgent matters occupying me. - -His action at this juncture, consequently, came as a complete and -crushing surprise. - -I was edging my way cautiously towards the jagged hole in the -centre of the floor, in the hope of seeing something of what was -going on below, when from close beside me his voice screamed. -'It's me, Ogden Ford. I'm coming!' and, without further warning, -he ran to the hole, swung himself over, and dropped. - -Manna falling from the skies in the wilderness never received a -more whole-hearted welcome. Howls and cheers and ear-splitting -whoops filled the air. The babel of talk broke out again. Some -exuberant person found expression of his joy in emptying his -pistol at the ceiling, to my acute discomfort, the spot he had -selected as a target chancing to be within a foot of where I -stood. Then they moved off in a body, still cheering. The fight -was over. - -I do not know how long it was before I spoke. It may have been -some minutes. I was dazed with the swiftness with which the final -stages of the drama had been played out. If I had given him more -of my attention, I might have divined that Ogden had been waiting -his opportunity to make some such move; but, as it was, the -possibility had not even occurred to me, and I was stunned. - -In the distance I heard the automobile moving off down the drive. -The sound roused me. - -'Well, we may as well go,' I said dully. I lit the candle and held -it up. Audrey was standing against the wall, her face white and -set. - -I raised the trap-door and followed her down the ladder. - -The rain had ceased, and the stars were shining. After the -closeness of the loft, the clean wet air was delicious. For a -moment we stopped, held by the peace and stillness of the night. - -Then, quite suddenly, she broke down. - -It was the unexpectedness of it that first threw me off my balance. -In all the time I had known her, I had never before seen Audrey in -tears. Always, in the past, she had borne the blows of fate with a -stoical indifference which had alternately attracted and repelled -me, according as my mood led me to think it courage or insensibility. -In the old days, it had done much, this trait of hers, to rear a -barrier between us. It had made her seem aloof and unapproachable. -Subconsciously, I suppose, it had offended my egoism that she should -be able to support herself in times of trouble, and not feel it -necessary to lean on me. - -And now the barrier had fallen. The old independence, the almost -aggressive self-reliance, had vanished. A new Audrey had revealed -herself. - -She was sobbing helplessly, standing quite still, her arms hanging -and her eyes staring blankly before her. There was something in -her attitude so hopeless, so beaten, that the pathos of it seemed -to cut me like a knife. - -'Audrey!' - -The stars glittered in the little pools among the worn flagstones. -The night was very still. Only the steady drip of water from the -trees broke the silence. - -A great wave of tenderness seemed to sweep from my mind everything -in the world but her. Everything broke abruptly that had been -checking me, stifling me, holding me gagged and bound since the -night when our lives had come together again after those five long -years. I forgot Cynthia, my promise, everything. - -'Audrey!' - -She was in my arms, clinging to me, murmuring my name. The -darkness was about us like a cloud. - -And then she had slipped from me, and was gone. - - - - -Chapter 16 - - -In my recollections of that strange night there are wide gaps. -Trivial incidents come back to me with extraordinary vividness; -while there are hours of which I can remember nothing. What I did -or where I went I cannot recall. It seems to me, looking back, -that I walked without a pause till morning; yet, when day came, I -was still in the school grounds. Perhaps I walked, as a wounded -animal runs, in circles. I lost, I know, all count of time. I -became aware of the dawn as something that had happened suddenly, -as if light had succeeded darkness in a flash. It had been night; -I looked about me, and it was day--a steely, cheerless day, like a -December evening. And I found that I was very cold, very tired, -and very miserable. - -My mind was like the morning, grey and overcast. Conscience may be -expelled, but, like Nature, it will return. Mine, which I had cast -from me, had crept back with the daylight. I had had my hour of -freedom, and it was now for me to pay for it. - -I paid in full. My thoughts tore me. I could see no way out. -Through the night the fever and exhilaration of that mad moment -had sustained me, but now the morning had come, when dreams must -yield to facts, and I had to face the future. - -I sat on the stump of a tree, and buried my face in my hands. I -must have fallen asleep, for, when I raised my eyes again, the day -was brighter. Its cheerlessness had gone. The sky was blue, and -birds were singing. - -It must have been about half an hour later that the first -beginnings of a plan of action came to me. I could not trust -myself to reason out my position clearly and honestly in this -place where Audrey's spell was over everything. The part of me -that was struggling to be loyal to Cynthia was overwhelmed here. -London called to me. I could think there, face my position -quietly, and make up my mind. - -I turned to walk to the station. I could not guess even remotely -what time it was. The sun was shining through the trees, but in -the road outside the grounds there were no signs of workers -beginning the day. - -It was half past five when I reached the station. A sleepy porter -informed me that there would be a train to London, a slow train, -at six. - - * * * * * - -I remained in London two days, and on the third went down to Sanstead -to see Audrey for the last time. I had made my decision. - -I found her on the drive, close by the gate. She turned at my -footstep on the gravel; and, as I saw her, I knew that the fight -which I had thought over was only beginning. - -I was shocked at her appearance. Her face was very pale, and there -were tired lines about her eyes. - -I could not speak. Something choked me. Once again, as on that -night in the stable-yard, the world and all that was in it seemed -infinitely remote. - -It was she who broke the silence. - -'Well, Peter,' she said listlessly. - -We walked up the drive together. - -'Have you been to London?' - -'Yes. I came down this morning.' I paused. 'I went there to -think,' I said. - -She nodded. - -'I have been thinking, too.' - -I stopped, and began to hollow out a groove in the wet gravel with -my heel. Words were not coming readily. - -Suddenly she found speech. She spoke quickly, but her voice was -dull and lifeless. - -'Let us forget what has happened, Peter. We were neither of us -ourselves. I was tired and frightened and disappointed. You were -sorry for me just at the moment, and your nerves were strained, -like mine. It was all nothing. Let us forget it.' - -I shook my head. - -'No,' I said. 'It was not that. I can't let you even pretend you -think that was all. I love you. I always have loved you, though I -did not know how much till you had gone away. After a time, I -thought I had got over it. But when I met you again down here, I -knew that I had not, and never should. I came back to say good-bye, -but I shall always love you. It is my punishment for being the sort -of man I was five years ago.' - -'And mine for being the sort of woman I was five years ago.' She -laughed bitterly. 'Woman! I was just a little fool, a sulky child. -My punishment is going to be worse than yours, Peter. You will not -be always thinking that you had the happiness of two lives in your -hands, and threw it away because you had not the sense to hold -it.' - -'It is just that that I shall always be thinking. What happened -five years ago was my fault, Audrey, and nobody's but mine. I -don't think that, even when the loss of you hurt most, I ever -blamed you for going away. You had made me see myself as I was, -and I knew that you had done the right thing. I was selfish, -patronizing--I was insufferable. It was I who threw away our -happiness. You put it in a sentence that first day here, when you -said that I had been kind--sometimes--when I happened to think of -it. That summed me up. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. -I think we have not had the best of luck; but all the blame is -mine.' - -A flush came into her pale face. - -'I remember saying that. I said it because I was afraid of myself. -I was shaken by meeting you again. I thought you must be hating -me--you had every reason to hate me, and you spoke as if you -did--and I did not want to show you what you were to me. It wasn't -true, Peter. Five years ago I may have thought it, but not now. I -have grown to understand the realities by this time. I have been -through too much to have any false ideas left. I have had some -chance to compare men, and I realize that they are not all kind, -Peter, even sometimes, when they happen to think of it.' - -'Audrey,' I said--I had never found myself able to ask the -question before--'was--was--he--was Sheridan kind to you?' - -She did not speak for a moment, and I thought she was resenting -the question. - -'No!' she said abruptly. - -She shot out the monosyllable with a force that startled and -silenced me. There was a whole history of unhappiness in the word. - -'No,' she said again, after a pause, more gently this time. I -understood. She was speaking of a dead man. - -'I can't talk about him,' she went on hurriedly. 'I expect most of -it was my fault. I was unhappy because he was not you, and he saw -that I was unhappy and hated me for it. We had nothing in common. -It was just a piece of sheer madness, our marriage. He swept me -off my feet. I never had a great deal of sense, and I lost it all -then. I was far happier when he had left me.' - -'Left you?' - -'He deserted me almost directly we reached America.' She laughed. -'I told you I had grown to understand the realities. I began -then.' - -I was horrified. For the first time I realized vividly all that -she had gone through. When she had spoken to me before of her -struggles that evening over the study fire, I had supposed that -they had begun only after her husband's death, and that her life -with him had in some measure trained her for the fight. That she -should have been pitched into the arena, a mere child, with no -experience of life, appalled me. And, as she spoke, there came to -me the knowledge that now I could never do what I had come to do. -I could not give her up. She needed me. I tried not to think of -Cynthia. - -I took her hand. - -'Audrey,' I said, 'I came here to say good-bye. I can't. I want -you. Nothing matters except you. I won't give you up.' - -'It's too late,' she said, with a little catch in her voice. 'You -are engaged to Mrs Ford.' - -'I am engaged, but not to Mrs Ford. I am engaged to someone you -have never met--Cynthia Drassilis.' - -She pulled her hand away quickly, wide-eyed, and for some moments -was silent. - -'Do you love her?' she asked at last. - -'No.' - -'Does she love you?' - -Cynthia's letter rose before my eyes, that letter that could have -had no meaning, but one. - -'I am afraid she does,' I said. - -She looked at me steadily. Her face was very pale. - -'You must marry her, Peter.' - -I shook my head. - -'You must. She believes in you.' - -'I can't. I want you. And you need me. Can you deny that you need -me?' - -'No.' - -She said it quite simply, without emotion. I moved towards her, -thrilling, but she stepped back. - -'She needs you too,' she said. - -A dull despair was creeping over me. I was weighed down by a -premonition of failure. I had fought my conscience, my sense of -duty and honour, and crushed them. She was raising them up against -me once more. My self-control broke down. - -'Audrey,' I cried, 'for God's sake can't you see what you're -doing? We have been given a second chance. Our happiness is in -your hands again, and you are throwing it away. Why should we make -ourselves wretched for the whole of our lives? What does anything -else matter except that we love each other? Why should we let -anything stand in our way? I won't give you up.' - -She did not answer. Her eyes were fixed on the ground. Hope began -to revive in me, telling me that I had persuaded her. But when she -looked up it was with the same steady gaze, and my heart sank -again. - -'Peter,' she said, 'I want to tell you something. It will make you -understand, I think. I haven't been honest, Peter. I have not -fought fairly. All these weeks, ever since we met, I have been -trying to steal you. It's the only word. I have tried every little -miserable trick I could think of to steal you from the girl you -had promised to marry. And she wasn't here to fight for herself. I -didn't think of her. I was wrapped up in my own selfishness. And -then, after that night, when you had gone away, I thought it all -out. I had a sort of awakening. I saw the part I had been playing. -Even then I tried to persuade myself that I had done something -rather fine. I thought, you see, at that time that you were -infatuated with Mrs Ford--and I know Mrs Ford. If she is capable -of loving any man, she loves Mr Ford, though they are divorced. I -knew she would only make you unhappy. I told myself I was saving -you. Then you told me it was not Mrs Ford, but this girl. That -altered everything. Don't you see that I can't let you give her up -now? You would despise me. I shouldn't feel clean. I should feel -as if I had stabbed her in the back.' - -I forced a laugh. It rang hollow against the barrier that -separated us. In my heart I knew that this barrier was not to be -laughed away. - -'Can't you see, Peter? You must see.' - -'I certainly don't. I think you're overstrained, and that you have -let your imagination run away with you. I--' - -She interrupted me. - -'Do you remember that evening in the study?' she asked abruptly. -'We had been talking. I had been telling you how I had lived -during those five years.' - -'I remember.' - -'Every word I spoke was spoken with an object--calculated.... Yes, -even the pauses. I tried to make _them_ tell, too. I knew -you, you see, Peter. I knew you through and through, because I -loved you, and I knew the effect those tales would have on you. -Oh, they were all true. I was honest as far as that goes. But they -had the mean motive at the back of them. I was playing on your -feelings. I knew how kind you were, how you would pity me. I set -myself to create an image which would stay in your mind and kill -the memory of the other girl; the image of a poor, ill-treated -little creature who should work through to your heart by way of -your compassion. I knew you, Peter, I knew you. And then I did a -meaner thing still. I pretended to stumble in the dark. I meant -you to catch me and hold me, and you did. And ...' - -Her voice broke off. - -'I'm glad I have told you,' she said. 'It makes it a little -better. You understand now how I feel, don't you?' - -She held out her hand. - -'Good-bye.' - -'I am not going to give you up,' I said doggedly. - -'Good-bye,' she said again. Her voice was a whisper. - -I took her hand and began to draw her towards me. - -'It is not good-bye. There is no one else in the world but you, -and I am not going to give you up.' - -'Peter!' she struggled feebly. 'Oh, let me go.' - -I drew her nearer. - -'I won't let you go,' I said. - -But, as I spoke, there came the sound of automobile wheels on the -gravel. A large red car was coming up the drive. I dropped -Audrey's hand, and she stepped back and was lost in the shrubbery. -The car slowed down and stopped beside me. There were two women in -the tonneau. One, who was dark and handsome, I did not know. The -other was Mrs Drassilis. - - - - -Chapter 17 - - -I was given no leisure for wondering how Cynthia's mother came to -be in the grounds of Sanstead House, for her companion, almost -before the car had stopped, jumped out and clutched me by the arm, -at the same time uttering this cryptic speech: 'Whatever he offers -I'll double!' - -She fixed me, as she spoke, with a commanding eye. She was a woman, -I gathered in that instant, born to command. There seemed, at any -rate, no doubt in her mind that she could command me. If I had -been a black beetle she could not have looked at me with a more -scornful superiority. Her eyes were very large and of a rich, fiery -brown colour, and it was these that gave me my first suspicion of -her identity. As to the meaning of her words, however, I had no clue. - -'Bear that in mind,' she went on. 'I'll double it if it's a -million dollars.' - -'I'm afraid I don't understand,' I said, finding speech. - -She clicked her tongue impatiently. - -'There's no need to be so cautious and mysterious. This lady is a -friend of mine. She knows all about it. I asked her to come. I'm -Mrs Elmer Ford. I came here directly I got your letter. I think -you're the lowest sort of scoundrel that ever managed to keep out -of gaol, but that needn't make any difference just now. We're here -to talk business, Mr Fisher, so we may as well begin.' - -I was getting tired of being taken for Smooth Sam. - -'I am not Smooth Sam Fisher.' - -I turned to the automobile. 'Will you identify me, Mrs Drassilis?' - -She was regarding me with wide-open eyes. - -'What on earth are you doing down here? I have been trying -everywhere to find you, but nobody--' - -Mrs Ford interrupted her. She gave me the impression of being a -woman who wanted a good deal of the conversation, and who did not -care how she got it. In a conversational sense she thugged Mrs -Drassilis at this point, or rather she swept over her like some -tidal wave, blotting her out. - -'Oh,' she said fixing her brown eyes, less scornful now but still -imperious, on mine. 'I must apologize. I have made a mistake. I -took you for a low villain of the name of Sam Fisher. I hope you -will forgive me. I was to have met him at this exact spot just -about this time, by appointment, so, seeing you here, I mistook -you for him.' - -'If I might have a word with you alone?' I said. - -Mrs Ford had a short way with people. In matters concerning her -own wishes, she took their acquiescence for granted. - -'Drive on up to the house, Jarvis,' she said, and Mrs Drassilis -was whirled away round the curve of the drive before she knew what -had happened to her. - -'Well?' - -'My name is Burns,' I said. - -'Now I understand,' she said. 'I know who you are now.' She -paused, and I was expecting her to fawn upon me for my gallant -service in her cause, when she resumed in quite a different -strain. - -'I can't think what you can have been about, Mr Burns, not to have -been able to do what Cynthia asked you. Surely in all these weeks -and months.... And then, after all, to have let this Fisher -scoundrel steal him away from under your nose...!' - -She gave me a fleeting glance of unfathomable scorn. And when I -thought of all the sufferings I had gone through that term owing -to her repulsive son and, indirectly, for her sake, I felt that -the time had come to speak out. - -'May I describe the way in which I allowed your son to be stolen -away from under my nose?' I said. And in well-chosen words, I -sketched the outline of what had happened. I did not omit to lay -stress on the fact that the Nugget's departure with the enemy was -entirely voluntary. - -She heard me out in silence. - -'That was too bad of Oggie,' she said tolerantly, when I had -ceased dramatically on the climax of my tale. - -As a comment it seemed to me inadequate. - -'Oggie was always high-spirited,' she went on. 'No doubt you have -noticed that?' - -'A little.' - -'He could be led, but never driven. With the best intentions, no -doubt, you refused to allow him to leave the stables that night -and return to the house, and he resented the check and took the -matter into his own hands.' She broke off and looked at her watch. -'Have you a watch? What time is it? Only that? I thought it must -be later. I arrived too soon. I got a letter from this man Fisher, -naming this spot and this hour for a meeting, when we could -discuss terms. He said that he had written to Mr Ford, appointing -the same time.' She frowned. 'I have no doubt he will come,' she -said coldly. - -'Perhaps this is his car,' I said. - -A second automobile was whirring up the drive. There was a shout -as it came within sight of us, and the chauffeur put on the brake. -A man sprang from the tonneau. He jerked a word to the chauffeur, -and the car went on up the drive. - -He was a massively built man of middle age, with powerful shoulders, -and a face--when he had removed his motor-goggles very like any one -of half a dozen of those Roman emperors whose features have come -down to us on coins and statues, square-jawed, clean-shaven, and -aggressive. Like his late wife (who was now standing, drawn up to -her full height, staring haughtily at him) he had the air of one -born to command. I should imagine that the married life of these -two must have been something more of a battle even than most married -lives. The clashing of those wills must have smacked of a collision -between the immovable mass and the irresistible force. - -He met Mrs Ford's stare with one equally militant, then turned to -me. - -'I'll give you double what she has offered you,' he said. He -paused, and eyed me with loathing. 'You damned scoundrel,' he -added. - -Custom ought to have rendered me immune to irritation, but it had -not. I spoke my mind. - -'One of these days, Mr Ford,' I said, 'I am going to publish a -directory of the names and addresses of the people who have -mistaken me for Smooth Sam Fisher. I am not Sam Fisher. Can you -grasp that? My name is Peter Burns, and for the past term I have -been a master at this school. And I may say that, judging from -what I know of the little brute, any one who kidnapped your son as -long as two days ago will be so anxious by now to get rid of him -that he will probably want to pay you for taking him back.' - -My words almost had the effect of bringing this divorced couple -together again. They made common cause against me. It was probably -the first time in years that they had formed even a temporary -alliance. - -'How dare you talk like that!' said Mrs Ford. 'Oggie is a sweet -boy in every respect.' - -'You're perfectly right, Nesta,' said Mr Ford. 'He may want -intelligent handling, but he's a mighty fine boy. I shall make -inquiries, and if this man has been ill-treating Ogden, I shall -complain to Mr Abney. Where the devil is this man Fisher?' he -broke off abruptly. - -'On the spot,' said an affable voice. The bushes behind me parted, -and Smooth Sam stepped out on to the gravel. - -I had recognized him by his voice. I certainly should not have -done so by his appearance. He had taken the precaution of 'making -up' for this important meeting. A white wig of indescribable -respectability peeped out beneath his black hat. His eyes twinkled -from under two penthouses of white eyebrows. A white moustache -covered his mouth. He was venerable to a degree. - -He nodded to me, and bared his white head gallantly to Mrs Ford. - -'No worse for our little outing, Mr Burns, I am glad to see. Mrs -Ford, I must apologize for my apparent unpunctuality, but I was -not really behind time. I have been waiting in the bushes. I -thought it just possible that you might have brought unwelcome -members of the police force with you, and I have been scouting, as -it were, before making my advance. I see, however, that all is -well, and we can come at once to business. May I say, before we -begin, that I overheard your recent conversation, and that I -entirely disagree with Mr Burns. Master Ford is a charming boy. -Already I feel like an elder brother to him. I am loath to part -with him.' - -'How much?' snapped Mr Ford. 'You've got me. How much do you -want?' - -'I'll give you double what he offers,' cried Mrs Ford. - -Sam held up his hand, his old pontifical manner intensified by the -white wig. - -'May I speak? Thank you. This is a little embarrassing. When I -asked you both to meet me here, it was not for the purpose of -holding an auction. I had a straight-forward business proposition -to make to you. It will necessitate a certain amount of plain and -somewhat personal speaking. May I proceed? Thank you. I will be as -brief as possible.' - -His eloquence appeared to have had a soothing effect on the two -Fords. They remained silent. - -'You must understand,' said Sam, 'that I am speaking as an expert. -I have been in the kidnapping business many years, and I know what -I am talking about. And I tell you that the moment you two got -your divorce, you said good-bye to all peace and quiet. Bless -you'--Sam's manner became fatherly--'I've seen it a hundred -times. Couple get divorced, and, if there's a child, what happens? -They start in playing battledore-and-shuttlecock with him. Wife -sneaks him from husband. Husband sneaks him back from wife. After -a while along comes a gentleman in my line of business, a -professional at the game, and he puts one across on both the -amateurs. He takes advantage of the confusion, slips in, and gets -away with the kid. That's what has happened here, and I'm going to -show you the way to stop it another time. Now I'll make you a -proposition. What you want to do'--I have never heard anything so -soothing, so suggestive of the old family friend healing an -unfortunate breach, as Sam's voice at this juncture--'what you -want to do is to get together again right quick. Never mind the -past. Let bygones be bygones. Kiss and be friends.' - -A snort from Mr Ford checked him for a moment, but he resumed. - -'I guess there were faults on both sides. Get together and talk it -over. And when you've agreed to call the fight off and start fair -again, that's where I come in. Mr Burns here will tell you, if you -ask him, that I'm anxious to quit this business and marry and -settle down. Well, see here. What you want to do is to give me a -salary--we can talk figures later on--to stay by you and watch -over the kid. Don't snort--I'm talking plain sense. You'd a sight -better have me with you than against you. Set a thief to catch a -thief. What I don't know about the fine points of the game isn't -worth knowing. I'll guarantee, if you put me in charge, to see -that nobody comes within a hundred miles of the kid unless he has -an order-to-view. You'll find I earn every penny of that salary ... -Mr Burns and I will now take a turn up the drive while you think -it over.' - -He linked his arm in mine and drew me away. As we turned the -corner of the drive I caught a glimpse over my shoulder of the -Little Nugget's parents. They were standing where we had left -them, as if Sam's eloquence had rooted them to the spot. - -'Well, well, well, young man,' said Sam, eyeing me affectionately, -'it's pleasant to meet you again, under happier conditions than -last time. You certainly have all the luck, sonny, or you would -have been badly hurt that night. I was getting scared how the -thing would end. Buck's a plain roughneck, and his gang are as bad -as he is, and they had got mighty sore at you, mighty sore. If -they had grabbed you, there's no knowing what might not have -happened. However, all's well that ends well, and this little game -has surely had the happy ending. I shall get that job, sonny. Old -man Ford isn't a fool, and it won't take him long, when he gets to -thinking it over, to see that I'm right. He'll hire me.' - -'Aren't you rather reckoning without your partner?' I said. 'Where -does Buck MacGinnis come in on the deal?' - -Sam patted my shoulder paternally. - -'He doesn't, sonny, he doesn't. It was a shame to do it--it was -like taking candy from a kid--but business is business, and I was -reluctantly compelled to double-cross poor old Buck. I sneaked the -Nugget away from him next day. It's not worth talking about; it -was too easy. Buck's all right in a rough-and-tumble, but when it -comes to brains he gets left, and so he'll go on through life, -poor fellow. I hate to think of it.' - -He sighed. Buck's misfortunes seemed to move him deeply. - -'I shouldn't be surprised if he gave up the profession after this. -He has had enough to discourage him. I told you about what -happened to him that night, didn't I? No? I thought I did. Why, -Buck was the guy who did the Steve Brodie through the roof; and, -when we picked him up, we found he'd broken his leg again! Isn't -that enough to jar a man? I guess he'll retire from the business -after that. He isn't intended for it.' - -We were approaching the two automobiles now, and, looking back, I -saw Mr and Mrs Ford walking up the drive. Sam followed my gaze, -and I heard him chuckle. - -'It's all right,' he said. 'They've fixed it up. Something in the -way they're walking tells me they've fixed it up.' - -Mrs Drassilis was still sitting in the red automobile, looking -piqued but resigned. Mrs Ford addressed her. - -'I shall have to leave you, Mrs Drassilis,' she said. 'Tell Jarvis -to drive you wherever you want to go. I am going with my husband -to see my boy Oggie.' - -She stretched out a hand towards the millionaire. He caught it in -his, and they stood there, smiling foolishly at each other, while -Sam, almost purring, brooded over them like a stout fairy queen. -The two chauffeurs looked on woodenly. - -Mr Ford released his wife's hand and turned to Sam. - -'Fisher.' - -'Sir?' - -'I've been considering your proposition. There's a string tied to -it.' - -'Oh no, sir, I assure you!' - -'There is. What guarantee have I that you won't double-cross me?' - -Sam smiled, relieved. - -'You forget that I told you I was about to be married, sir. My -wife won't let me!' - -Mr Ford waved his hand towards the automobile. - -'Jump in,' he said briefly, 'and tell him where to drive to. -You're engaged!' - - - - -Chapter 18 - - -'No manners!' said Mrs Drassilis. 'None whatever. I always said -so.' - -She spoke bitterly. She was following the automobile with an -offended eye as it moved down the drive. - -The car rounded the corner. Sam turned and waved a farewell. Mr -and Mrs Ford, seated close together in the tonneau, did not even -look round. - -Mrs Drassilis sniffed disgustedly. - -'She's a friend of Cynthia's. Cynthia asked me to come down here -with her to see you. I came, to oblige her. And now, without a -word of apology, she leaves me stranded. She has no manners -whatever.' - -I offered no defence of the absent one. The verdict more or less -squared with my own opinion. - -'Is Cynthia back in England?' I asked, to change the subject. - -'The yacht got back yesterday. Peter, I have something of the -utmost importance to speak to you about.' She glanced at Jarvis -the chauffeur, leaning back in his seat with the air, peculiar to -chauffeurs in repose, of being stuffed. 'Walk down the drive with -me.' - -I helped her out of the car, and we set off in silence. There was -a suppressed excitement in my companion's manner which interested -me, and something furtive which brought back all my old dislike of -her. I could not imagine what she could have to say to me that had -brought her all these miles. - -'How _do_ you come to be down here?' she said. 'When Cynthia -told me you were here, I could hardly believe her. Why are you a -master at this school? I cannot understand it!' - -'What did you want to see me about?' I asked. - -She hesitated. It was always an effort for her to be direct. Now, -apparently, the effort was too great. The next moment she had -rambled off on some tortuous bypath of her own, which, though it -presumably led in the end to her destination, was evidently a long -way round. - -'I have known you for so many years now, Peter, and I don't know of -anybody whose character I admire more. You are so generous--quixotic -in fact. You are one of the few really unselfish men I have ever -met. You are always thinking of other people. Whatever it cost you, -I know you would not hesitate to give up anything if you felt that -it was for someone else's happiness. I do admire you so for it. -One meets so few young men nowadays who consider anybody except -themselves.' - -She paused, either for breath or for fresh ideas, and I took -advantage of the lull in the rain of bouquets to repeat my -question. - -'What _did_ you want to see me about?' I asked patiently. - -'About Cynthia. She asked me to see you.' - -'Oh!' - -'You got a letter from her.' - -'Yes.' - -'Last night, when she came home, she told me about it, and showed -me your answer. It was a beautiful letter, Peter. I'm sure I cried -when I read it. And Cynthia did, I feel certain. Of course, to a -girl of her character that letter was final. She is so loyal, dear -child.' - -'I don't understand.' - -As Sam would have said, she seemed to be speaking; words appeared -to be fluttering from her; but her meaning was beyond me. - -'Once she has given her promise, I am sure nothing would induce -her to break it, whatever her private feelings. She is so loyal. -She has such character.' - -'Would you mind being a little clearer?' I said sharply. 'I really -don't understand what it is you are trying to tell me. What do you -mean about loyalty and character? I don't understand.' - -She was not to be hustled from her bypath. She had chosen her -route, and she meant to travel by it, ignoring short-cuts. - -'To Cynthia, as I say, it was final. She simply could not see that -the matter was not irrevocably settled. I thought it so fine of -her. But I am her mother, and it was my duty not to give in and -accept the situation as inevitable while there was anything I -could do for her happiness. I knew your chivalrous, unselfish -nature, Peter. I could speak to you as Cynthia could not. I could -appeal to your generosity in a way impossible, of course, for her. -I could put the whole facts of the case clearly before you.' - -I snatched at the words. - -'I wish you would. What are they?' - -She rambled off again. - -'She has such a rigid sense of duty. There is no arguing with her. -I told her that, if you knew, you would not dream of standing in -her way. You are so generous, such a true friend, that your only -thought would be for her. If her happiness depended on your -releasing her from her promise, you would not think of yourself. -So in the end I took matters into my own hands and came to see -you. I am truly sorry for you, dear Peter, but to me Cynthia's -happiness, of course, must come before everything. You do -understand, don't you?' - -Gradually, as she was speaking, I had begun to grasp hesitatingly -at her meaning, hesitatingly, because the first hint of it had -stirred me to such a whirl of hope that I feared to risk the shock -of finding that, after all, I had been mistaken. If I were -right--and surely she could mean nothing else--I was free, free -with honour. But I could not live on hints. I must hear this thing -in words. - -'Has--has Cynthia--' I stopped, to steady my voice. 'Has Cynthia -found--' I stopped again. I was finding it absurdly difficult to -frame my sentence. 'Is there someone else?' I concluded with a -rush. - -Mrs Drassilis patted my arm sympathetically. - -'Be brave, Peter!' - -'There is?' - -'Yes.' - -The trees, the drive, the turf, the sky, the birds, the house, the -automobile, and Jarvis, the stuffed chauffeur, leaped together for -an instant in one whirling, dancing mass of which I was the -centre. And then, out of the chaos, as it separated itself once -more into its component parts, I heard my voice saying, 'Tell me.' - -The world was itself again, and I was listening quietly and with a -mild interest which, try as I would, I could not make any -stronger. I had exhausted my emotion on the essential fact: the -details were an anticlimax. - -'I liked him directly I saw him,' said Mrs Drassilis. 'And, of -course, as he was such a friend of yours, we naturally--' - -'A friend of mine?' - -'I am speaking of Lord Mountry.' - -'Mountry? What about him?' Light flooded in on my numbed brain. -'You don't mean--Is it Lord Mountry?' - -My manner must have misled her. She stammered in her eagerness to -dispel what she took to be my misapprehension. - -'Don't think that he acted in anything but the most honourable -manner. Nothing could be farther from the truth. He knew nothing -of Cynthia's engagement to you. She told him when he asked her to -marry him, and he--as a matter of fact, it was he who insisted on -dear Cynthia writing that letter to you.' - -She stopped, apparently staggered by this excursion into honesty. - -'Well?' - -'In fact, he dictated it.' - -'Oh!' - -'Unfortunately, it was quite the wrong sort of letter. It was the -very opposite of clear. It can have given you no inkling of the -real state of affairs.' - -'It certainly did not.' - -'He would not allow her to alter it in any way. He is very -obstinate at times, like so many shy men. And when your answer -came, you see, things were worse than before.' - -'I suppose so.' - -'I could see last night how unhappy they both were. And when -Cynthia suggested it, I agreed at once to come to you and tell you -everything.' - -She looked at me anxiously. From her point of view, this was the -climax, the supreme moment. She hesitated. I seemed to see her -marshalling her forces, the telling sentences, the persuasive -adjectives; rallying them together for the grand assault. - -But through the trees I caught a glimpse of Audrey, walking on the -lawn; and the assault was never made. - -'I will write to Cynthia tonight,' I said, 'wishing her -happiness.' - -'Oh, Peter!' said Mrs Drassilis. - -'Don't mention it,' said I. - -Doubts appeared to mar her perfect contentment. - -'You are sure you can convince her?' - -'Convince her?' - -'And--er--Lord Mountry. He is so determined not to do -anything--er--what he would call unsportsmanlike.' - -'Perhaps I had better tell her I am going to marry some one else,' -I suggested. - -'I think that would be an excellent idea,' she said, brightening -visibly. 'How clever of you to have thought of it.' - -She permitted herself a truism. - -'After all, dear Peter, there are plenty of nice girls in the -world. You have only to look for them.' - -'You're perfectly right,' I said. 'I'll start at once.' - -A gleam of white caught my eye through the trees by the lawn. I -moved towards it. - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Nugget, by P. G. Wodehouse - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE NUGGET *** - -***** This file should be named 6683.txt or 6683.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/8/6683/ - -Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Tom Allen, Charles Franks -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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