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diff --git a/old/69544-0.txt b/old/69544-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 66795fb..0000000 --- a/old/69544-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5233 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The exploits of Captain O'Hagan, by -Sax Rohmer - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The exploits of Captain O'Hagan - -Author: Sax Rohmer - -Release Date: December 15, 2022 [eBook #69544] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines, Cindy Beyer & the online Distributed - Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EXPLOITS OF CAPTAIN -O'HAGAN *** - - - - - - - - [Cover Illustration] - - - - - =THE= - =EXPLOITS OF= - =CAPTAIN= - =O’HAGAN= - - - =BY= - =SAX ROHMER= - =Author of “The Yellow Claw,”= - =“Dr. Fu Manchu,” etc.= - - - =Bookfinger= - =New York City= - =1968= - - - - - Portions of this book appeared serially in McClure’s - Magazine during 1913-14 - - - First Printed, Jarrolds, London, - December, 1916 - - - First American Edition - - - - - Contents - - Exploit the First - He Patronises Pamela - - Chapter Page - I. The Hat of Mr. Parkins 11 - II. “The Art of Gentle Thought” 17 - III. Pamela Returns 25 - IV. A Musical Interlude 31 - - Exploit the Second - He Clears the Course for True Love - - I. The Gloomy Cavalier 51 - II. The Other 60 - III. Natural Selection 66 - IV. At Fig Tree Court 72 - - Exploit the Third - He Meets the Leopard Lady - - I. The Boom-Maker 87 - II. La Belle Lotus 95 - III. The Boom 102 - IV. Echoes of the Boom 110 - V. Belcher the Thorough 119 - - Exploit the Fourth - He Buries an Old Love - - I. The Lonely Lady 125 - II. At the Stage Door 131 - III. In the Dressing-Room 140 - IV. The Snows of the Yukon 149 - - Exploit the Fifth - He Deals with Don Juan - - I. Haverley of the Greys 159 - II. According ot Myuku 168 - III. Introducing Donohue 171 - IV. Donohue’s Orders 178 - V. Revelations 184 - VI. Donohue Again 189 - - Exploit the Sixth - He Honors the Grand Duke - - I. We Meet the Duke 195 - II. We Improve the Acquaintance 201 - III. The Maid and the Ring 215 - IV. The Conspirators 219 - - - - - A NECESSARY FOREWORD. - -In presenting for perusal a selection of private notes dealing with the -sometimes eccentric doings of my gallant friend and compatriot, Captain -the Hon. Bernard O’Hagan, V.C., D.S.O., I desire in the first place to -assure my reader that O’Hagan is in no degree related to anyone else of -the name. - -Recent circumstances have led him to resume military duties; but the -splendid response of Democracy to the trumpet-call “Pro Patrià” has in -no way unsettled his singular opinions. In the face of evidence to the -contrary which many regard as conclusive, he maintains that the ideal -form of government is government by an absolute monarchy. - -It forms no part of my plan either to support or to seek to disprove the -theories of Captain O’Hagan. In justice to my distinguished friend, I -must add that support and opposition alike are matters of indifference -to him. He stands alone—aloof—aloft. Neither as apologist nor as -eulogist do I pen these lines, but merely as the chronicler of -remarkable events in the career of a remarkable man. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE FIRST. - - HE PATRONISES PAMELA. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE FIRST. - HE PATRONISES PAMELA. - - - I. - THE HAT OF MR. PARKINS. - -A very wilderness is Bernard O’Hagan, which no man could hope thoroughly -to explore; a most picturesque figure in the satin-lined cloak which he -loves to wear in defiance of fashion and indeed of civilised custom, -singularly resembling the Merry Monarch whom a lady of his race once -entertained right regally at the ancestral home of the O’Hagans. The -unexpectedness of the man is one of the most marked features of his -character—the one that makes his society at once delightful and -alarming. - -“My boy,” he will burst out, as we sit in a crowded café, “that -gentleman yonder is unduly interested in my appearance.” And, stepping -over to the offensive one: “Sir, you are staring at me. I suspect you of -being a bum-bailiff!” - -“What!” says the other, in all probability—whilst, my friend and I the -observed of many observers, I tremble for the outcome of the -affair—“how dare you! Damn it! how dare you!” - -“Because,” replies O’Hagan, with a sort of calm ferocity, “I desire to -pull your nose, and only await a fitting opportunity! You are a puppy, -sir! There is my card!” - -The man leaps in anger to his feet. Others arise, too, and waiters -approach. - -“You will regret this outrage!” says the man, pale or inflamed. “You -will hear from my solicitor!” - -Then O’Hagan throws back his picturesque head and laughs. - -“The solicitor again!” he cries, snapping his fingers. “Always the -solicitor—or the police! Is there no man alive to-day who can fight his -own battles?” - -He quietly returns to his table. The other speaks to the manager, and, -if he be a good customer, the manager comes across to O’Hagan. O’Hagan -rises slowly, fixing his eyes upon him. And, somehow, O’Hagan is never -ejected. A devil of a fellow. - -To the charge that he is a polished kind of bully he will reply calmly, -arguing that he is merely of a sensitive and aristocratic temperament -and suffers affront where one more callous would be conscious of none. -He will submit to rudeness from no man, be he premier or potman; yet he -is never vulgarly embroiled. - -O’Hagan rarely wears a hat during the day. There is a simple -explanation. At one time in his chequered career, the only presentable -hat he possessed was a crush-hat. It was then that he cultivated the -hatless fashion. This habit of going hatless directly led to his meeting -with Pamela. - -Captain O’Hagan was walking along a crowded, shop-lined thoroughfare, -with that swinging stride which he will tell you runs in the family, and -which enabled his ancestor Patrick to secure enrolment in the ranks of -the Musketeers of Louis XIII. Before the door of a newsagent’s -establishment—quite an unpretentious little shop—two men stood. One of -them, elderly, waved a tweed cap—to a girl more than ordinarily pretty -who was making her way up the steps to the roof of a moving motor bus. -The girl carried a neat brown leather case, and, having gained a seat, -turned and waved her handkerchief. The younger man smiled sourly, but -did not join the elder in his waving. - -O’Hagan, delighted with the girl’s animation and beauty, halted by the -two, smiling at the retreating figure. Quite mechanically he raised the -hard felt hat from the head of the younger and less enthusiastic man, -and waved it with a vigour even more marked than that of the elder -waver. - -He was recalled to the scene from which the girl now had disappeared -amid the motley traffic, by a violent punch in the ribs. - -“Blighter!” said a coarse voice. “My ’at!” - -Another than Captain O’Hagan had turned quickly, with arm raised to ward -off another possible blow. But with O’Hagan the cult of the unusual is a -creed to which he sacrifices daily. Some difficulty he experienced in -suppressing a gasp, but he turned unhastily, calmly, and looked into the -bright little eyes of the hat’s owner. These were set upon him wickedly, -and a truculent, blue-shaded jaw was thrust forward in menace. - -“You’ve properly asked for it,” continued the man, tensely, “and you’re -goin’ to get it!” - -“Jem!” protested the older man, fearfully. “Not here——” - -Straight from the shoulder a piston stroke was launched at O’Hagan. It -was a blow with brawn to drive it, with science to direct it. It was -aimed—and well—in accordance with ring traditions of the “knock-out.” -But one who takes unwarrantable liberties with unknowns’ hats must be -prepared for reprisals. - -O’Hagan is fond of showing his friends the tricks learned of Shashu -Myuku of Nagasaki; he is equally prompt to demonstrate them to others. -Without employing his right hand, which was engaged in holding the felt -hat, he struck down the impending blow (any but a pupil of Myuku must -have endeavoured to strike it _up_), thrust his left foot rapidly -against his opponent’s advanced right shin, and, by a simple process of -natural law the pugilist pitched forward on to the pavement, propelled -by all the force of his own attacking impetus. - -Much shaken, and with a rivulet of blood trickling down his nose from a -damaged forehead, he got upon his feet again. Captain O’Hagan -deliberately hurled the bowler far out into the stream of traffic, and -fixed his large eyes upon its white-faced owner. - -“One word,” he said, in that tone of suppressed ferocity wholly -inimitable, “and I will throw you after it! You ape!” - -The dazed and much-insulted man glanced from a shapeless dark mass -which, prior to the passage of a brewer’s traction-engine, had been a -felt hat, to the face of O’Hagan; and began with his handkerchief to -wipe blood from his wounds. O’Hagan cast his eyes upward to the legend: -“J. Crichton, Newsagent,” and took the elder man by the arm. - -“A word with you, Mr. Crichton!” he said, sweeping that astonished old -tradesman into the shop, and ignoring the knot of interested spectators -gathered at the door. - - ————— - - - II. - “THE ART OF GENTLE THOUGHT.” - -A chair stood by the journal-strewn counter. - -“Sit down,” said O’Hagan kindly, “and answer a few questions! Who is -that person whose hat I honoured?” - -The newsagent, who momentarily was expecting to awaken from this bad -dream, shook his head ominously. - -“It’s Jem Parkins, sir,” he replied, with that respect bordering upon -awe which O’Hagan inspires in the plebeian soul. “He’s got the _Blue -Dragon_ now, but he’s ex-middleweight champion. There’ll be the devil to -pay when he’s pulled hisself together, sir!” - -“Reserve your speculations, Mr. Crichton,” said O’Hagan, “and confine -yourself to facts. The young lady on the bus—your daughter?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“She takes after her mother.” - -Mr. Crichton stared. - -“Did you know Polly—Mrs. Crichton, sir?” - -“No. I was referring to your daughter’s good looks. She dresses neatly.” - -Mr. Crichton had something of the British tradesman’s independent -spirit, and even the awe inspired by O’Hagan’s tremendous presence could -not wholly smother his paternal resentment. - -“I’d have you know that Pamela’s a lady, sir! And I’d have——” - -“Pamela is quite an unusual name for a girl of the lower classes. In -what way is Parkins interested?” - -The mild eye of Mr. J. Crichton smouldered into faint flame. - -“The lower classes! The——” - -“I asked you a question.” - -Mr. Crichton hesitated, glanced around his shop—his _own_ shop—noted -that his pugilistic friend was entering the door with an air of -business-like truculence, and took his elusive courage in both hands. - -“I decline to be cross-examined—by you—or—by——” - -Mr. Parkins closed the shop-door, bolted it, and pulled down the blue -blind. He began deliberately to remove his coat. - -“Half a mo, Mr. C.,” he interrupted in a quivering voice. “Sorry to put -you out, but it’s got to be done. I’ll smash ’im; then you can call for -the police and give ’im in charge!” - -O’Hagan raised the monocle swung upon the broad black ribbon, and -holding it at some distance from his right eye, surveyed the speaker. - -“I thought I forbade you to address me?” he remarked icily. - -Parkins, removing a collar and shirt-front combined, began to whistle. - -“I’ll show you comin’ buttin’ in and runnin’ after respectable girls!” -he announced hoarsely. “_Blighter!_” - -O’Hagan dropped the monocle and laid his cane upon the counter. At the -moment that Parkins stood upright and squared his chest, the Captain -snatched up Mr. Crichton’s day-book—a heavy, leather-bound volume—and -hurled it full at the pugilist’s head. One of the precepts of the Higher -Jiu-jitsu, or “Art of Gentle Thought,” he will tell you, is to avail -yourself of any missile within reach. His aim, then, is deadly. The -day-book struck Parkins edgewise across the face, felling him like a -stricken bullock—felling him utterly, brutally. - -He crashed into the corner by the door—and lay still. (“A dreadful blow -was struck at every gentleman when the sword was taken from him,” -O’Hagan will say. “One cannot soil one’s gloves with the blood of -churls.”) - -“If you compel me to deal with you,” said the Captain, as Parkins -returned to groaning consciousness of his injuries, “I shall cut your -ears off!” - -Do not judge my friend harshly. He was born three centuries too late, -that is all. The claim of Democracy to an equality with Aristocracy is -as unintelligible to him as it must have been to Denis O’Hagan, who -upheld the Stuart cause whilst he had breath, and died at last like a -gentleman at Worcester, having demonstrated his distaste for plebeian -company by personally dispatching seven Roundheads. Or perhaps the -autocratic soul of Patrick O’Hagan lives again within Bernard. This -member of the family, sometime of the _Mousquetaires du roi_, narrowly -escaped the Bastille for decapitating a Paris grocer who insulted a lady -and attaching the erring tradesman’s head to his own shop-sign. - -Parkins dizzily strove to get upon his feet. Mr. Crichton, trembling, -was seeking to reach the telephone. - -“Sit down, Mr. Crichton,” directed O’Hagan, turning the monocle upon -him. - -“This is my shop—and that’s one o’ my friends——” - -“Sit down, Mr. Crichton.” - -Mr. Crichton sat down. - -“You”—to the tottering pugilist—“put on your filthy rags, and get -out.” - -Parkins steadied himself against the door. - -“What d’you mean, get out? I’ve got more right ’ere than you! Just wait, -you cowardly skunk! I’ll ’ave you yet! I’ll quod you for this!” - -“You have one minute to get out. If I hear from you again, I shall give -you in charge for assault and battery!” - -O’Hagan, lolling against the counter, swung the monocle carelessly. The -amplitude of his nonchalance prevailed. Parkins, recalling that he had -struck the first blow, stuffed his “dicky” into his coat, resumed that -garment, and began to unbolt the door. - -With never a backward glance, the discredited Mr. Parkins made his exit. -One of a curious group, without, entered on the pretence of buying a -halfpenny paper. He was served by the trembling newsagent, but save for -the presence of a hatless, distinguished gentleman, saw nothing to -satisfy his curiosity in Mr. Crichton’s shop. - -“Now, Mr. Crichton,” said O’Hagan, the customer departed, “in reference -to Pamela: has the fellow, Parkins, pretensions?” - -Mr. Crichton, _pro tempore_, was past protest. - -“He’s an old pal o’ mine,” he explained, unsteadily, “and well -off—and——” - -“Pamela does not approve him?” - -“Well, she’s got such superior ideas. But Parkins——” - -“It is out of the question, Crichton. Dismiss the idea. Mrs. Crichton -was a woman of higher social standing than yourself?” - -The newsagent felt suffocation to be an imminent danger. - -“She was the daughter of a lit’r’y gentleman——” - -“Singular that she should have married you! Her father was badly in -debt, possibly?” - -“Look here——!” - -“I say, possibly the late Mrs. Crichton’s father was financially -indebted to you?” - -Crichton, cowed: - -“I pretty well kept him, for years!” - -“Ah! poor girl! A tragedy of poverty! But you have not neglected -Pamela’s education?” - -“She’s had the best that money could give her!” - -O’Hagan seized the hand of the bewildered Mr. Crichton and wrung it -warmly. - -“There are redeeming features in your character, Crichton!” he said. -“For your endeavours on the girl’s behalf I can forgive you much. Rely -upon my friendship! And Pamela has literary inclinations?” - -“No, sir,” answered the newsagent, whose world was being turned -topsy-turvy, who alternately believed that he was in the company of a -madman or that he himself was mad. “She’s a musician; I’ve had her -properly taught; she composes!” - -Above all the chaos reigning in his mind, paternal pride asserted its -sovereignty and his voice proclaimed it. - -“Ah! composes? She has just gone to see a publisher? She had music in -the leather case?” - -“Her new piece, sir. She reckons it’s goin’ to make her!” - -“What has she published?” - -Mr. Crichton, crestfallen: - -“Nothing, sir! You see, she’s unknown. They won’t give her a chance.” - -“She will return to lunch?” - -The newsagent stared. - -“Pamela’ll be home to dinner!” he said. - -“The midday meal? Exactly. I will lunch with you, Crichton. My name is -Captain O’Hagan.” - -His mode of patronage was superb, incomparable. - - ————— - - - III. - PAMELA RETURNS. - -Pamela arrived late, a dainty figure in her neat serge costume; but the -very curl that floated across her brow, the limp little hand that held -the music-case, spoke of dejection. Her charming face was not habitually -pale, O’Hagan felt assured, nor were such glorious eyes meant to be -dimmed with threatening tears. - -“Hullo, Pam!” began her father heartily—and hesitated. “Why—won’t they -take it?” - -A forlorn little shake of the head. - -“That horrible Ritzmann offered to publish it—if I would let him have -it for nothing!” - -“For nothing! Didn’t he offer to pay anything?” - -“Not after I had declined to go to lunch with him!” - -Pamela laughed; not mirthfully. - -“Cheer up, Pam,” said Mr. Crichton, in a voice of abysmal gloom. -“A—er—a friend——” - -“A friend, yes, Crichton,” interrupted O’Hagan. “Don’t be nervous.” - -“A friend of mine—_Captain_ O’Hagan—has called to see us!” - -Pamela blushed delightfully; O’Hagan bowed inimitably. - -“Didn’t Mr.—Parkins—stay?” - -Crichton coughed. - -“He couldn’t stop, after all!” He replied. - -Pamela removed her hat. “Good job, too,” she muttered under her breath. - -And then began that singular repast, throughout which O’Hagan talked as -only O’Hagan can talk; talked himself into the hearts of the Crichtons. -The old man’s natural resentment—which hitherto had not become wholly -dispersed—melted before the geniality of his distinguished guest; Mr. -Parkins was forgotten. Pamela forgot her troubles and became all smiles. -Crichton burned with pride to note that Captain O’Hagan treated her as -an intellectual equal. Of the Captain’s honourable and friendly -intentions no man could doubt after thirty minutes in his company; and -so that was a happy hour spent at the newsagent’s humble table. - -The meal despatched: - -“Now for the music!” said O’Hagan, and crossing the little room, he -opened the piano. - -Pamela stared. - -“May I try over your new piece, Miss Crichton?” - -“Oh!” cried the girl. “You play?” - -“A little. I should like, as a pleasure, to hear your own rendering; as -a matter of business I should prefer to play the piece myself.” - -“A matter of business——” - -“You hope to place these compositions?” - -“Oh!” said Pamela blankly; “yes,” and took the MS. from her music-case, -adjusting it upon the piano-rack. - -Few people have heard O’Hagan play the piano. He never plays unless -requested and the many being ignorant of his accomplishment, he rarely -is requested. But from the moment that his long, white fingers caressed -the keys in the opening bar until that when they leapt back from the -final chord, his audience of two listened spellbound. The piece was a -delicate, feminine morsel; individual, charming; upon an elusive melody, -which haunted the ear, which spelt Popularity. For a moment there was -silence. O’Hagan swung around and faced Pamela. - -“Miss Crichton,” he said, “you will make a large sum of money with your -music. One day you will be famous.” - -Pamela blushed; her lips trembled. She had never heard her dainty -composition played before by hands other than her own. It was something -of a revelation to its composer—this rippling, fascinating cascade of -harmony which had flown out under the subtle touch of the visitor. Tears -were not far from her eyes again. - -“Give me more of your pieces—all you can find,” directed O’Hagan. - -Glad enough of an excuse to hide her emotion, the girl ran to a little -escretoire and took out six or seven neatly-written compositions. -O’Hagan placed them before him, and played through them all, without -hesitation, without error; with intense sympathy and understanding. Soon -she was beside him, turning over the familiar pages; her wayward curls -brushed his cheek. When the master-touch had sounded the finale of the -last piece, old Crichton pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose in -clarion fashion. - -“What terms were you asking of—er—Ritzmann?” said the Captain -abruptly. - -“The usual ten per cent.,” replied Pamela, “with—something on account.” - -“How much on account?” - -“Ritzmann, I have heard—I know—usually gives ten guineas.” - -She spoke the words with awe. Ten guineas on account of a composition of -_hers_—of her very own! It was a dream! - -“Ah! Ten guineas on account of a ten per cent, royalty? Let me see: we -have eight pieces here. Can you find two more?” - -“There is a suite of three short numbers.” - -“Bring that.” - -Pamela found it, and brought it. O’Hagan played it, and was delighted. - -“Four sharps,” he criticised, “are bad in a composition designed for -general popularity. Would it lose by transposition into a more simple -key?” - -“I think not,” said Pamela. - -“Well,” continued O’Hagan, “it is a matter for discussion later. May I -take these with me?” - -“Of course!” said Pamela. “But——” - -“Can you give me until Thursday to place them for you?” - -“To place them! To place _all_ of them?” - -“All of them! Can you give me until Thursday?” - -Pamela’s pretty eyes were widely staring. - -“You overwhelm me! Do you really mean it?” - -“Will you wait until Thursday and see?” - -“Of course!” said Pamela. - - ————— - - - IV. - A MUSICAL INTERLUDE. - -O’Hagan entered my rooms with the impressive dignity of a Richelieu; in -the very distinction of the man there is something opulent. His refined -_insouciance_ surpasses anything of the kind one could imagine. - -“Will you do me a trifling service, Raymond?” - -“Consider it as done.” - -He threw himself into the blue Chesterfield lounge with the native grace -no lesser man could hope to imitate. His pose suggested that a rapier -hung at his hip and must be taken into consideration. A plumed hat would -have struck no discordant note but merely have harmonised with the -purple-lined cloak. O’Hagan’s head one might surmise to be from a study -by Van Dyck. - -“I am running around to Ritzmann’s, the music-publishers, in Berners -Street.” - -Now, I noted that he carried a full portfolio. - -“At last you have decided to enter the field? You do wisely.” - -“I am acting on behalf of a friend—a lady.” - -“Indeed. What part do I play?” - -“Come along. I will explain.” - -We walked up Oxford Street to the corner of Berners Street. O’Hagan -creates a sensation wherever he appears: I am hardened to this. - -“You will reconnoitre, Raymond. You will send in a card—anybody’s card -but your own—to Mr. Paul Ritzmann.” - -“What!” - -“You are representing Messrs. Angelo Morris, of Monte Video! Probably -there is no such firm; I invented the name. You are prepared to handle -Ritzmann’s dance-catalogue throughout the southern continent. If he -declines to do business, no matter; if he is interested, make an -appointment at your hotel—the Savoy sounds substantial without being -gaudy.” - -“What is the object of this mendacity?” - -“To learn if there is a second door to Ritzmann’s office; another than -that opening on the shop. If there is, come out by it at all costs, and -note where it leads you to. I think, and hope, it will open on a -corridor communicating with the street. From what I know of Ritzmann I -feel confident that there will be such a private entrance. You will -note, also, where the _other_ end of this hypothetical passage leads to. -Probably it will be to a stair. Finally, you will report respecting the -occupant of the suite of offices above—the suite to which this stair -should conduct you.” - -“I am not confident,” I said; “but I will do my best.” - -Three minutes later I was ushered into the Semitic presence of Mr. Paul -Ritzmann. Mr. Ritzmann had a corpulent person, a bald head, and an oily -smile. He wore diamond rings on his left hand as well as on his right, -by which token I knew that he was really rich. A Hebrew of the Ritzmann -type buys a diamond ring as soon as he can afford it, and displays it -upon his right hand. That is an advertising investment; it signifies -that he is ambitious. But when his right hand is full and he begins to -adorn his left it implies that his ambition is realised. - -He made no plunge at my South American offer. He was very cautious. - -“I will give you a ring at the hotel, Mr. Eddington.” (I had sent in the -card of Harry Eddington, who at the time was with an expedition looking -for the South Pole.) “I dare say we may be able to fix something up.” - -“Good morning.” - -I made a plunge for a door on the left of his desk. - -“This way out, Mr. Eddington,” came after me; but I was in the corridor, -and closed the door behind me. - -A white hand with extended fingers was painted on the further wall, and, -beneath it, the words: - - Harris & Harris, - _Domestic Employment Agency_. - -Turning to the right, I passed out into Berners Street. - -“It is well,” said O’Hagan, musingly, when I had made my report. “You -will now get back to the said corridor, without permitting yourself to -be seen from Ritzmann’s shop; you will wait by Ritzmann’s private door, -but on the stair side, so that when I come out he won’t notice you. I -shall hand you something; you will go up Harris and Harris’s stair like -a rocket, concealing, of course, the object referred to, and see about a -cook. Then go home.” - -One pays for the privilege of O’Hagan’s friendship. - -I had not been at my post more than half a minute, when I saw O’Hagan -pass in the street and enter the Ritzmann shop. I began to make notes in -a note-book to excuse my loitering. Leaving me so engaged, you will -please follow the Captain. - -To a counter-clerk: - -“Kindly inform Mr. Ritzmann,” he said, “that the gentleman he is -expecting will see him.” - -“Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Will you take a seat!” - -This, the shop staff were decided, was either a distinguished Russian -composer or a gentleman of title interested in a new musical comedy for -the “Gaiety.” - -A moment later: - -“Mr. Ritzmann will see you at once, sir. This way, if you please.” - -O’Hagan swung grandly office-ward, and entered to find Ritzmann standing -to greet him. - -The clerk was about to retire. - -“My good fellow,” called O’Hagan, “Mr. Ritzmann and I are not to be -interrupted upon any account.” - -The clerk bowed and retired. Ritzmann stared. - -“You say I was expecting you, Mr.——?” - -O’Hagan smiled, waving his hand reassuringly. - -“Pray be seated, Mr. Ritzmann.” - -Mr. Ritzmann accepted the invitation, and O’Hagan sat upon the edge of -the desk facing him. O’Hagan was between Mr. Ritzmann and the bell. - -“I have decided to place with you for immediate publication a parcel of -charming compositions—nine in all.” - -Ritzmann’s eyes began to protrude. - -“They are these.” - -O’Hagan opened the portfolio and set the heap of MSS. on the desk. - -With frequent sideway glances at his extraordinary visitor, Mr. Ritzmann -began to look at the music. - -“Why,” he burst out, suddenly, pushing the whole of it towards the -Captain, “all this stuff has been submitted by post, and declined! All -but this thing; and Miss Crichton was here only the other day with it. I -don’t want the junk, my dear sir! If I’d known that’s what you——” - -O’Hagan waved him to silence. - -“Of all these things I am fully aware, Mr. Ritzmann; but I thought I had -explained that I had selected you to publish these compositions?” - -The other clutched the arms of his chair. - -“_Selected_ me?” - -“That was my expression. Had the music been worthless——” - -“It _is_ worthless! Piffle!” - -“Had the music been worthless I should not have offered it to you. But -each of these nine items is a sound speculation. We shall require nine -agreement-forms.” - -Ritzmann, staring, rose slowly to his feet. - -“Sit down, Mr. Ritzmann.” - -Ritzmann moistened his thick lips preparatory to comment. - -“Sit down, Mr. Ritzmann.” - -He sat down; and his fleshy hands were not quite steady; the diamonds -danced and sparkled. He managed to achieve coherent speech: - -“This is a damn big bluff! But if you bluff from now——” - -“You have royalty-forms in your desk; we shall require nine.” - -Ritzmann got on his feet and plunged for the bell. He was hurled back -with violence; and his eyes protruded unnaturally at sight of the pistol -which pointed at his bald skull. - -“Nine forms, Mr. Ritzmann.” - -“You must—be mad. You—dare not——” - -“There you are in error. I would shoot you without compunction. If I -failed to escape I should shoot myself. I have nothing to live for, and -I should go to eternity with that one good deed to my credit. I will -dictate the titles of the nine pieces and you will fill in the forms.” - -Ritzmann’s face grew ashy. He looked a stricken man. The bundle of forms -shook and rustled like autumn leaves in a breeze. Unemotionally, O’Hagan -read out the titles; shakily, all but illegibly, the publisher wrote -them in. Form after form was filled updated and signed. Two, O’Hagan -rejected as quite illegible. But at last he was satisfied, and pocketed -the nine. - -“Ten guineas on account of each,” he said; “that will be a cheque for -ninety-four pounds, ten shillings, payable to Miss Pamela Crichton.” - -Ritzmann’s face showed that he was contemplating rebellion. - -“I shall count ten, Mr. Ritzmann!” - -The cheque was drawn up and signed. O’Hagan carefully folded and placed -it in his pocket-book. - -“Good day,” he said, and backed towards the door. - -He opened it and stepped out into the passage. He had not closed it ere -with bell and husky voice Ritzmann was summoning assistance. - -O’Hagan handed me the pistol. He took out his cigarette-case and -selected a cigarette. Before he had found his matchbox I was upstairs -and inside Messrs. Harris and Harris’s office. It must have been at -about the moment when I was stating my lack of a suitable parlourmaid, -that three clerks, rushing out of the shop, intercepted the Captain, as, -match in hand, he stood at the street-end of the passage. - -They would have seized him; but O’Hagan’s eyes can quell. - -“Your dirty hands off! The meaning of this outrage?” - -Trembling, grey-faced, Mr. Ritzmann joined the three clerks. A fourth, -who had been detailed to that duty, returned from an adjacent corner -with a constable. - -“Arrest that man! He has robbed me!” - -O’Hagan closed his matchbox with a _click_ and fixed his eyes upon the -officer. - -“Constable,” he said, with dignity, “step into the shop. This is an -outrage for which Mr. Ritzmann shall pay. Step inside if you please—all -of you.” - -The wide-eyed clerks returned to the shop. Ritzmann, never taking his -gaze from O’Hagan, but keeping at a safe distance, entered behind the -Captain, clutching at the perplexed policeman and whispering: “He has -robbed me! He’s got my cheque in his pocket!” - -Having entered the shop,—to the excited clerks: - -“Return to your duties, good fellows!” ordered O’Hagan. “I am not -accustomed to be made an object of vulgar curiosity! Mr. Ritzmann, lead -the way to your office. Constable—follow.” - -The odd trio entered Ritzmann’s sanctum. O’Hagan closed the door. - -“He’s dangerous!” cried the publisher. “He carries a pistol!” - -O’Hagan raised his hand. - -“The officer, Mr. Ritzmann,” he said, “is prepared to do his duty. But -you have not stated your case. Of what am I accused?” - -“Of extorting money from me, at the point of a pistol!” - -“Officer! You have my permission to look for the weapon!” - -The constable ran his hands over O’Hagan. - -“Excuse me, sir,” he reported to Mr. Ritzmann, who was now regaining -colour and perspiring freely, “but the gentleman hasn’t got any pistol -on him!” - -“He’s dropped it in the passage!” yelled Ritzmann. “He——” - -Again O’Hagan raised the forceful hand. - -“One of your clerks can go and look; and would you be good enough to -request your manager to join us?” - -The necessary instructions were given, and the manager appeared. O’Hagan -threw down his bunch of agreements and displayed the cheque. - -“Sir,” he said to the manager, “are these in order?” - -“He made me do it!” cried Ritzmann hoarsely, “at the point of a pistol!” - -A shopman entered to report that there was no pistol in the passage. -Ritzmann began to swear. - -“Silence!” thundered O’Hagan. “Silence! you contemptible scoundrel!” To -the manager: “Are those agreements and this cheque quite regular?” - -“Well,” said the manager, glancing deprecatingly at his employer—“I can -see nothing irregular about them. They are in your writing, Mr. -Ritzmann!” - -“He held a pistol to my head!” cried the publisher. “You’re a pack of -fools! Fools! Officer! will you do your duty and arrest that thief!” - -O’Hagan took a stride towards the speaker. - -“Stop him!” quavered Ritzmann, paling. “He——” - -“Mr. Ritzmann,” said O’Hagan calmly, “you are a low blackguard! -Repenting of your bargain, you invented this cock-and-bull story as a -means of evading it! Knowing me to be a man who has led an adventurous -life, you thought yourself safe in charging me with carrying arms! I -have several witnesses to the fact that you have grossly slandered me. -That your charge is absurd—insane—worthy of a -‘penny-dreadful’—renders it none the less slanderous. You will either -apologise, here and now, or—there is my card. My solicitor will take -charge of the matter in the morning!” - -Down on to the desk before the bewildered Ritzmann, O’Hagan cast his -card. Like everything appertaining to that remarkable man, his card is -impressive, unusual, striking; a battery. Mr. Ritzmann, his manager and -the constable, read the following: - - ────────────────────────────────────────────── - - - =_Capt. the Hon. Barnard O’Hagan_,= - =V.C., D.S.O.= - - =_Junior Guards’ Club._= - - ────────────────────────────────────────────── - -The constable stood stiffly to attention, and saluted. - -“What am I to do, sir?” he asked—of O’Hagan. - -“Ring up Gerrard 04385!” - -Ritzmann dropped into his chair and sat there with bulging eyes. The -constable, amid a surprising silence, took up the telephone and got the -desired number. - -“Ask if that is the Junior Guards,” directed O’Hagan. - -Yes, it was the Junior Guards. - -“See if Colonel Sir Gerald Fitz Ayre is in the house.” - -The name of that celebrated soldier electrified the Captain’s audience. -Fitz Ayre was found and came to the telephone. O’Hagan took the receiver -from the now extremely respectful officer. - -“That you, Fitz Ayre? Yes; O’Hagan speaking. My confounded -eccentricities of costume have got me into hot water again! Will you -please _describe me_ to the person who is now coming to the ’phone! Yes. -Thank you.” - -Ritzmann, summoned imperiously, took the receiver in his trembling -hands. But he did not listen to the Colonel’s florid description of -O’Hagan’s person; for his mind was otherwise engaged. He knew himself -the victim of a tremendous bluff, but, now, he knew the bluffer for one -above his reach; he knew, moreover, that he lacked evidence, and that he -had been guilty of a slander which might cost him thousands. Pamela -Crichton’s music was quite saleable. He would lose nothing by the deal; -he would see to that. His course was clear. - -“Thanks. Good-bye.” - -Ritzmann turned to O’Hagan. - -“I apologise, Captain O’Hagan!” he said. “I was mad! Officer—a -sovereign for you!” - - * * * * * - -“May I present my friend, Mr. Lawrence Raymond?” said O’Hagan. “This is -Miss Pamela Crichton, the clever composer I spoke about! Isn’t she a -picture?” - -She was. But she blushed furiously. O’Hagan handed her a bundle of -agreements. As she looked through them, her flushed cheeks grew quite -pale. When a cheque for ninety guineas was placed in her hands, frankly, -I thought she would have swooned. - -Old Crichton, hovering about in the dingy background, showed as a man -who is dazed beyond comprehension. - -“Oh, Captain O’Hagan,” began Pamela, and her pretty eyes were troubled, -“how can I thank you! Why have you done this—for _me_?” - -“Because you are _you_, Pamela!” said O’Hagan. “Because you are so very -charming, and because one day you will be so very famous!” - -Pamela met his eyes frankly—and was content. - -Throughout our brief stay, O’Hagan’s treatment of the girl was worthy of -the days of chivalry. Never, for a moment, did he presume upon that -superiority of blood which is so real in his eyes, nor upon the service -he had done this newsagent’s daughter. When we took our leave he kissed -her hand in his astonishing, cavalierly way, tactfully ignoring her -sweet confusion, clapped her father patronisingly upon the back—and -swung out of the shop, a gentleman full three hundred years behind his -time—the only living being who has recovered the Grand Manner. - -You would like to meet my friend O’Hagan. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE SECOND. - - HE CLEARS THE COURSE FOR TRUE - LOVE. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE SECOND. - HE CLEARS THE COURSE FOR TRUE LOVE. - - - I. - THE GLOOMY CAVALIER. - -That class distinctions should be marked by insuperable barriers is a -theory that amounts to a religion with O’Hagan. The _caste_ system of -India is delightful to his exclusiveness. I think, between patricians -and plebeians, he would like to erect a series of stone hedges. To the -voice of Democracy he is deaf, and would have a governing body selected -from the oldest families in the kingdom. - -“To-day,” he will declare, “there are many gentlemen externally -indistinguishable from grocers’ assistants. I know dukes who look like -head waiters, and head waiters who look like earls.” - -He throws back the folds of his astonishing satin-lined cloak, more -fully to reveal its inner splendour. - -“I, myself,” he confides, “have been mistaken for an impresario, and -once for a professional conjuror. I have repeatedly been compelled to -thrash my man in order to check attempts at familiarity.” - -He sighs for the days when nobility unmistakably proclaimed itself; when -an aristocrat was disgraced who dabbled in commerce and a tradesman -castigated who raised his eyes above the level prescribed for him. - -“A gentleman,” says O’Hagan, “is never at a loss for the right word at -the right time. He knows when to throw down the gauntlet, and when to -apologise (to his equals). In this way, factitious gentility often is -unmasked.” - -In support of this contention Captain O’Hagan will tell you a story. - -One evening, at about seven o’clock, he chanced to be standing upon the -corner of a prosperous suburban avenue in an exclusive, if slightly -snob-ridden, district. As my memory serves me, he was waiting for a cab. - -Merely to say that Captain O’Hagan stands upon a corner is to do poor -justice to the verity. O’Hagan not only stands upon a corner; he -occupies and ornaments it. With picturesque head, hatless, -aloft—something of a rebuke to the Lady O’Hagan who was a contemporary -of Charles II.—one gloved hand resting upon the heavy ebony cane, two -fingers of the other dangling the large monocle, dependent on its black -silk ribbon, his is a figure for long remembrance. - -From the avenue came a lady escorted by a gentleman. The lady was young -and pretty; her face peeped out from her wraps bewitchingly; and she -carried one of those feminine sachet arrangements, in which, by the -light of the street lamp, she anxiously searched. Her companion -ransacked his overcoat pockets, his dress-coat pockets, his waistcoat -and trousers pockets; and even looked in his crush-hat. When, following -a hurried colloquy, he retraced his steps. - -O’Hagan, his monocle held some three inches from his left eye, surveyed -the charming figure, which now added a new beauty to the corner, with -critical aesthetic appreciation. Do not suppose the attention a rude -one. O’Hagan is incapable of rudeness to a woman. In another it had been -rudeness—yes; but O’Hagan’s frank interest, though embarrassing, is an -exquisite flattery. His approval is a superb tribute. - -He approved. The lady was not unaware of this, nor in the slightest -degree displeased. Returning the forgetful cavalier, the pair moved away -past the Captain. And two bright eyes acknowledged admiration with a -discreet glance swift as a rapier thrust. - -But Jealousy has as many heads and as many eyes as Siva; nor has it a -lesser malignancy. The man turned; strode back to O’Hagan. - -“What do you mean, sir, by staring at my friend in that way?” - -His voice, his gaze, his attitude, were truculent. O’Hagan was delighted -with such a display of spirit. He dropped the glass and bowed. - -“If your friend has complained of me, sir, I shall never forgive -myself.” - -“I await no complaint from her. _I_ am complaining, confound your -impudence!” - -O’Hagan raised the glass again, measuring the depths of the speaker’s -resentment. He considered the words ill-chosen and ill-mannered; and -instantly had revised his estimate of the speaker’s character. - -“An entirely different matter, sir,” says he. “_You_ can go to the -devil.” - -The other flushed and thrust himself nearer to the suave Captain. - -“You overdressed puppy!” he rapped furiously. “I have a mind to knock -you down!” - -Dropped the monocle; and a slip of pasteboard was thrust into the hand -of the irate man. - -“Your card, sir!” demanded O’Hagan. “At a more fitting time I will -afford you every facility.” - -“I only exchange cards with gentlemen! sneered the other, savagely; and -tore into fragments the one he held. - -“Your card, sir!” repeated O’Hagan sternly. “You have insulted me, and I -demand an opportunity to reply to you. Your card, sir!” - -“Be damned to you!” said the other—and walked off to rejoin the lady. - -O’Hagan was but a pace later beside her. He bowed, as no man has bowed -in England since the days of plumes and lace. - -“Madam, permit me to offer you my most humble apologies for having -annoyed you!” - -Innocent eyes, with an imp of mischief dancing in their shadowed pools, -met the Captain’s. - -“You are mistaken, sir. You have not annoyed me in the slightest!” - -(“She was a born coquette,” O’Hagan has confided to me; “but devilish -pretty and full of spirit. Too joyous a nature by far to dovetail with -the sour-jowl who had insulted me.”) - -“Then permit me to apologise for your friend,” continued the amazing -Captain, “who forces this necessity upon me by declining his card!” - -“How dare you!” cried the friend, breathless. “Hang it all! I’ll give -you in charge if you continue to annoy me!” - -“Your card, sir,” persisted O’Hagan. “It is unavoidable that you afford -me satisfaction for the insult placed upon me.” - -“Come along, Moira,” breathed the enraged man, and offered his arm to -the girl. “We shall be late for dinner. Never mind this lunatic!” - -They proceeded. O’Hagan paced gloomily beside them. Some twenty yards -thus; then: - -“Clear out, confound you!” cried the man, turning upon O’Hagan with a -leaping blaze of passion. “By heaven, you will make me forget myself!” - -“You have done so already—for which reason I demand to know where I may -find you.” - -Choking—wrought upon to the limit of his endurance—the other stood, -mouth atwitch, hands clenched. - -“Your card, sir,” said O’Hagan icily. - -The man addressed snatched again at the girl’s arm and hurried her -onward. Speech, now, was denied to him; his companion could feel how he -quivered and shook in the gale of his emotions. Somewhat, she was -frightened; but in part, too, the novelty of the situation pleased the -romantic within her. She knew not what to say apposite to the strange -impasse, so wisely said nothing. - -Captain O’Hagan completed the silent trio. - -Through a gate whose opening discovered a carriage-sweep they passed. -Upon a neat lawn lights blazed out from every visible window of a -substantial mansion. The obstinate and enraged stranger recovered -command of his tongue. - -“How dare you follow me into these premises!” - -“I am not a spy, to follow any man,” retorted O’Hagan. “I am -_accompanying_ you!” - -The bell’s ring brought a trim maid. In the cosy hall, where a fire -crackled good cheer, and a well-assorted array of hats and coats bespoke -a convivial gathering, several loungers were revealed. As the sour man -and the pretty girl entered, the unbidden visitor heard the former -mention the name of the host, “Major Trefusis.” - -Captain O’Hagan the maid eyed doubtfully. The new arrival smiled an evil -triumph. But O’Hagan calmly handed his card to the girl. - -“Request Major Trefusis to step this way!” he said. - -His pose, as, standing just within the hall, he raised his glass and -surveyed the guests, was a liberal education in deportment; his supreme -self-possession a pure delight, a thing humanly inimitable. - - ————— - - - II. - THE OTHER. - -Major Trefusis, retired, with an Indian liver but a warm heart, made a -rushing entry, O’Hagan’s card in hand. - -“What! brought a friend. Repton? Delighted to have you, Captain!” - -The sour and wrath-sore Repton raised a protesting hand. His hat and -coat the maid had taken charge of; his pretty companion, not daring to -dally longer, had escaped into a drawing-room, with a smothered peal of -musical laughter. - -“One moment, Major!” Mr. Repton drew his sandy eyebrows together and -glared upon the intruder. “This fellow is no friend of mine, he imagines -that I have offended him and has followed me here, demanding my name and -address like a confounded policeman!” - -O’Hagan fixed his eyes upon Mr. Repton with quelling glance. - -“You have likened me to a confounded policeman, sir. For which new -insult I shall pull your nose!” He turned to Major Trefusis, in that -hour the most surprised man from Land’s End to John O’Groats. “Mr. -Repton is your guest, Major, and of him I shall say nothing, except that -he has insulted me; deliberately, and several times. Our cause of -misunderstanding is no concern of yours, happily; but as a brother -officer and a gentleman you will support my claim to know where I may -call upon Mr. Repton to-morrow?” - -The Major’s prominent, Cambridge eyes regarded the quivering Mr. Repton, -whose wrath yet was badly bottled, and escaped in divers sibilant -exclamations. - -“Don’t you know, Repton”—he said; “I mean to say, Repton, the Captain -is within his rights, damme if he’s not! Why the blazes won’t you give -him your card—what?” - -“Because I don’t choose to hand my card to any ruffian who cares to ask -for it, Major!” - -Thus, Mr. Repton, making an effective exit by the same opening as the -lady. - -Major Trefusis watched him go, and his red face grew redder, and his -wiry moustache more aggressively porcupinish. He snorted, cleared his -throat, and turned to O’Hagan—who anticipated him: - -“I regret this incident exceedingly, Major. Pray accept my very sincere -apologies——” - -“Not at all, Captain—not at all! You’re the O’Hagan who was with the -—th Irish Guards in South Africa—what? Heard of you! heard of you! -Delighted to meet you! It’s an ill wind—what?” - -They shook hands warmly. - -“If Repton wasn’t my guest—and my sister’s guest,” continued Major -Trefusis, “I’d say he was a puppy and that I’d always thought so! But -he’s in my house, and I can’t tell you what he doesn’t want to tell you -himself. You’re just in time for dinner, Captain!” - -“But, Major——” - -“Give me your coat, man——” - -“Really, Major——!” - -“Brothers in arms and all that, what! Damme! you’ve _got_ to stay!” - -“I fear I am intruding——” - -“Tut! tut! Come and have a peg. Just time! Were you in Kandahar -when——” etc., etc. - -And the pair, arm-in-arm, drifted off together—more strangely met than -any two the classic muse has sung. O’Hagan’s reluctance in a degree was -sincere, for he had formed a strong attachment for the Major at sight -and would not gladly have inconvenienced him. But, on the other hand, no -human power, save of course physically superior force, could have moved -him from that house until his scrupulous honour was satisfied. Had his -host proved of a different kidney, then O’Hagan patiently would have -patrolled the neighbourhood until the reappearance of his man. - -It is recorded, O’Hagan will tell you, that his ancestor Patrick, -sometime of the Musketeers of Louis XIII., on one occasion waited for -eight hours in the snow outside the hotel of the Duchesse de C——, in -order to reprimand an unknown nobleman who had trodden on his corn. But -within eight minutes from the time of the gentleman’s coming out, -Patrick O’Hagan had aroused the concierge of the Hotel de C—— to take -him in again, summoned a surgeon, summoned a priest, summoned an -undertaker, and reported for duty at the Louvre. A bloody ancestor for -any man. - -My friend’s code, then, is peculiar, but iron-bound. He scrupulously -avoided the topic of Mr. Repton with his host; but when, later, Mrs. -Lestrange, the Major’s sister, came in to dinner on the arm of Captain -O’Hagan, the countenance of Repton would have served as model for a -Notre Dame gargoyle. - -The Major, too, had been whispering to one man: “_The_ O’Hagan! You -recall the incident at so-and-so?” And to another: “O’Hagan, V.C.! One -of the O’Hagan’s of Dunnamore!” To a girl: “You must have read how the -Boers ambushed a company of the So-and-So’s at So-and-So? Kipling has -written about it! Well, this is Captain O’Hagan, who,” etc., etc. - -So that, altogether, my friend has assured me that he recalls no more -enjoyable evening. His conversation is always brilliant, but on this -occasion, I gather, he surpassed himself. All eyes were fixed upon the -handsome, debonair visitant from an older world of romance; for O’Hagan -is at heart a Musketeer. Moira Cumberley in particular found him wholly -entrancing; and each glance of her bright eyes which rested upon the -cavalierly figure, likewise poured gall and wormwood into two souls. One -of these souls was the sombre soul of Repton; the other was the joyous -but hungry soul of a certain Mr. Bruce McIvor. - -(“I could see how the wind blew,” O’Hagan will explain. “McIvor was the -favoured swain, and naturally enough; for he was a fine lad and -descended from Robert Bruce. When, later in the evening, I was presented -to Mrs. Cumberley—Moira’s mother—I discovered the fly in the ointment. -Repton had money—but no blood, my boy; no family—and poor McIvor, -though he could trace back to Bruce, was a mere free-lance journalist. -Mrs. Cumberley also lacked breed, but worshipped Pluto. She had banned -the McIvor and encouraged Repton. I saw my course plainly.”) - -When my friend Bernard O’Hagan sees his course plainly, there are -squalls a-brewing for any unhappy wight who queries the Captain’s -navigation. - - ————— - - - III. - NATURAL SELECTION. - -Moira sat out a dance with O’Hagan in the conservatory. Needless to say, -the Captain does not dance. McIvor’s sighful acknowledgment of the -girl’s disappearance rose above the music. Repton’s Mephistophelian -glare pierced palm and fern. But Moira blushed, and settled down -_tête-à-tête_. - -“My dear little girl,” said O’Hagan blandly, “you are so very pretty and -charming, that I am going to talk to you seriously about your lovers.” - -Moira gasped as the amazing Captain took her hand and patted it -paternally. Without preamble he had placed the conversation upon a -thrilling level. It was a unique experience, but she rather liked it. - -“Now, I sincerely hope you do not care for Mr. Repton,” continued -O’Hagan; “because late to-night or early to-morrow morning I propose to -pull his nose!” - -“Oh!” said Moira. But the language of her eloquent eyes added: “Do him -good!” - -“He has asked you to marry him?” - -(A rebellious glance). - -“Has he not?” - -(Slight nod). - -“You have not yet given him your answer?” - -(Head-shake). - -“I am glad of that; because I want you to marry Bruce McIvor,” explained -O’Hagan judicially. - -“Indeed!” snapped Moira, with a mutinous shrug of pretty shoulders. - -“Yes,” said O’Hagan. “I will tell you why. He is a handsome, fine man, -and one of a brave and ancient race. He loves you in a way altogether -different from Repton’s way.” - -“Has he told you so?”—frigidly. - -“No. I have not had an opportunity to speak to him yet! But it is so. -With the stimulus of your affection, Moira, with the chance of such a -prize as you, he will go far. I understand men of family, my dear, and I -tell you that Bruce is a splendid fellow. As for you, Moira, I can only -say that I should like to marry you, myself! But since that is -impossible, I want it to be Bruce.” - -He was curiously impersonal; a kind of directing Beneficence which from -an Olympic height smoothed the tangled skeins of lesser lives. But there -was a finality in his pronouncements against whose thrall the girl -fought stubbornly with all the armoury of her woman-soul. For another -than Bernard O’Hagan thus to have championed McIvor must have spelled -ruin for McIvor’s cause; but if O’Hagan had been pressing the suit of an -unknown, and not that of one towards whom the girl was predisposed -favourably, his advocacy must have told. Moira experienced a sense of -weakness; later, of absolute futility. - -Once submit to the yoke of O’Hagan’s regal patronage, and you are lost. -You become a mere pawn. His majestic interference is a stupendous force. - -Mr. Repton appeared to claim a dance. - -Muffled thunder seemed to be called for and a little incidental music in -the form of a sustained chord in G minor. - -“I have been having a chat with Moira, sir,” said O’Hagan, haughtily, -rising as Repton entered. - -The muscles of Repton’s jaws stood out, lumpish. - -“We have decided,” continued the cool voice, “that your suit must be -withdrawn! It is distasteful to Moira—and distasteful to me!” - -Repton’s face, in the dimness, showed a greyish white. He swallowed -noisily—and took a step towards Captain O’Hagan. Moira clutched at the -Captain’s arm. She did not fully realise what had happened. Only she -knew that this strange man, who half fascinated and half frightened her, -had precipitated a climax in her life; had, from no personal motive that -she could fathom—unless antipathy from Repton and friendliness to a -descendant of Bruce—brought her love affairs violently to a head. - -Resentment found place in her heart. Captain O’Hagan was a mere chance -acquaintance. Yet—wondrous, expansively human O’Hagan!—she gladly sank -her individuality in the overflowing lake of his own and was not -philosopher enough to know the source of her contentment. Repton had -been very attentive, had spent his money lavishly, but he had been more -exacting than his position warranted. What a pity that Bruce was so -poor! - -For the world (so Moira’s mother taught) was ruled by a gilded -Providence with a rod of iron: a rod of iron tipped with a magical -talisman—a bright new sovereign. - -Mr. Repton achieved speech. - -“Is it—true . . . what this . . . ruffian . . . says?” - -“I note that you call me a ruffian, sir,” said O’Hagan icily. - -Moira Cumberley was trembling. - -“I am—awfully sorry,” she answered, speaking with difficulty, “that -this has come about. Don’t think I want to be bad friends, Mr. Repton. I -want us to be friends always. But——” - -“She cannot entertain marriage with a man whose nose I shall pull in the -morning!” concluded O’Hagan. “I have other plans for her future. Your -card, sir—and you may go!” - -Is there another living could have framed such a speech?—another who -could have carried such a situation in such a manner? I challenge you to -produce him. - -Repton turned on his heel. Of words he was bereft again; action was -impossible. - - ————— - - - IV. - AT FIG TREE COURT. - I. - -Captain O’Hagan entered my rooms whilst I was at breakfast—hatless, as -is his custom; debonair, as he cannot fail to be. His presence has the -curious effect of changing relative values. His individuality absorbs: -one can no longer describe the scene: the scene is Captain O’Hagan. As -he lounges upon the blue Chesterfield, with that odd pose of the hip -which suggests that a rapier swings there, I often think that had he -flourished contemporaneously with Velasquez he had surely inspired the -artist to a supreme achievement. “Portrait of the Chevalier Bernard -O’Hagan,” must have been counted the Spanish master’s _chef d’œuvre_. - -“My dear Raymond, are you acquainted with a person of the name of -Repton?” - -“Sidney Repton, company promoter, newspaper proprietor, and so forth?” - -“That will be the fellow! He gave me the slip last night! My position, -as a guest, precluded the possibility of obtaining his address from -another guest; and the fellow left without his hat. But his address was -not in his hat. Where does he live?” - -“39A, Fig Tree Court.” - -“Will you come around with me?” - -“For what, purpose?” - -“I am going to pull his nose!” - -“He will probably prosecute you!” - -“I think not. But I am entirely at his service. And what about Bruce -McIvor?” - -“McIvor is a man of great promise. He has been unfortunate. He would -make an ideal leader-writer. But he lacks the necessary influence to -secure such a post.” - -O’Hagan frowned thoughtfully. - -“He lacks incentive, Raymond,” he said. “A man who can trace his -ancestry to Robert Bruce requires no influence other than that of blood. -Blood, my boy! that is the secret of success! When he is engaged to the -girl he loves—the girl I have chosen for him—he will go far. Mark my -words, Raymond; he will go far.” - -“I was unaware that he was a friend of yours.” - -“I have never spoken to him! But it is unnecessary. A leader-writer, you -say? On behalf of an old-established and soundly Conservative organ, of -course? Such vacancies, I take it, are rare?” - -“Very rare. The leader-writer of the _Universe_ is about to become -editor. That will create a vacancy. But poor McIvor is not in the -running.” - -“How is that?” - -“Well—your friend, Repton, is a big shareholder—managing director. And -Repton—for some reason—is no friend to McIvor.” - -“The reason is evident to me, Raymond. But I am wasting time. I shall be -too late to pull Repton’s nose; and, owing to other engagements, the -pleasure would have to be unduly postponed if I missed him this morning. -Are you ready?” - -“My dear fellow, you really must excuse me!” - -O’Hagan rose, picked up his cane as though it were a sword, swung his -shoulders as though to adjust a bandolier, and sighed sadly. - -“I am disappointed in you, Raymond. Your ancestor, who helped to hold -Limerick, would be disappointed in you, too, I fear. You are tainted -with the modern heresies which substitute the solicitor for the second, -the divorce-court for the rapier. Good morning.” - -The dignified displeasure of the Hon. Bernard O’Hagan is a dire penalty -for any man to incur. The Captain retired from my rooms as who should -say, “There is a plebeian strain somewhere here!” It was a Charles -rebuking a Buckingham; save that the Buckingham was a sorry Villiers, -and the Charles a credit to the house of Stuart. - -Leaving me to my breakfast and my humiliation, proceed with O’Hagan to -No. 39A, Fig Tree Court. - -His loud and long ring upon the bell of Repton’s chambers brought that -monied and harried bachelor in person to the door. Repton wore slippers -and a dressing-gown. His pale, blonde face faded a tone upon recognition -of his early caller. Some dread there was, mingled with the anger of a -man used to the servility which Talent accords to Capital; for the -calmly persistent and imperious truculence of Captain O’Hagan is -awesome. - -O’Hagan extended his arm and seized Repton’s prominent nose in a -vice-grip. - -Uttering a furious imprecation, Sidney Repton struck out at him. But a -pupil of Shashu Myuku (Grand Master of the Higher Jiu-jitsu) is elusive -as a marsh-light. There are not six Europeans, my friend has assured me, -initiated in the occultry of Japanese super-force. - -Repton’s fists met vacancy. Obedient to a power which, seemingly -percolating from his nose through every nerve of his body, rendered him -helpless—log-like—Repton dropped, panting, to his knees. O’Hagan -thrust him prostrate, entered, and closed the door behind him. The feat -apparently was performed effortless; such is the outstanding wonder of -this science (called, I believe, _judo_). - -“Police!” gasped the outraged man. “Help! _Police!_” - -“Sir,” said O’Hagan sternly, “I should not exploit these arts upon a -gentleman. But your whole conduct has shown me plainly that you are not -one. However, I shall now resort to the ordinary methods employed to -chastise an offensive churl.” - -He removed, a light grey glove (imbrued with the blood of Repton), cast -it contemptuously from him; and, as Repton rose, clutching the -maltreated organ, O’Hagan grasped his heavy cane with unmistakable -intent. - -“Now,” said O’Hagan, standing on the threshold, “you will recall having -referred to me as an ‘overdressed puppy’! I have yet to deal with you in -regard to the offensive terms ‘lunatic,’ ‘ruffian,’ and ‘confounded -policeman!’” - -“Curse you! I’ll kill you!” panted Repton and crouched, looking up to -O’Hagan with glaring, malignant eyes which, at that moment indeed, -mirrored a murderous soul. - -“I think not,” was the reply. “Others have attempted the feat; but I am -here to-day, alive to resent insult.” - -The other did not rise. Repton already was defeated. The business-like -ferocity of O’Hagan, the absolute efficiency of his methods, caused to -evaporate what remained of the quality vaguely labelled Courage, leaving -only the brine of bitter anger and mortification. - -“What do you want?” he said slowly, racking his muddled brains for a -mode of retribution which should not render him ridiculous. - -He stood up and backed toward his desk. - -“Remain where you are!” directed O’Hagan, pointing his cane. “Attempt to -reach any weapon, and I shall thrash you until I am tired!” - -“I am unarmed,” muttered Repton sullenly. “You have a heavy stick.” - -The situation was wildly bizarre—unlike anything within his experience; -of which he had dreamed. The querulous voice did not seem his own. - -O’Hagan placed his cane upon a chair, and raised the monocle. - -“Do you contemplate an attack?” he asked, with a kind of pleased -surprise. - -Repton dropped into an armchair, and sank his face in his hands. His -inflamed nose robbed the scene of a certain pathos which otherwise had -found place there. - -“You will sit at your desk,” said O’Hagan, “and write a note to the new -editor of the _Universe_ informing him that Mr. Bruce McIvor will be his -leader-writer.” - -Repton was galvanised. He started up; clutched the chair-arms. - -“I shall not! Your damned interference in my affairs——” His voice -broke. - -“Very well.” O’Hagan took up his cane. “The alternative is equally -pleasing to me.” - -“Look here!” Repton was on his feet again, hands twitching. “I’ve got no -chance with you! You’re a bully!——” - -“I warn you that I regard those words as a new insult. Indeed, that is -the greatest insult of all. Should you term one a bully who sued you for -slander?” O’Hagan’s eyes were bright. “Learn, that when you insult a -gentleman, the choice of weapons is his! The law is a weapon for those -who cannot fight their own battles, not for such as I!” - -Ah! what would you have given to have heard him deliver that speech? But -you cannot even picture him, head aloft, foot advanced; hear the ringing -voice; quail before the flashing eye. - -Repton wrote. - -“Now, a letter to McIvor, giving him the appointment at the same salary -as his predecessor.” - -Repton grasped at the desk. The ferrule of O’Hagan’s cane tapped upon -the writing-pad. - -“At the same salary as his predecessor, Mr. Repton.” - -The note was written. - -“Ring up all your fellow-directors, or all whom you can,” ordered the -Captain, “and tell them of this appointment.” - -Repton hesitated. To comply was to burn his boats. The cane quivered in -O’Hagan’s nervous grasp. - -“It’s irregular. It may be annulled at Wednesday’s meeting.” - -“If it is annulled I shall thrash you in public, when and where I next -meet you. You will be at liberty to take what steps you please.” - -Lifting the receiver from the hook, Sidney Repton made several calls, -briefly communicating to those who ruled the _Universe_ that Mr. Bruce -McIvor was a desirable acquisition to the literary staff. He was -vanquished. In aught save exact compliance he saw ridicule—the contempt -of Fleet Street. - -He turned to O’Hagan, pale faced, eyes flaming. Words trembled unspoken -upon his tongue. - -“Stop!” - -O’Hagan spoke the word imperiously, and raised his hand. - -“You have bought immunity,” he continued, “in respect of your insults -from ‘overdressed puppy’ to ‘bully.’ Any you may utter henceforward I -shall deal with separately.” - -He strode toward the door; turned in a flash . . . and struck a revolver -out of Repton’s hand. Stooping, he picked it from the carpet. - -“I shall consider my action in the matter of this murderous assault, Mr. -Repton,” he said icily. “My behaviour will largely depend upon your -own.” - -He slipped the weapon into his pocket, and turned again. The door -slammed behind him. - - ————— - - - - II. - -We caught Bruce McIvor just as he was about to go out. I think I have -never seen a man quite so blankly amazed as he when the letter of -appointment was placed in his hand. I am more or less accustomed to the -various emotions expressed by the victims of O’Hagan’s extraordinary -philanthropy; but McIvor was positively alarming. He seemed to be dazed. - -I think he experienced that kind of sentiment which makes a Frenchman -weep, intoxicates an Irishman, but chokes a Scotsman. - -In the cab which O’Hagan had in waiting we were a silent trio. O’Hagan -leant back humming a gay melody, whilst McIvor sat watching him as if he -half expected him to vanish like some Arabian _ginn_. - -Into a charming little villa we filed. McIvor’s nervousness was -appalling. He kept close to my distinguished friend, and hung upon his -words as though in them alone he hoped for salvation. In a pretty, -_petite_ drawing-room we waited; the young Scot, seated on the edge of a -chair, looking like a man on trial for murder; I hard put to it to -preserve a serene countenance; and O’Hagan wandering from picture to -picture, and surveying each through his uplifted monocle with the -critical gaze of a connoisseur. - -Then he turned the glass upon the door, drawing himself up with -inimitable grandeur - -Entered a very pretty girl, and a very prim lady, more mature; -excellently but dryly, preserved. - -McIvor rose and coughed and looked everywhere but straight before him. -The pretty girl blushed frantically. The other lady stared, extending -her hand to O’Hagan. - -O’Hagan bowed. O’Hagan’s bow is a notable event. - -His neat introductory speech ended with something to the effect that—— - -“My friend, Mr. Lawrence Raymond, would like to be counted among _your_ -friends.” - -I was acknowledged. - -“I am delighted, Miss Cumberley,” he continued, linking his arm in that -of McIvor and drawing him forward, “to present to you the new -leader-writer of the _Universe_. Mrs. Cumberley—your future son-in-law. -Congratulations!” - -Can you picture the scene? I think not. Heavens! what a man! I take off -my hat to Bernard O’Hagan. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE THIRD. - - HE MEETS THE LEOPARD LADY. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE THIRD. - HE MEETS THE LEOPARD LADY. - - - I. - THE BOOM-MAKER. - -My friend Captain O’Hagan frequently is misunderstood; his studied -singularity of appearance is falsely ascribed to a desire for notoriety. -Whereas he eschews and abominates publicity of any kind, and merely -seeks to establish a visible distinction betwixt the aristocrat and the -plebeian. - -The ever-increasing facilities for airing one’s grievances in long -primer, he contends, are destructive of that chaste reserve once -characteristic of our race. I agree with O’Hagan. He declares that we -love to be interviewed. - -“Is it not true, Raymond,” he cries, “that for the sake of seeing her -photograph (retouched) in the columns of a daily paper, Mrs. Brown-Jones -will reveal to the blushing public the secret of her corsets? Does she -not draw attention to the graceful contour of her form, and she (the -mother of a family) take the man in the street into her confidence, -imparting to him intimate particulars respecting her wardrobe which, if -used indiscreetly, would prove most compromising? - -“Alas, O’Hagan,” I reply, “it is so.” - -He throws himself back in his chair, purple-lined cloak widely flying; -picturesque, hatless head raised in scorn. He is the focus of a hundred -gazes. - -“A young lady,” he continues, “whom one might assume from her picture in -the advertisement column to be not wholly destitute of modesty, will -inform edified readers that ‘until Mrs. Hodge brought me a box of Nippo -Ointment my face was one red mass of pimples!’ She will declare that -formerly she was unable to sleep at night owing to the itching of her -back!” - -His scorn is terrible; superbly fearful. Advertisement is anathema. - -We are seated in the Park, wherein at the moment no one else is talked -of but my distinguished friend. Those who have the honour of his -acquaintance acquire a new popularity with the less fortunate. Several -countesses and a charming duchess have repassed us no fewer than nine -times. But O’Hagan, serenely insensible to the admiration which he -excites in so many bosoms, lounges regally aloof, as one upon a lofty -minaret who scarce glances down to the throngs beneath him. - -An author of “costume” romances passes. His studiously cultivated -resemblance to Napoleon III. usually earns him a buzz of acknowledgment. -This morning he moves amid the chill of unrecognition, and raises his -prominent moustache fiercely and rudely as he glares at my companion, -who usurps all homage. - -“That fellow stares in an unwarrantable manner,” says O’Hagan; and -taking my arm, he proceeds in the same direction. - -We overtake the author, despite my lagging footsteps; for I perceive -that my friend is bent upon some extravagant act. - -“Pardon me, sir!” - -The author turns, glaring. - -“But are you connected with the house of Buonaparte?” - -The author, puzzled, faintly gratified: - -“Not directly, sir. But what——” - -“I regret that, sir. I cherish an antipathy from the family which I may -term hereditary. Your reply deprives me of the pleasure of trimming your -_moustachios_!” - -The man is stricken speechless. It is such an encounter as he has -portrayed (on paper) a score of times. But in the actuality it finds him -lacking. - -“For your whole appearance is most distasteful to me,” concludes the -Captain. “Good morning.” - -(We proceed.) - -A trembling voice which says something about “a letter from my -solicitor,” reaches our ears, faintly. - -“The solicitor again, Raymond!” laughs O’Hagan. “Never the friend to -measure the length of one’s blade! Your knights of the pen make sorry -cavaliers!” - -I grant it. And the worst of my bad dreams is that -wherein—unaccompanied by the magnificent and terrible O’Hagan—I -encounter some of those whom he has browbeaten in my presence! - -But, as I think I already have stated, O’Hagan sometimes is -misunderstood. - -At a certain club, of which O’Hagan is not a member, my friend was -introduced to an American gentleman who proclaimed himself a press -agent. - -(“I like Americans—real, full-blooded, whole-hearted Americans,” -O’Hagan has told me. “I can even appreciate how, in an American, -commercial acumen and gentility may be wedded. My great grand-uncle, -Edmond, distinguished himself, as you remember, in the Civil War.” - -His great grand-uncle, Edmond, is a favourite source of anecdote; but -the impression left upon my mind is that a more truculent, bloodthirsty -swashbuckler never breathed God’s air.) - -“I am very delighted to have met you, Captain O’Hagan,” said the press -agent, whose name was Alex. Dewson. “I would like to put up a -proposition right now!” - -O’Hagan fumbled, impressively, for the broad black ribbon upon which -depends his monocle. He raised the glass, and, holding it at some little -distance from his right eye, surveyed the speaker. O’Hagan’s right eye, -magnified by the pebble, can show, on occasions, as a large grey orb of -intolerance. - -“You interest me, Mr. Dewson.” - -“I’ll interest you some more yet, sir!” declared Dewson, with cheery -confidence. “It’s likely you’ll have heard of a little author called -Ronald Brandon?” - -He spoke the words waggishly; as one might say: “You may have heard a -little Stratford fellow, called Shakespeare, mentioned?”—or, “You’ve -perhaps seen the name of a rather likely figure painter, known as -Michelangelo?” - -In point of fact, Ronald Brandon really _was_ a “little” author; and, as -it happened, O’Hagan never had heard of him. He has never heard of _any_ -modern fictionists; he regards them _all_ with immeasurable contempt. -Mr. Dewson’s question was purely a rhetoric question, however, and he -proceeded without pausing for a reply: - -“His new book (it’ll break all the windows) is ‘Jules Sanquin, -Duellist.’ He’s placed his press work in my hands, and I’ve been looking -for an introduction to you, Captain, for over a week! I can put up a -proposition to net you a pile!” - -“Indeed!” said O’Hagan, icily. - -(“Such people as Dewson,” he has confided to me, “are calculated to -bring disgrace upon a national character. He was the type of man who -would have sought an audience with His Holiness the Pope, and ‘put up a -proposition’ to boom St. Peter’s.”) - -“My client, as you’ll know,” continued the irrepressible press agent, -“is top-hole as a swordsman. Took out the team a year ago that beat the -Frenchmen.” - -Captain O’Hagan stared. - -“They tell me _you’re_ pretty handy,” resumed Dewson; “so here’s the -goods in a nutshell: I’ll send down a shorthand-typist to your chambers -to take a few notes; put a sound man to work; and in a week or a -fortnight ‘My Affaires of Honour and Gallantry, by Captain the Hon. -Bernard O’Hagan,’ will be in the press! I can promise you an _advance_ -of £500, my dear sir! Meanwhile, you insult Brandon, and meet him with -rapiers on the French coast—press, cinema men, etc., in attendance. Out -comes ‘Jules Sanquin, Duellist’—five editions subscribed. Out comes ‘My -Affaires of Honour and Gallantry’—libraries gasping! How d’you like the -title? _Affaires_—see? French. Get the literary flavour right on the -cover! How d’you like the proposition?” - -The intolerant grey eye scrutinized the brogues upon Mr. Dewson’s feet -and rose by gradations to the Stetson felt adorning the apex of his -commercial brain. - -“Is this delightful scheme a child of your own fecundity, Mr. Dewson, or -has Mr. Ronald Brandon any share in its parentage?” - -“I’m out raising no man’s laurel wreaths,” declared Dewson. “The -proposition’s Brandon’s. How does it appeal to you? - -“That portion of the ‘proposition,’” said O’Hagan, with frigid courtesy, -“which has reference to a meeting on the French coast appeals to me -keenly!” - - ————— - - - II. - LA BELLE LOTUS. - -Those of you who have the privilege to be acquainted with my friend -Bernard O’Hagan will find much scope for wonderment in the circumstance -that Mr. Dewson proceeded thus far and survived, intact. No one but a -successful press agent could possibly have mistaken the significance of -the Captain’s icy calm. Anyone who, knowing him, had adventured upon -such a proposal, must have been aware that, so doing, he carried his -life in his hand. Mr. Dewson remained placidly ignorant of the fires -which he was coaling. - -“Will you come along now to Brandon’s flat?” he suggested, in his brisk -way. - -“It will afford me great pleasure. I am most anxious to meet Mr. -Brandon!” - -Passing over the short journey, then—throughout which almost every word -of Mr. Dewson’s inspired O’Hagan with a new wonder at the shamelessness -of the times, and added fuel to his resentment—enter the house of -Ronald Brandon, novelist. - -“Here he is, Brandon!” cried the press agent. “He’s coming in on it!” - -Ronald Brandon was a tall and good-looking young man, carrying a certain -athletic arrogance with poor grace. From his perfectly groomed fair hair -to his white spatted, immaculately glossy boots he was an incarnate -error of judgment. He had been encouraged to think himself a -celebrity—and the whole thing was a mistake. He was not even in the -same flight with the double of Napoleon III. - -His casually extended hand Captain O’Hagan failed to observe. O’Hagan -bowed with exceeding fine formality. - -“Going to have a little bout with me, Captain?” laughed Brandon lightly. - -“I am looking forward to it,” was the reply, “provided your status -admits of my crossing swords with you.” - -Dewson and Brandon stared uncomprehendingly. - -“I mean, are you of gentle blood? To what Brandons do you belong?” - -The novelist continued to stare. - -“My governor is James Brandon, K.C., if that’s what you’re driving at!” - -“Professional people?” said O’Hagan with exquisite condescension. “Never -mind. For our present purpose, sufficiently respectable.” - -What the now incensed Brandon might have said to that will never be -known, for he was interrupted by the ringing of the bell, by the almost -immediate entrance of a loudly pretty woman who was furiously -overdressed, who struck the vision a sharp blow, from which one’s -outraged eyes blinkingly recoiled. She was arrayed in a long coat of -leopard’s skin, wore a motor bonnet of the same material, from the left -side whereof, rearward, swept a golden plume of incredible length. Her -hair was of the hue sometimes called Titian, but would have made Titian -weep blood. - -This lady—who proved to be French—was introduced as La Belle Lotus. - -“Another client of mine, Captain!” explained Dewson, affably anxious to -dissipate the thundery atmosphere which had settled upon the -establishment. Brandon was scowling ferociously. “She is the latest -sensation in dancers, sir. Her ‘Dance of Delilah’ is the talk of London! -This is the lady you’ll quarrel about. Savvy? Three birds with one -stone! All town will rush to see the girl two big men have fought over. -Up go her bookings! How’s that for a three-handed boost? The limit?” - -O’Hagan raised his glass. - -“It strikes me as being appreciably beyond the limit!” he drawled. “But -what has led you to suppose that I am desirous of publishing my -memoirs?” - -“You’re not out throwing away thousands, I take it?” - -“On the contrary, Mr. Dewson. But, emphatically, I shall not publish any -kind of book. You may omit that item from your ‘proposition.’” - -La Belle surveyed the speaker appreciatively. Brandon watched him in -angry perplexity. Dewson’s round eyes grew rounder. - -“You don’t mean to say——” - -“I have no intention of disturbing your admirable arrangements, Mr. -Dewson. You may rely upon me to meet Mr. Brandon.” - -“But ‘My Affaires’”—— - -“Dismiss the idea. It is out of the question.” - -“Then what are you doing it for?” - -O’Hagan, having examined minutely the visible attractions of La Belle -Lotus—so minutely as to make her blush—dropped his glass. - -“Your proposal is of such a nature, sir,” he replied calmly, “that no -gentleman could decline to accept it.” - -“I want to know how we stand,” burst in Brandon, his choler enhanced by -the evident inability of the lady to withstand O’Hagan’s frank gaze. -“Are you——” - -“Am I going to meet you on the French coast, sir?” O’Hagan anticipated. -“Emphatically, yes! Rely upon me!” - -“That’s good,” rapped Dewson. “We’ll talk about the book, later. When -you see eye to eye with me you won’t want to drop it. But you’re game -for the little passage of arms? That’s the talk! Well, talking’s dry -work. What about——” - -“Excuse me.” O’Hagan raised his hand. “Pray excuse me!” - -“But we’ve made no arrangements.” - -“I am listening, Mr. Dewson.” - -Dewson felt that he was being hustled. - -“Well, I’d planned it to start on Wednesday night. Brandon and -Yvette—La Belle—are having supper at Varano’s. I’m there, too; but not -at the same table. Press boys there, of course. You blow in, and say or -do something which Brandon’s supposed to take as an insult.” - -O’Hagan, his head attentively tilted, nodded. La Belle was watching him, -now, fascinatedly. - -“I shall observe your wishes implicitly, Mr. Dewson!” - -“Bit of a scene. Cards exchanged. Pars in the press.” - -“A proviso, sir. My name shall not be mentioned.” - -“Not mentioned!” - -“Let all the credit be Mr. Brandon’s. I remain anonymous.” - -“It’s sure to come out later. I don’t understand——” - -“I am aware of that, Mr. Dewson! On the following morning, if I do not -mistake you, Mr. Brandon’s friends call upon me, and the meeting is -arranged?” - -“That’s it! We’re supposed to be hushing it up, see? But it kind of -leaks out!” - -“Precisely. At what hour will Mr. Brandon be supping?” - -“Say half-past eleven.” - -“It is an appointment.” - -Captain O’Hagan bowed to the leopard lady, looking challengingly into -her eyes—turned from Messrs. Brandon and Dewson, and walked to the -door. Upon Brandon’s tongue unutterable things trembled. Mr. Dewson was -not entirely at his ease. - - ————— - - - III. - THE BOOM. - -Captain O’Hagan entered Varano’s at half-past eleven on Wednesday -evening. No more need be said. A sensation amongst the guests is -understood. - -For a moment he paused, glass raised. His pose was a poem in grace; his -mode of surveying those who supped was a tribute so deliciously keen as -almost to be insulting. He focussed the table whereat Ronald Brandon and -the dancer were seated. Amid a cathedral silence, impressive and -oppressive, he traversed the supper-room. To say that he crossed it -would be inaccurate and inadequate; he traversed it. - -“Sir!”—he bent over Brandon—“one moment. Mademoiselle!”—he smiled -upon La Belle Yvette—“might I entreat you to step aside with me?” - -She glanced at Brandon, flushing with excitement now that the moment of -the “boom” was come. Brandon, who vainly had besought Dewson to recast -the comedy—omitting O’Hagan—examined his finger nails. He was acting -poorly. In fact he was pronouncedly “fluffy.” - -La Belle rose and stepped aside with O’Hagan. She wore an amazingly -daring and dazzlingly brilliant evening toilette; a tight-fitting silk -gown coloured in imitation of a leopard’s skin. Dewson identified his -clients with certain “make-ups” or trademarks. Thus, La Belle Lotus was -“the leopard lady.” - -Imagine every eye in Varano’s supper-room to be centred upon this wildly -picturesque pair. O’Hagan, his cloak cast back in purple splendour, -rested one hand upon his hip with a gesture which had not been -inconsistent with the act of depressing a rapier hilt. - -“Are you quite sure”—he bent towards her with inimitable -gallantry—“that a scene here will enhance your professional -reputation?” - -She glanced up rapidly—and down again, shyly. She could not recall -having feared to meet any man’s eye prior to encountering Captain -O’Hagan. - -“Mr. Dewson—he says so; and Mr. Dewson is so clever. He never makes -mistakes.” - -“I concede that Mr. Dewson is clever; but nevertheless he makes -mistakes, mademoiselle. I am impartial. I can insult Mr. Brandon without -involving you in any way. But, if you wish to be involved, command me.” - -La Belle felt singularly helpless. Instinctively she divined that the -forceful Mr. Dewson and the imperious Captain O’Hagan were advancing to -no common end. - -“It is better that we keep to Mr. Dewson’s arrangements, I think.” - -“Very well.” - -O’Hagan proffered his arm. He led her doorward. A sibilant chorus of -gasps arose. Brandon was up, now. His face flushed deeply, and paled, -vying in its pallor with the serviette which he crushed in one shaking -hand. He thrust back his chair. - -A staccato cough drew his gaze to a distant table. Mr. -Dewson—conscientious stage-manager—feared that one of the cast was -like to overact his rôle. Brandon hesitated, fuming. - -La Belle Yvette knew a fearful joy. Her inordinate vanity was gratified -by this scene, but even her great daring recoiled from that which -pended. Yet she offered no real resistance. True, she placed her hand -upon O’Hagan’s, but he calmly clasped it in his own. - -“Act as I direct,” he said, bending his picturesque head and looking -into the half-fearful eyes. - -He glanced aside to where the head-waiter stood, a figure of pitiable -indecision, a study in fatuous ineptitude. - -“My man—this lady’s cloak.” - -Upon the hushed silence of the supper-room the words rang out sharply. - -The head-waiter hesitated. The head-waiter at Varano’s is a person of -proper proportions and seemly dignity. It is no part of his important -functions menially to run for hats and cloaks. O’Hagan’s unoccupied hand -raised the glass. - -“Were you aware that I gave you an order?” - -The head-waiter became aware of the awesome fact. He departed. - -Brandon’s chair fell backward. A wine-glass was dropped with a crash -upon the floor beside Mr. Dewson’s table. But the prompting of the -ingenious press agent now was unheeded. The novelist strode down the -room. One or two of the male visitors half rose. Some of the women began -to look frightened. - -“Damn your impudence! Release that lady!” - -Dewson slipped from his place and joined the interesting group. He -placed his hand warningly upon Brandon’s shoulder. - -“Don’t lose your wool!” he whispered. “It’s going great!” - -Brandon shook him off. - -“Do you hear me? Release that lady! Yvette! stand aside, I beg of you! I -have something to say to this person!” - -La Belle looked from face to face. All was not well here. Only Captain -O’Hagan seemed at ease: he should be the star of her guidance! - -The head-waiter returning, the Captain assisted mademoiselle to endue -her leopard-skin cloak. - -Brandon’s fists clenched and re-opened convulsively. - -“Yvette!” He almost choked. “You are not going _away_?—not going to -leave me here—a laughing-stock——” - -“Mr. Ronald Brandon!” O’Hagan placed his arm protectingly about -mademoiselle’s shoulders and stared through the monocle at the -novelist’s pale face. “I do not approve of this lady’s being in your -company!” - -Brandon fell back (O’Hagan’s divine audacity can strike as a physical -blow) into the arms of Mr. Dewson. - -“Stick to your part!” hissed the latter in his ear; and held him firmly. -“This is a treat! All the restaurant heard what he said! Heard your -name, too!” - -“Curse you! Let go!” - -The veins swelled upon Brandon’s forehead; his eyes protruded. - -Captain O’Hagan, serenely: - -“Come, mademoiselle! This vulgar brawler is no fit companion for us!” - -Half the guests were upon their feet now. Someone had gone for the -manager. The horror-frozen head-waiter met the Gorgon gaze which -hypnotically sought him through the pebble. He turned and swung wide the -door. - -Brandon made a savage leap. Dewson grabbed his coat tails. - -Mademoiselle, trembling slightly, having quitted the room, O’Hagan -turned, and tossed his card at Brandon’s feet. - -“You may care further to discuss the matter at some future time,” he -said coldly. “I am otherwise engaged this evening!” - -Brandon broke loose at that, but collided with the head-waiter, who -began to feel faint. A tremendous buzz of conversation arose. Above it -sounded the shrill note of a whistle. O’Hagan, without, had ordered a -taxi. Then someone laughed—a pressman there for the “story.” - -The novelist whisked around upon the detaining Mr. Dewson. - -“Curse you and your ‘boosts’!” he snarled. “You’ve made me the -laughing-stock of London! I’ll kill that damned O’Hagan!” - -“Good business!” said the press agent. “Do it. Double our sales!” - - ————— - - - IV. - ECHOES OF THE BOOM. - -O’Hagan called upon me. His entrances possess electric properties. One’s -schemes melt; O’Hagan becomes the scheme of all things terrestrial. The -future shrinks, bounded by O’Hagan. The universe is “a universe after -Captain the Hon. Bernard O’Hagan.” An unexpected call by the Tsar of all -the Russias could not be more exciting, and one would be less impressed -if the Mikado dropped in for a pipe and a Scotch-and-soda. - -“I have selected you, Raymond”—he toyed with his monocle—“to act for -me in a little affair on the French coast. You will be associated with -Lieutenant the Chevalier Camille d’Oysans.” - -That was bad hearing. - -The Chevalier, according to O’Hagan, is “the last of the _grand -seigneurs_.” I think O’Hagan may be right; and trust he is. This -fire-eating Frenchman in my opinion constitutes a menace to society. He -would any day rather cut a man’s throat than shake hands with him. - -(His recent decoration for having personally dispatched a larger number -of Boches than any other man in the armies of France, will be a memory -fresh in my reader’s mind.) - -“And I do not expect you to withdraw, Raymond,”—coldly. - -Since, on more than one recent occasion, I had been so unfortunate as to -incur O’Hagan’s displeasure, I perceived that a path was cut for my -feet—a path of peril, from which, nevertheless, I might not stray. I -understand that Charles II., when it pleased him, could be a king -indeed. The fact that O’Hagan inherits a similar capacity from someone -or another is not necessarily destructive of what posthumous reputation -remains to the lady of his race who ornamented the Stuart court. - -He passed to me a press cutting. The paragraph related how an anonymous -gentleman had had a public misunderstanding with Mr. Ronald Brandon, the -famous author, whose forthcoming work, etc., etc. The misunderstanding -had been due to the presence of La Belle Yvette Lotus, the beautiful -dancer, etc., etc. - -“D’Oysans has already arranged the preliminaries,” explained O’Hagan. -“So all that you have to do, my boy, is to meet me at Victoria to-night -at ten-thirty.” - -“This is incredible!” - -“Not at all.” - -“We shall all stand to be arrested!” - -“Never fear. These little affairs are better managed in France!” - -“For heaven’s sake, what weapons?” - -“Swords!” - -“In what way are you interested in this girl?” - -“In no way. Not in the slightest.” - -O’Hagan stood up and gracefully executed the Grand Salute with his cane. - -“I badly need a little practice,” he said. “That is all, Raymond!” - -“This man, Ronald Brandon, has some reputation as a swordsman.” - -“So I hear,” replied O’Hagan languidly. “He has grossly insulted me; so -that I am quite looking forward to meeting him. Although he merely comes -of a race of attorneys, he appears to have a fine reach.” - -He yawned slightly. There came a ringing of my door bell, which I -proceeded to investigate. - -“Might I inquire who the blazes your distinguished visitor is?” - -Thus O’Hagan, critically examining a very large size in formidable -ruffians who had forced his way past me into the study. - -“Which of you is O’Hagan?” demanded the caller, truculently. - -He was a man fully six feet two in his boots; wore a peculiarly racy -tweed suit, cut morning-coat fashion; a pink soft collar, and a green -tie adorned with a big diamond. He was bullet-headed, close shaven, and -rejoiced in a prominent jaw of marine blue. He threw a soft hat into a -corner and addressed a ferocious glare to each of us in turn. - -“You have a broken nose,” said the Captain, with icy distaste. - -“That’s done it! You’re ’im!” proclaimed the visitor. “An’ you’ll ’ave a -broken neck in ’alf a mo!” - -He stripped off his coat and hurled it amongst the litter of my -writing-table. He removed the diamond and placed it in his waistcoat -pocket. He tore his collar from his ox-like neck and cast it on the -carpet. He began to unbutton his vest. - -“This is not a public bath,” said O’Hagan, observing these manœuvres -through his monocle. “You can have a wash for twopence at the lower end -of Langham Place.” - -The other proceeded stolidly with his immodest toilet, divesting himself -of his waistcoat and rolling up his sleeves over his hirsute, brawny -arms. No reply he made; he was a man too full for words. - -O’Hagan rose from the Chesterfield which is his favourite lounge and -stretched himself languidly. He poked the fire and left the poker -between the bars. - -“Raymond,” he drawled, “shall I go and find a constable to throw this -low dog down stairs?” - -The man leapt to the door with extraordinary agility, locked it, and -slipped the key into a back pocket of his trousers. He faced us, a -formidable figure, stripped to the pink shirt, which revealed the -enormous development of his pectoral muscles. O’Hagan moves amid -singular proceedings. - -“Now, my bonny gentleman! My name’s ‘Trooper’ Belcher—an’ I’m ’er -husband!” - -“I trust you refer to Mrs. Belcher?”—O’Hagan. - -Belcher: “My wife’s La Belle Lotus!” - -The Captain studied Mr. Belcher with a new curiosity. - -“I gather that you are a music-hall pugilist. Am I also to conclude that -you are a bully acting on behalf of Mr. Brandon, whom I have to meet at -seven in the morning outside Calais?” - -“_I_ met Mr. bloomin’ Brandon at seven this evenin’ outside Oxford -Circus!” shouted Belcher. “_You’ll_ meet ’im in Middlesex ’Ospital!” - -My wits had deserted me. From the moment that the man had thrust his way -into my rooms up to that when he had thus proclaimed himself the -assailant of Brandon, I had stood helplessly watching his outrageous -proceedings. - -(“A gentleman, to-day,” O’Hagan has informed me, “is utterly at the -mercy of the first lusty ruffian who cares to attack him. The only -offensive and defensive art which survives to any extent—brutal -pugilism—is extensively practised among the lower classes. Where is the -gentleman’s sword? Taken from him! The Higher Jiu-jitsu, my dear -Raymond, or Art of Gentle Thought, should be included in the curriculum -of every preparatory establishment.”) - -Belcher executed a charge which, I think, would have swept a healthy -bullock from its feet. O’Hagan, with a lightning rapidity of action -apparently peculiar to pupils of Shashu Myuku of Nagasaki, secured and -presented the poker. - -The man touched it with one huge fist and recoiled, screaming hoarsely. - -“By God! that’s ’ot!” he panted. - -“It is,” replied O’Hagan, again thrusting the point amid the coals; “red -hot!” With his left hand he waved his monocle in my direction. “One -cannot soil one’s hands with the persons of low fellows, Raymond!” - -Belcher snatched up a heavy chair as though it had had no greater weight -than a matchbox. A lightning, rapier lunge with the poker—an unpleasant -_sizzling_ sound—and the chair crashed harmlessly to the floor. The now -painfully singed “trooper” fell back on to the Chesterfield, groaning. - -Again my bell rang. - -“Hand the key to Mr. Raymond, my man,” ordered O’Hagan; “and replace -your filthy rags upon your indecently nude person.” - -Belcher threw the key across the carpet. My mind had assimilated a -profound truth of the Higher Jiu-Jitsu: brute courage falters in the -presence of hot pokers. I went to the door, and upon the landing stood a -dazzling vision in leopard skins. - -“My ’usband!” (The vision had a French accent.) “Is he here? Yes? -Quick!” - -She slipped past me, as an animal growl sounded from within. My rooms no -longer were my own, but were become a rendezvous for insane -meetings—for nightmare encounters. I re-entered the bear-garden which I -had been wont to call my study. - -The leopard lady was kneeling beside the wounded Mr. Belcher and -explaining in voluble syncopated English that his suspicions were -groundless, that it was a “boom,” no more; that he must _not_ kill -Captain O’Hagan. - -“My impression, Raymond,” said the latter, focussing me across the room, -“is that our friend Belcher has recently left jail.” - -“What if I ’ave!” roared that maltreated ruffian, starting to his feet. - -“This,” replied O’Hagan with suppressed ferocity, “that if you are -present in another minute I shall send you back again! _Madame!_”—he -bowed to La Belle—“kindly remove your property from my friend’s -apartment—I would suggest that you deposit it in cold storage—and -permit me to say that I had credited you with nicer taste!” - -He placed a cigarette between his lips, igniting it with the now -white-hot poker. - - ————— - - - V. - BELCHER THE THOROUGH. - -“It is singularly illustrative of the obscure psychology of the lower -orders,” said Bernard O’Hagan, “this marrying habit of Continental -music-hall artistes. The female of the species may drive, take supper, -and accept diamonds from men of pedigree; but she always marries a -prize-fighter or a bookmaker. It is a process of natural selection, -Raymond. When out of the proceeds of a successful professional career -she invests in a husband, she ‘backs her fancy.’ I have known Spanish -dancers who were adored by reigning monarchs to have unsavoury husbands -concealed in all sorts of filthy alleys; and one lady circus rider to -whom I was presented in Budapest proved to be lawfully wedded to a -retired Paris sewerman. Zoologically, the habit has interest.” - -Our inquiries at the hospital discovered Mr. Brandon to be on the danger -list. - -“The most promising meeting since I encountered Baron Verneux,” murmured -O’Hagan, “indefinitely postponed! The Chevalier Camille d’Oysans will be -keenly disappointed. He had made all the necessary arrangements for -flying the country!” - -We learned that the police were in quest of Mr. Brandon’s assailant. A -call at Mr. Alex. Dewson’s hotel provided a surprise. - -“I shall not chastise him,” explained my friend. “The depths of his -ignorance are pathetic. But I feel it to be my duty to tell him that he -is a disgrace to the great nation which includes in its roll of honour -the name of Edmond O’Hagan.” - -Mr. Dewson could receive no visitors. Captain O’Hagan swept the servant -aside and waved to me to follow. It needs something more than a verbal -rebuff to exclude O’Hagan—something in the nature of a double-barred -iron door or a squad with fixed bayonets. - -My friend honoured Mr. Dewson’s apartment. And Mr. Dewson, a heavily -bandaged figure hunched up in an armchair by the fire, observed our -intrusion with his one visible eye. - -“Raymond,” said O’Hagan, as he focussed this crippled apparition, “the -‘Trooper’ has forestalled us again!” - -“You bet he has, Captain!” whispered a weak voice. - -O’Hagan turned to me. - -“In the thoroughness of Mr. Belcher’s method,” he said, “I find -something almost admirable, Raymond! The ‘Trooper’ is a loss to the -service.” - -That he was a loss which speeding Time should rectify, we, being but -human, could not foresee. But is it not history how Sergeant Belcher, at -a spot not a hundred miles from Ypres, acquired the most coveted -distinction in the gift of His Britannic Majesty for rescuing a badly -wounded officer under heavy fire? And is it not written in deathless -annals that the name of that gallant officer was Captain the Hon. -Bernard O’Hagan, V.C., D.S.O.? - - - - - EXPLOIT THE FOURTH. - - HE BURIES AN OLD LOVE. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE FOURTH. - HE BURIES AN OLD LOVE. - - - I. - THE LONELY LADY. - -That class distinctions are invidious, that one man is as good as -another, are theorems which find no place in O’Hagan’s philosophy. His -whole life is a protest against such propositions. He complains that -there is no badge peculiar to the gentleman; that the latest -morning-coat from Savile Row is colourably imitated, and within a week, -by Rye Lane, Peckham. Hence, I take it, his broad, black ribbon with the -dependent monocle, his purple-lined cloak. - -These things are not imitated, and for a simple reason. O’Hagan’s cloak -makes no appeal to Peckham, and leaves even Hampstead cold. - -O’Hagan holds that to tolerate scurrility from the lower classes is to -encourage rebellion, and maintains that the French Revolution was -brought about, not by the vices of the nobility, but by its weakness. - -“Spare the axe and spoil the people,” he says. - -Upon the necessity for a sort of patrician purple, distinctive of the -gentleman, he is insistent, and the episode illustrative of this which -he is fond of citing is that of the lonely lady of the Strand. - -Captain O’Hagan, then, one evening, was swinging westward along that -thoroughfare, hatless, as usual, in evening dress, with his purple-lined -cloak flying. Idle curiosity induced him to stroll down that narrow, -sloping way which terminates in dungeonesque darkness and arches, but -which leads one to the stage-door of the Novelty Theatre. At the end of -the passage upon which the stage-door opens there may sometimes be found -sundry loafers. The inexperienced might assume these to be connected -with the Novelty establishment, but would err in so doing. They are -connected with a much older establishment; the ancient order of -Mouchers. - -As O’Hagan came abreast of this place, the sole representative of the -ancient order on duty that evening, with a headshake, an upward and a -downward glance, and an evil smile, dismissed the inquiry of a young -lady who, timidly, had addressed him, and hastened to meet a party of -three American comedians as they descended from their car. - -The lady, who was quite young, and simply dressed in a dark walking -habit, flushed with mortification, and then became very pale as she -turned away. - -O’Hagan’s blood boiled within his veins. It is such a simple, everyday -incident as this which renders him really terrible. He hastened after -the lady, who was walking slowly in the direction of Charing Cross, and -touched her gently upon the arm. - -“Madame—your pardon!” - -She turned, startled. - -“That fellow at the stage-door was rude to you. I beg, as a favour, that -you will grant me permission to reprimand him.” - -The lady, unmistakably, was displeased. She was dark, and, as O’Hagan -observed with aesthetic appreciation, of a delicately aristocratic -beauty. - -“You are mistaken. Pray do not trouble.” - -(“How,” O’Hagan will ask, “could she be expected to know that a stranger -addressing her in the Strand was one in whose discretion she might -safely confide? To permit any boor to endue a dress suit is to kill -chivalry.”) - -“Madame, I beg that you will not misjudge me. I am not mistaken, neither -in my surmise nor as to my plain duty. I do not know your name, nor seek -to learn it. Mine is Captain O’Hagan. And had you been a flower-seller I -should as staunchly have disputed my right to protect you from insult as -I do knowing you to be of my own rank.” - -She was bewildered. My friend is essentially bewildering. He is not a -person whom any man or any woman can hope to snub—to overlook. He comes -into one’s life, a tangible proposition, which cannot be ignored; which, -unavoidably, must be _dealt with_. - -“I do not know you, sir. I really cannot stand here conversing with a -perfect stranger.” Then, with a little, half-doubting glance up to the -fine eyes: “Are you one of the O’Hagans of Dunnamore?” - -O’Hagan bowed as no other man, though you search the courts of Europe, -can bow. - -“Then, Captain O’Hagan, since you are a gentleman, please forget about -the door-porter. Believe me, I have troubles enough without seeking new -ones.” - -There was pathos in the words, in her low, quivering voice. - -“I cannot doubt it. And, since you know my family, you may know that its -name stands stainless for seven generations. You should not be here, at -this hour, alone. In the absence of a father, of a brother, accept my -escort. It is in no way encumbent upon you to accept my friendship, -though it would be devoted and disinterested.” - -She was biting her lip now, in pathetic perplexity; but there was a new -confidence in the glance which she gave him. It was the glance of a -woman who sorely lacked a friend, and into whose heart the conviction -was stealing that heaven had sent her one. - -“You are more than kind, Captain O’Hagan.” Now she met his eyes frankly. -Her decision was made. “I am—Lady Brian Dillon.” - -(“You see, Raymond,” he has since explained to me, “there was more than -mere chance in my unaccountable decision to explore that passage. Fate, -my boy—fate!”) - -He took the gloved hand which she offered with a pretty embarrassment, -and bent over it in his unique, courtier fashion. - -“I have never met your husband, Lady Dillon. But his late father, Sir -John, was one of my dearest friends. I regard you, now, as that dear -friend’s daughter, and since Fate has brought us both here to-night, I -regard your interests as a sacred charge. You are in trouble. How can I -serve you?” - - ————— - - - II. - AT THE STAGE DOOR. - -I doubt if London could furnish another man—a father confessor -excepted—who, in so brief a time, could have learnt from the young Lady -Dillon so much of her history as did O’Hagan. Side by side, they paced -up and down a comparatively quiet street dipping riverward, and the girl -(for she was no more) confided in this man, whom, twenty minutes -earlier, she had not known. - -Does not that argue eloquently for my friend? Does it not make amends -for much that seems harsh in his nature? For although, alas! women often -are deceived in men, a woman’s instincts can never err in such case as -this; a true woman, as this one, never pours out the trouble with which -her heart is bursting, to a knave—to a blackguard. I defy you to -confute me. Be it remembered that, by a trick of Fate—or shall we say -Providence?—these two had friends in common. Nor be it forgot that, for -fifty miles north, south, east and west of Dunnamore, “the honour of an -O’Hagan” is a form of oath. But, nevertheless, I maintain that there is -something grandly and expansively human—something splendid and true—in -the nature of a man whom at such brief acquaintance a good woman _knows_ -to be worthy of her confidence. Don’t you agree with me? - -“Of course I remember your wedding!” said O’Hagan. “Bless my soul! you -were a Miss Sheila Cavanagh! As a child you must have been at Dunnamore -many a time! Why! we are quite old friends! You are not married three -months, yet?” - -“Ten weeks,” replied Lady Dillon, pathetically. - -“And simply because your husband, Sir Brian, saw you walking in St. -James’s Park with a gentleman——” - -“He has not spoken to me—for four days!”—brokenly. - -“And now he is waiting on the stage of the Novelty for a Miss Betty -Chatterton, late of the Folly Theatre, whom formerly he admired——” - -“—He used to go about with her a lot, I know!” - -“And this gentleman with whom you were walking?” - -Lady Dillon looked away. - -“Ah,” said O’Hagan sadly, “you have been indiscreet. He was an old -admirer?” (nod). “Persistent, unscrupulous?” (nod)—“and you were -sending this fellow about his business?” - -She looked up to him as, of old, looked Menippus Lycius to Apollonius of -Tyana; as to one omniscient—yet, crowning wonder, as to a favourite -brother. Such is the timbre of my friend’s exquisite sympathy. Is it not -a divine gift? - -“How can you possibly know that?” - -“My dear Lady Dillon—you have told me! Does your husband know this -person?” - -“He knows _of_ him. But he has never even asked me his name. I thought -he understood that I did not care and never had cared for the man. Oh! -why did I see him? Why did I see him? But I feared that, unless I -definitely dismissed him, he would compromise me!” - -“My poor child!” He patted her arm, soothingly. There are phases of his -patronage which are healing. One absorbs his condescension gratefully, -as a penitent receiving absolution from a holy cardinal. “You see, your -marriage was a family arrangement, and your husband is uncertain of your -affections. This regrettable incident has convinced him—wrongly—that -from your point of view it is merely a _mariage de convenance_. His -flirtation is a harmless one. He is, I dare swear, eating his heart out! -But the pride of the Dillons has him by the throat. My dear little -lady—leave him to me!” - -She looked up to him wonderingly again; but, with something of the -touching confidence of a child, permitted him to conduct her Strandward. - -“Captain O’Hagan! I could never, never explain to him! That is why I -dare not speak! He would _never_ forgive me for seeing him again—would -never understand——” - -“Leave it entirely in my hands! _I_ will do the explaining! Simply -accept my explanation, and decline in any way to enlarge upon it. You -shall not be compromised, because I know you do not deserve it. Neither -shall that hare-brained husband of yours compromise another girl out of -mere _pique_.” - -She said nothing to that. In the Strand, opposite the Novelty: - -“That is your car yonder?” asked O’Hagan. - -“Oh! don’t let Priestman see me!” cried Lady Dillon. “I was afraid he -would see me when I spoke to that wretch at the door!” - -“You are perfectly certain that your husband is in the theatre?” - -“Yes! yes! I don’t know why I asked that man! But, indeed, I don’t know -what possessed me at all! Oh! Captain O’Hagan, I am so miserable!” - -“Boy!” said O’Hagan to a passing urchin—“tell the chauffeur of the -Rolls Royce yonder, to pull around here!” - -Off ran the boy. - -“But——” began Lady Dillon. - -O’Hagan patted her arm. The chauffeur, having received the boy’s -message, could be seen looking in their direction. Presently he walked -across to where they stood. Recognising Lady Dillon, he stared; then -touched his cap. - -“I ordered you to bring the car over,” said O’Hagan, icily. - -“Sir Brian”——began the man. - -“Did you understand my words?” - -The chauffeur ran back, and in a few moments the big car was drawn up to -the kerb. O’Hagan placed Lady Dillon comfortably in a cushioned corner. - -“Good-night, dear Lady Dillon,” he said. “I will bring Brian home to you -very shortly!” - -Her wondering, tearful eyes never left his face. To the now deferential -though badly embarrassed man: - -“Home!” said O’Hagan. - -Off moved the smoothly-running car. Whilst she could see him where he -stood, Lady Dillon never took her eyes from the tall, cloaked figure of -this old friend of old friends and one so newly found, of this -astonishing Samaritan who had promised to restore to her the gladness of -life. With picturesque head bowed he waited until the Rolls Royce was -lost from view, one gloved hand resting upon the heavy ebony cane, the -other, ungloved, dangling from two long fingers the monocle dependent on -its black silk ribbon. - -It is a never-ending source of regret to me that we have no Velasquez -to-day. Captain the Hon. Bernard O’Hagan would inspire such an one to a -great masterpiece. - -My friend returned to the narrow alley-way, descended it, and stood -before the unofficial deputy for the baggage-man, whose treatment of -Lady Dillon had occasioned his just resentment. In his dealings with -such as this, O’Hagan can be terrible. To him he addressed no word. - -Dropping his monocle, he seized the fellow by the ear (with his gloved -hand) and dragged the agonised face closely to his own haughty -countenance. The feat was seemingly performed effortless—such is the -outstanding wonder of that Judo, or Higher Jiu-jitsu, whereof Shashu -Myuku of Nagasaki is the Grand Master. There are not six Europeans, -O’Hagan will tell you, who have been initiated into the occultry of the -Japanese super-force. - -“You recently insulted a lady who inquired if Sir Brian Dillon had -entered the stage-door. Down on your knees, you sot—and beg for -pardon!” - -Obedient to a power which, seemingly entering at the ear, proceeded -thence through every tortured nerve of his person, rendering him -helpless, inert, down dropped the big, hulking figure. It chanced that -none was there to see. Yet the exhibition was an odd one. - -“Repeat, after me, ‘I humbly beg, sir——’” - -“Police!” gasped the man, and strove to get at O’Hagan with his hands. - -Abruptly he dropped them; his big face grew livid. The Captain, holding -the ear in that vice-grip, had merely turned it slightly backward. The -man groaned; beads of perspiration started on his brow. - -“Repeat, after me, ‘I humbly beg, sir, for the lady’s pardon.’” - -Faintly: - -“I humbly . . . beg, sir . . . for . . . my Gawd! . . . the lidy’s -pardon!” - -“And abjectly entreat you to forgive me!” - -“And . . . abjec . . . abjec’y entreat . . . you to forgive . . . me!” - -“Get up!” - -The victim struggled erect. He met the quelling gaze. - -“Any repetition of the offence means that my man will wait upon you—and -bring a horse-whip!” - -The fellow scrambled aside, and raised a quivering hand to his forehead. -Captain O’Hagan, swinging his monocle, strode to the stage-door. - - ————— - - - III. - IN THE DRESSING-ROOM. - -To the stage door-keeper said O’Hagan: - -“Has Miss Chatterton appeared yet?” - -“She has, sir.” - -“Is she in her dressing-room?” - -“I believe so, sir.” - -“Has she a private dressing-room?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“Is she dressed, yet?” - -“She must be, sir. She finished over half-an-hour ago, and a gentleman -went up some time since.” - -“What number is her room?” - -“It’s Number Six, sir, but——” - -Captain O’Hagan placed half-a-crown upon the window-ledge and stepped -along the passage. - -“Excuse me, sir!” The man came running from his box. - -O’Hagan turned, glass raised. - -“You wished to speak to me?” - -“Thank you very much, sir, but I must take your card through first, -or——” - -“My name is Captain O’Hagan. I have business with Miss Chatterton.” He -proceeded, unruffled. - -“You’ll get me into trouble, sir——” - -O’Hagan, over his shoulder: - -“I esteem your regard for duty, my man. Rely upon me.” - -He was gone. The door-keeper scratched his head. - -Ascending a flight of stone steps, the Captain came to a landing, a door -opening upon it. The door was ajar and bore no number, but voices might -be heard proceeding from the room beyond. O’Hagan rapped, and opened the -door. - -Several gentlemen, in several stages of undress, all looked up from -their several toilettes. - -“I fear I intrude,” said O’Hagan, holding his monocle before his right -eye and examining the occupants of the apartment with a kind of genial -curiosity. “I wish to find room number six.” - -“Next floor, second door,” volunteered a young man in underwear. - -“I am indebted.” - -O’Hagan withdrew and proceeded upstairs. Room six showed a closed door. -O’Hagan knocked. - -“Who’s there?” inquired a masculine voice. - -O’Hagan entered. - -A golden-headed lady, who was arranging a rare exotic in hats upon her -elaborate coiffure, fixed wondering eyes upon the intruder. A maid -glanced up from where she knelt beside a large basket; and a -dark-haired, perfectly groomed young man, of military bearing, rose -hurriedly from his seat upon a second and even larger basket. - -Captain O’Hagan bowed. - -“Miss Chatterton, your pardon. Sir Brian Dillon, I presume? Might I ask -you, my good girl”—to the staring maid—“to withdraw.” - -He held the door open. - -“Here, I say!” burst out Miss Chatterton. “Who are you? What’s it all -about——” - -“I am Captain O’Hagan. I have a family matter to discuss with Sir Brian; -and I wish you, Miss Chatterton, to be present.” - -He waved his monocle towards the maid, and then in the direction of the -open door. The girl stood up, looked at her mistress, but saw her to be -as helpless as herself; looked at the forceful new arrival, and slowly -went out. O’Hagan closed the door. Two pairs of wondering eyes followed -his every movement. My friend has a singular quality of personality. I -believe he could so enter the House of Lords as to visit consternation -upon every peer present, and to set the bishops reviewing their pasts -with grave misgivings. Bernard O’Hagan is a mannerist of genius. - -Sir Brian Dillon cleared his throat. - -“If I might venture on a remark,” he said, with an angry gleam in his -grey eyes, “what do you want, and who the devil _are_ you?” - -O’Hagan wound the black ribbon about his right forefinger. - -“I am the gentleman,” he replied, with frigid distinctness, “whom you -saw walking with Lady Dillon in St. James’s Park some days ago, and I am -here to _demand_ an explanation!” - -Have you sometimes, at a proper and sombre social function, dreamed of -what would happen if some bold spirit rose up and sang one of Mr. George -Robey’s sprightliest songs? Have you even contemplated, in what I may -term horrified delight, the effect of a loudly uttered swear-word upon a -gathering of elders? This remark of O’Hagan’s produced that sort of -effect. - -Betty Chatterton slowly sank down into an armchair, never removing her -gaze from the last speaker. Sir Brian’s eyes opened wider and yet wider. -He bit his lower lip—and took a step forward. He halted. - -“_You_,” he began—and his tone was different from that of his normal -speech—“_you_ are here, to demand an explanation of _me_! You admit -that you are——” - -“I beg,” O’Hagan interrupted him, “that you will not refer to my -statement as an admission. I am proud of my name, and proud of my -friendship with your wife. You have wronged her, and you wrong Miss -Chatterton. Particularly, you have wronged _me_. It is for this—for -your gross insult to myself—that I am here to call you to account!” - -Dillon nearly choked; and his fingers twitched convulsively. He -believed, and with a large and generous trust had sought no word from -his wife in aye or nay, that it had been another than himself who first -had won her love. Later, he believed that his trust had been misplaced, -had been betrayed; that the unknown who had played some part, great or -small, in her life before he, Brian, came into it, was indeed lord of -the kingdom that he madly had thought his own. - -Now the usurper stood before him, his attitude neither apologetic nor -explanatory—not that of the offender but of the offended! “—To call me -to account!” echoed Dillon, in a voice sunken almost to a whisper. - -That form of words was the crowning affront of all. It summoned into -being the primeval savage which dwells somewhere within every man of -Celtic stock. It was this primitive being, whose tribal pride had -stifled relenting—denied the woman fair speech and trial—and not the -cultured modern man, with whom O’Hagan was come to deal. - -“Betty”—Dillon’s speech was thick as that of a drunkard—“would you -mind postponing the supper?” He swallowed, dryly. “I will see you—to -the car. Forgive me, but to-night——” - -“_I_ will see Miss Chatterton to a cab,” interrupted O’Hagan’s icy -voice. “I have sent Lady Dillon home in the car. _You_ will await me -here——” - -Dillon clenched his fists: his nostrils dilated. In that instant my -friend came more nearly to an unseemly embroilment than ever in his -surprising career. - -“Brian!” - -Betty Chatterton sprang to Dillon, clutching his arm. - -“Miss Chatterton,” continued O’Hagan, “I beg you to accept my escort. It -will be better if we go at once.” - -She looked from man to man, and grew pale to the lips. Sir Brian -glassily stared directly at O’Hagan and ignored the hand that clung to -his rigid arm. The girl released her clasp and turned imploring blue -eyes upon the Captain. - -“Oh, Captain O’Hagan,” she said, “there is some dreadful mistake! If you -think—ah! how can I say what I mean? _Will_ you believe me”—she -frankly met his gaze—“if I tell you that Sir Brian and I are just -chums?” Her eyes were flooded with tears. “He is awfully—dreadfully -unhappy about . . .” She laid her hand hesitatingly upon O’Hagan’s arm. -“I know you have done him no wrong. Won’t you believe _me_, too? Can’t -we be friends?” - -(“I had anticipated something altogether more vulgar, Raymond,” O’Hagan -recently informed me. “I will confess that I was surprised and -delighted. Miss Chatterton had the instincts of a lady and the -generosity of a gentleman! A really lovable nature, my boy. That -infernal ass deserved nothing so fine as her friendship!”) - -The Captain raised her hand to his lips, bending over it with stately -courtesy. Again their eyes met—and these two understood one another. - -“Betty,” began Dillon, advancing. - -She turned to him. - -“Stay where you are, Brian,” she said, with a sudden note of command. -“You must see that I don’t want to be mixed up in your quarrels. -And—Captain O’Hagan is right. We cannot expect the world to understand -us. You shouldn’t have come here to-night. No, I’m not angry with you, -silly boy—but it wasn’t fair to me. I can see that, now. You had nearly -made a big mistake, Brian. Good-bye.” - -She held out her hand, firmly. Dillon turned away. - -“All right,” she said, and shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll know I was a -real pal one day.” - -She leant lightly upon O’Hagan’s arm; and the two left the room. She -smiled bravely as they passed the stage door-keeper and bade him -cheerily good-night. - -(“Gad, Raymond!” says O’Hagan, “that girl was a brick; for she was every -bit as much in love with Dillon as Dillon was in love with his wife!”) - - ————— - - - IV. - THE SNOWS OF THE YUKON. - -O’Hagan, with some research, recently established the fact, in the case -of Betty Chatterton, that “there was good blood on the mother’s side.” I -fancy he slept better after that. As a child of the people (I use my -friend’s phraseology) Miss Chatterton was a disturbing element in the -Captain’s philosophy. - -He turned to the dressing-room. Let us accompany him. - -On the landing stood the maid. - -“Please, sir,” said she, timidly, “may I go in and finish packing the -basket?” - -“Presently, my good girl,” replied the Captain, “presently.” - -Sir Brian Dillon was seated where O’Hagan first had found him. He was -smoking a cigarette. His face was somewhat pale. - -He rose, as the Captain entered, and very deliberately threw the -cigarette into the tiny hearth. To any but a student of indications, he -must have appeared quite composed. O’Hagan knew it to be otherwise. Yet -he was unprepared for Dillon’s action. Dillon, silently, leapt at him -across the room! - -I say he was unprepared. In a certain sense he was. But, on the other -hand, a pupil of Myuku is never unprepared. O’Hagan dropped his cane, -instinctively (the Higher Jiu-jitsu is essentially instinctive). He -grasped the fist which whizzed within half an inch of his right ear, -performing one of those lightning movements unachievable by any other -man of my acquaintance. He thrust it up. He twisted it to the -right—down—and doubled the arm behind Dillon’s back. Daintily, he -clasped the other wrist and held the left arm inert, outstretched at an -angle of forty-five from his opponent’s side. - -This, you may know, is a simple trick, which can be performed, with -luck, by several members, individually, of the Metropolitan and City -Police forces. - -Dillon made one attempt to break away—and then stood still, looking -back across his shoulder at O’Hagan. - -“By God, I’ll kill you!” - -There was something shocking in the murderous intent which beaconed from -his eyes. - -“Later, you shall be afforded every opportunity. But, first, you must -hear me. Shall I release you?” - -No humiliation can equal that which it is in the power of the expert -Jiu-Jitsuist to inflict. An enraged man, though he be outclassed, -overweighted, may fight to the last and keep his pride. But this supreme -inertia, this being petrified, posed as for a ballroom scene in a -“living-picture,” with frenzied anger boiling in the veins and no muscle -responding to the mind’s urgent commands, is something that must be -experienced fully to be appreciated. - -Dillon panted. - -“If I release you,” added O’Hagan icily, “it will be upon parole; upon -the understanding that you conserve your resentment for a more fitting -time.” - -“Release me!” - -“Upon that understanding?” - -“Curse you! . . . _yes!_” - -O’Hagan dropped his hands, stepped back to the little mantelpiece and -leaned upon it, raising his monocle before his right eye. - -“Sir Brian Dillon,” he said deliberately, “you may have heard my name; -for I knew your father well.” - -The other’s fingers twitched. He glared directly at O’Hagan, and thrust -his hands deeply in his pockets. - -“Your father would have known the gross nature of your insult to me. -Strong man as you are, he would have forced you to apologise, or have -knocked you down. Do your memories bear me out?” - -Dillon swallowed, emotionally. - -“You add insult to the most awful injury one man can inflict upon -another——” - -“Stop!” O’Hagan’s big eyes blazed. He took a step forward. “Stop! By -God, sir, if you presume to cast such an innuendo in my face I will -break your neck, though I hang for it!” - -There was a species of subdued ferocity in his manner that had forced -conviction upon anyone. No man born of woman could have doubted him. - -“You slander me. It is no excuse that you do so, thinking I am he who -died on the Yukon border last March.” - -A puzzled expression mingled and conflicted with the others which -flitted across Dillon’s face. - -“Since Sheila Cavanagh and I met at Dunnamore Castle—a childish meeting -which your wife had forgotten—we never had set eyes upon each other -until that day in St. James’s Park. Despite the passage of years, I knew -her again. How dare you—I repeat, sir, how dare you presume to deny me -the privilege of your wife’s friendship!” - -Dillon’s expression changed again—to one of bewilderment. - -“Then,” he gasped, “you are not——” - -O’Hagan raised his head. - -“Let him rest in peace,” he said sternly. “He was an honourable man, -unfortunate in love. You wrong him villainously. If she had cared for -him he would be alive to-day. It was something very like suicide—and -therefore I charge you, Brian Dillon, never to breathe a word of his -unhappy end, never to speak his name to your wife.” - -“I don’t know his name. How do you——” - -“I buried him in the snow!” said Captain O’Hagan with impressive -finality. - -Dillon dropped limply on to the big property-basket. - -“Then Sheila never cared for him! And he is dead! And it was you, an old -friend, and a friend of my father’s, whom——” - -“You have been a villain to her!—a villain to Miss Chatterton—doubly a -villain to me!——” - -Sir Brian sprang up, his face boyish, bright with a glad contrition. - -“Captain O’Hagan!” he cried, “will you take my hand? A hundred thousand -times I apologise! _Can_ you forgive me! Do you think Sheila can?” - - * * * * * - -“At such times,” my mendacious friend has informed me, “to lie becomes a -virtue. Dillon distrusted his wife’s old admirer—whose name he had -quixotically, though fortunately, avoided learning. Therefore, -preparatory to peace, the anonymous gentleman had to be whitewashed. His -whitewashing accomplished, next, in order to insure Dillon’s silence -respecting his history, he had to be buried for ever. - -“I buried him in the eternal snows, Raymond. What more appropriate tomb -for the rejected lover?” - - - - - EXPLOIT THE FIFTH. - - HE DEALS WITH DON JUAN. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE FIFTH. - HE DEALS WITH DON JUAN. - - - I. - HAVERLEY OF THE GREYS. - -My friend Captain O’Hagan is a man fatally easy to misjudge; a man -monstrously difficult to appreciate. Arraign him before a bar of his -peers, and no two findings would march in step, no two voices be in -unison. If we except the critic of the _Tailor and Cutter_, I doubt, -indeed, if there be a man in London who perceives the exquisite -distinction of O’Hagan’s dress. His mode of going hatless is dubbed -affectation; his purple-lined cloak an ostentatious extravagance. - -But some there are who instinctively detect O’Hagan’s sterling -qualities; some (as myself) achieve to this knowledge; and some have it -thrust upon them. - -I recall an illustrative incident: - -O’Hagan and I were at one of those pleasant afternoon functions where -the caller surreptitiously, but constantly, glances at his timepiece in -order to learn if a sufficient interval has elapsed since his arrival to -admit of his departure. You have been, no doubt? O’Hagan rarely goes; -but a Miss Pamela Crichton was present on this occasion—and, somehow, -O’Hagan and I are frequently meeting this charming girl at all sorts of -odd places—quite by accident, oh, quite by accident. - -“I am proud of the success which Pamela has achieved,” my friend -whispered to me, “since I took her up.” (She composes). “But I do not -approve of her accepting these social invitations. She is merely -providing the hostess with a gratuitous entertainment.” - -This view of the matter, from O’Hagan, surprised me. But later, the -hostess said: - -“_Dear_ Miss Crichton, you will play us that last charming piece of -yours, _won’t_ you!” - -Mrs. Pointzby-North’s request was sweetly proffered, but it was a -sweetness akin to that with which, addressing a valued butler, she might -have said: - -“_Milton_, you will see that the bull-dogs are not permitted to fight in -the drawing-room in future, _won’t_ you!” - -O’Hagan did not object to the tone of patronage, however. (“Mrs. -Pointzby-North,” said he, “is a member of a very old and distinguished -family.” That, of course, was final.) - -But when Pamela began to play, delightfully, and everyone continued to -chatter, simianly, he stood up. - -“Rank has its obligations,” he said—and strode across to the player. - -He took both her hands, and the flow of melody ceased upon an unexpected -discord. Then came silence—the thrilling silence of surprise. Lolling -gracefully upon the baby grand, my friend toyed with the black ribbon -upon which his monocle dangles and glanced toward Mrs. Pointzby-North. - -“My dear Mrs. North, as a very old and quite absurdly privileged friend, -might I address a few words to everybody, without annoyance to you?” - -Mrs. Pointzby-North, fluttering somewhat: - -“My _dear_ Captain O’Hagan! As if you _could_ offend me, however hard -you tried!” - -O’Hagan inclined his head, and raised the monocle to survey the -expectant ring of guests. Then: - -“Good folks, Miss Pamela Crichton is so well worth listening to, that I -beg you will preserve a perfect quiet whilst she is playing. Believe me, -you will be well repaid, and will furthermore confer upon Mrs. North and -upon myself a favour which we shall deeply appreciate!” - -Pamela performed amid a throbbing silence which would have gratified -Sarah Bernhardt. But I divined how in future the doors of Mrs. -Pointzby-North would be closed to Miss Crichton. - -(“It is better,” O’Hagan explained to me, when we had seen the girl to a -cab. “I do not desire that Pamela be treated as a public exhibit.”) - -Replace the famous cloak with a toga, and in O’Hagan you have a very -complete patrician—an aristocrat of sensibilities so exquisite that the -trifling errors of good society jar upon them more harshly than the -eating of peas with a knife upon the atrophied perceptions of the merely -respectable. - -After dinner that evening Sir Roger Rundel called upon O’Hagan in his -chambers. - -My friend’s chambers overlook Whitehall, and, in his moments of ease, he -is always to be found in the room which he calls his library, but whose -appointments more nearly correspond with those of a harêm. To visitors -but superficially acquainted with O’Hagan, this apartment proves a -surprise. Its arabesques dimly perceptible in the blue rays of a hanging -lamp, the plash of water in a tiny marble basin enhancing the illusion -that one has lost one’s way, this _mandarah_ possesses all the charms of -the unexpected. - -For golden carp in the basin you are of course prepared? Prepare, -further, for O’Hagan in a loose blue robe, O’Hagan extended upon a -cushioned divan, sipping coffee from a tiny porcelain cup and enjoying -the solace of tumbâk in a Persian narghli. - -Donohue, a model man, immaculate, in immaculate black, proclaimed the -arrival, and ushered in the person, of Sir Roger. You would like Sir -Roger Rundel; bronzed, well groomed, reserved, forty-five; he is what we -mean by a typical English gentleman. - -He and O’Hagan are old friends. Donohue made fresh _kahweh_ (no one -expects whisky in the _mandarah_), whilst Sir Roger selected from the -rack an amber mouthpiece neatly labelled “R.R.” and appropriated the -guest’s tube of the narghli. - -O’Hagan: “Been hoping to see you every day since I heard of your return, -Rundel.” - -Sir Roger: “Yes, yes. Since my—marriage, fear I’ve neglected bachelor -friends. I leave London to-night—on departmental business.” - -Silence; broken by bubbling of narghli. Enter Donohue with coffee. Exit -Donohue. - -O’Hagan fumbled for the indispensable pebble, found it, and examined Sir -Roger’s face critically. - -“There’s a fly in the ointment, Rundel. Name the brute’s species.” - -Sir Roger put down his cup with a rattle. - -“Captain Haverley,” he snapped—“and now I’ve said it!” - -“Ah,” mused O’Hagan; “Haverley, of the —th Greys. Only know him by -repute.” - -“What sort of repute?” growled Rundel. - -“Yes,” O’Hagan nodded, and dropped his monocle. “_That_ sort!” - -Sir Roger got upon his feet, and began to pace up and down a square of -Persian carpet. - -“We know one another, O’Hagan. There’s not another man in England I’d -confide in. But—well—Beesley told me about this afternoon—at Mrs. -Pointzby-North’s, and I said, ‘Same old O’Hagan!’ That’s what it is, -O’Hagan: there’s only one of you—only one of you! -This—friendship—between my wife and Haverley is nothing—from Val’s -point of view. Understand? _She_ means no harm.” - -“What attitude have you adopted?” - -“No attitude. Overlooked it. But I’m going away; and I will _not_ have -Val talked about, and I will _not_ be made to look ridiculous. In a -word, O’Hagan, I’ll have no damned _cavalière servante_ with Haverley’s -reputation dangling after my wife!” - -“Well?” said O’Hagan, calmly sipping coffee. - -“Val’s younger than me; and I don’t want her to think that I think—see -what I mean? I can’t speak to _her_.” - -“I follow you perfectly,” said O’Hagan. “You can speak to neither party -without the risk of precipitating what you wish to avoid. Thanks for -entrusting this matter to me, Rundel. I will call out Captain Haverley -to-morrow morning!” - -“My dear fellow! never do at all!” - -“Why? I should see to it that he remained incapacitated in France -throughout the term of your absence!” - -“Too medieval, O’Hagan—too dam’ medieval. Bar you the country for -twelve months at least! Besides, he might refuse—or, worse, you might -kill him!” - -“True,” agreed O’Hagan; “such mistakes have occurred. However—if -Captain Haverley is not permitted the society of Lady Rundel during your -absence, I take it that you will be satisfied?” - -“Certainly! certainly! If I knew that——” - -“Rely upon it, Rundel,” said O’Hagan, rising. “I will put an end to this -undesirable intimacy. I shall regard it as my sacred duty to do so!” - -In that moment he was superb; a man worthy of the confidence of kings; a -man to hold stainless the honour of a queen. - -“My dear fellow!” said Sir Roger, and shook his hand furiously. “My -dear, dear fellow!” - -Ah! what a privilege it is to call Bernard O’Hagan your friend! - - ————— - - - II. - ACCORDING TO MYUKU. - -Captain Haverley placed upon a table beside him the card of Captain The -Hon. Bernard O’Hagan, V.C., D.S.O., as that distinguished officer was -shown in. - -“Of course I have heard of you, Captain O’Hagan,” he said; “but this is -our first meeting, I think?” He glanced at his watch. “Better late than -never!” - -O’Hagan bowed coldly. - -“I was about to refer to my calling upon you at this late hour,” he -explained; “but since you have so rudely anticipated me, an apology -becomes unnecessary. I will merely state my business.” - -Haverley, a blonde and arrogantly handsome man at whose breast Eros -aimed his darts every time that he went into a drawing-room, and at -whose back fifty per cent, of his company were sworn to aim their rifles -the first time that he went into action, believed that he had -misunderstood O’Hagan. But: - -“In short,” continued the latter, swinging his monocle, “your friendship -with Lady Rundel must cease. It will be evident to you that in her -husband’s absence its continuance would be compromising.” - -Haverley knew, then, that he had heard aright, and his face paled with -an anger which was intense; his hazel eyes seemed to emit sparks; and he -slowly moved nearer to this adept in polished insult. - -“Captain O’Hagan,” he said, distinctly—“the door is immediately behind -you.” - -“A matter of more pressing import,” replied O’Hagan icily, “is -immediately in front of me.” - -With three swinging strides he crossed to the mantelpiece. It was -decorated with several women’s photographs—among them, one of Lady -Rundel. Snatching it, framed as it was, from its place, he broke it -across his knee and hurled the fragments into the hearth! - -At that, Haverley leapt. Calculating with a boxer’s cunning the exact -instant when his man would turn, he launched a blow for the angle of his -jaw. The primitive, strong within him, ruled now supreme. But O’Hagan -did _not_ turn. - -He stepped back upon Haverley, and stooped. - -It is needless to quote the apposite precept of Shashu Myuku of Nagasaki -(Dean of the College of Higher Jiu-jitsu) in order to make clear what -happened. Haverley performed a complete somersault over O’Hagan’s arched -back and fell, heaped up, crashing in the hearth. - -Captain O’Hagan stepped to the door, and gained it as Haverley’s man -hurriedly entered. - -“You understand?” said O’Hagan. “I forbid you this lady’s company. If -you dispute my right to do so, I shall expect your friends in the -morning.” - -Haverley, choking, shaken, got upon his feet. His white-faced man barred -the door. - -“Excuse me, sir . . .” - -O’Hagan brushed him aside. He has a sweeping motion of the left arm -which would remove a lifeguardsman from his path as effectively as the -flick of a handkerchief brushes a fly from a bald head. - -The man clutched at a buhl cabinet to save himself. Upon a discordant -finale of smashing porcelain, intermingled with human cursing, Captain -O’Hagan made his exit to the plaudit of the gods. - -He is a master of effective curtains. - - ————— - - - III. - INTRODUCING DONOHUE. - -I have hinted, I think, that my friend disapproves of many usages of -modern society. He maintains that it is in no sense representative of -the true aristocracy. (“I have known a knight, Raymond,” he says “who -avoided eating water-melon because it made his ears wet.”) This anecdote -I take to be more properly a parable; but it serves to illustrate a -phase of O’Hagan’s character. - -He would have the feminine section of society composed wholly of Cæsar’ -wives. How he reconciles this view with the career of the fair O’Hagan -who embellished a Stuart Court held at Hampton, I am too diffident to -inquire though curious to know. - -His espousal of the righteous cause of Sir Roger Rundel was in every -sense a love-match. What advice should _you_ have offered to Sir Roger? -At best your aid had ceased with words, I dare to predict. But from the -first traceable O’Hagan (some kind of pirate, I believe) to Bernard, the -O’Hagans essentially figure as men of action, often as not of sanguinary -action. We are agreed, then, that you and I are not of the kidney -properly to conduct this affair? Your attention for Captain Bernard -O’Hagan! - -No communication from Haverley reached him during the following morning. -(“I have since taken occasion to look up the fellow’s pedigree,” O’Hagan -informed me; “and the fortunes of the family apparently date from a -certain pork butcher by letters patent to George III. One can understand -a lack of finesse in a scion of sausage-mongers. God help the Army!”) - -Noon, and after, saw my friend engaged upon affairs of his own. But in -the evening Donohue reported in the _mandarah_. - -This remarkable man is worthy of a brief inspection. - -In figure he is sturdy, of no more than medium height. He has -well-brushed hair of the colour of stale mustard, and a ruddy -complexion. Clean-shaven, his upper lip usurps an undue share of his -countenance, and his jaw would spell truculence were its significance -not modified by the humorous twinkle in the sky-blue eyes. - -Behold Donohue, a man of attainments; a valet unsurpassable, of eye more -true for the fold of a cloak than any modiste of the Rue de la Paix; a -colourist in whom discord between a scarf and a soft shirt produces a -blanching of the cheek; who, of a hundred waistcoats, having a hundred -shades, will unerringly select _the_ waistcoat for _the_ occasion. He -has other qualities, to be displayed later. - -Donohue: “Sir.” - -“Well, Donohue?”—O’Hagan. - -“Captain Haverley, with Lady Rundel at Folly Theatre; stalls; Row B; -numbers 6 and 7.” - -“Very good.” - -Exit Donohue. - -This paragon must have delighted the gloomy soul of Athos. - -Bernard O’Hagan, having finished his coffee, discarded the loose robe -for the purple-lined cloak, pulled on his gloves, and sallied forth into -Whitehall, cloak flying, holding his cane like an Italian rapier, and -generally comporting himself as some Buckingham bound for St. James’s. - -He turned his steps in the direction of the Folly, however. To the -box-office clerk: - -“I require a stall.” - -“We have only three vacant, sir.” - -“One will be sufficient.” - -No traffic of the stage that evening had created anything approximating -to the impression occasioned by O’Hagan’s entrance. My friend has been -called a _poseur_. It is unjust. He cannot help it. Bernard O’Hagan -belongs to the age of plumes and velvet. His is the soul of a true -courtier. - -Just within the big glass door he paused for a moment, and, the monocle -glittering as he held it before his right eye, studied the occupants of -Row B. Perceiving Lady Rundel (a conspicuously pretty woman) staring at -him fascinatedly, he bowed. A hundred sighs arose; a hundred hearts lay -unheeded at the feet of this incomparable cavalier. - -Haverley devoted his attention exclusively to the stage. He was gnawing -his moustache. - -Throughout the performance, O’Hagan lolled back in his stall, one leg -negligently thrown across the other, and studied the ladies, who -constitute the principal attraction of this house, with a kind of bored -curiosity. - -At the close of the play Lady Rundel and Captain Haverley stood in the -lobby. O’Hagan bowed low before madame. Then, to her squire: - -“I believe I forbade you this lady’s society, sir?” said he. - -There are simple remarks which, at certain times, you or I might make, -but which you and I lack the stark audacity to make. Made, they strike -the listener with a species of paralysis. This was one of them. - -Lady Rundel flushed, and started back. - -“Captain O’Hagan!” she began—— - -“Don’t speak to him, Lady Rundel!” came hissing, forced speech from -Haverley. “Allow me to see you to your car. I have something very -particular to say to Captain O’Hagan!” - -O’Hagan bowed again inimitably. - -“Good-night, Lady Rundel. I have something very particular to say to -_you_ in the morning.” - -Captain O’Hagan sank reposefully into a lounge, and, the observed of -everyone who passed out of the theatre, awaited Haverley’s return. At -least a score of ladies inquired _sotto voce_ of their escorts: “Who is -that distinguished-looking man?” - -Haverley presently returned, forcing his way roughly against the -thinning stream of supper-seekers. Over the heads of the outgoing, -O’Hagan perceived the drawn face and angry, blazing eyes. He turned his -glass casually in that direction. - -Quivering before him, Haverley said, with hardly repressed violence: - -“You are a blackguard! I have little doubt that a public brawl would be -to your low taste. But I prefer to call upon you to-morrow. I shall -bring a horse-whip!” Unable further to trust himself to face the icy -stare which met him, he turned, and almost ran from the now empty lobby. - -Captain O’Hagan swung streetward, in turn. A taxi-cab had at that moment -pulled up to the kerb; and Haverley was fumbling with shaking fingers -for a coin for the theatre attendant, ere entering it. - -O’Hagan calmly opened the door, stepped in, and reclosed it. Leaning -from the window: - -“Junior Guards Club!” he said. “Half a sovereign if you do it in four -minutes!” - -Gold is a talisman, my masters. The taxi-driver risked consequences—and -started. - -(“You see,” goes O’Hagan’s explanation of this episode, “the cab was the -last in the rank, and I had an appointment. Haverley may have had one -also. But pedigree before pork, Raymond.”) - - ————— - - - IV. - DONOHUE’S ORDERS. - -The morning was young, and O’Hagan discussing rolls and coffee when -Donohue announced Captain Haverley and Mr. Salter. - -O’Hagan rose ceremoniously. He wore a slate-grey lounge suit, with a -silver-grey plush French knot in lieu of a tie. This combination suits -him admirably and affords Donohue great scope for discrimination in the -selecting of a soft shirt to harmonise with the scheme. - -Entered Haverley, accompanied by a tall and preternaturally thin -gentleman who carried, a leather case. O’Hagan bowed coldly to the -captain, and upon his companion turned the monocle. - -“This,” he said frigidly, sweeping his hand toward Mr. Salter, “I assume -to be your horse-whip?” - -“Mr. Salter is my solicitor!” replied Haverley loudly. “I have decided -that a public exposure is what you require! We have therefore——” - -(O’Hagan pressed a bell.) - -“—I say we have therefore called formally to advise you——” - -(Donohue entered.) - -“—That a police-court summons for drunken assault and——” - -O’Hagan, waving monocle Salterward: - -“Donohue, kindly see this person to the door.” - -Mr. Salter, who was opening his brief-case looked up alarmedly. - -“My solicitor,” shouted Haverley, who was rapidly losing control of -himself, “is——” - -“Donohue!” - -Donohue bowed to Mr. Salter and held wide the door. - -Salter: “Captain O’Hagan, as legal adviser——” - -“_Donohue!_” - -Donohue stepped forward and took up Mr. Salter’s case. Within his right -arm he linked the left of Mr. Salter, and with the gentle firmness of a -Milo of Crotona led him rapidly from the room. Came a quavering cry: - -“You will pay dearly for this insult!” - -Haverley, eyes aflame, bounded to the door. It was locked. He turned to -where O’Hagan, lolling against the mantelpiece, studied the morning’s -manœuvres through upraised glass. - -“I do not,” explained O’Hagan icily, “allow solicitors in these -chambers.” - -Haverley leant back against the door, almost as though he were preparing -for a spring. He was a man swept by a tornado of passion, and before its -force he quivered and shook. - -“The law is the weapon of churls,” continued O’Hagan. “You are a -soldier—as I regret to remind you. Upon the table on your right are -French foils, Italian rapiers, and three types of sabre. You clearly -maintain your right to Lady Rundel’s society. I forbid you to see her -again. We will settle the point.” - -Haverley cleared his throat, and spoke huskily: - -“You are a madman—and I will see that you are treated as such——” - -“Before we commence,” added O’Hagan, taking up a writing-block, “we will -each write a note to the effect that we were practising a new mode of -mounted attack, and that the affair was an accident. One of these notes -will afterwards be destroyed.” - -“Open the door!” demanded Haverley, tensely. - -Captain O’Hagan observed him with a kind of unpleasant curiosity. - -“As a soldier, and as a gentleman, you cannot refuse, of course!” - -“Open that door! Do you hear me? You are mad!” - -O’Hagan swung the monocle, and smiled upon the rapidly-breathing -Haverley with undisguised contempt. - -“Captain Haverley,” he said, “Sir Roger Rundel is my friend; and whilst -I live, any gay Lothario who seeks to gratify his vanity by compromising -my friend’s wife shall find at least one obstacle in his path. You will -either hand me a written undertaking to secure a transfer to the 5th, -vice Captain Macklin, invalided—leaving for Burma on the 19th—or -remove that obstacle. You quit this room upon no other condition.” - -“Open the door!” roared Haverley, clenching his fists and grinding his -teeth with animal fury. “Open the door! By God! I’ll clap you in custody -before another hour has passed!” - -“If you decline,” said O’Hagan, coldly, “I will ring for the door to be -opened as you desire——” - -Haverley drummed his right fist into the palm of his left hand and -stamped upon the floor with his foot. He was literally gasping in his -fury. - -“—In order,” resumed the chilly voice, “that my man may thrash you. I -offer you, for the last time, the satisfaction of a gentleman——” - -“Damn your impudent speeches! Open the door!” - -Captain O’Hagan pressed the bell. - -The door opened so suddenly and violently as to precipitate Haverley -forward into the room. He recovered himself, turned, and sprang with a -cry upon Donohue. - -(“Donohue,” O’Hagan has informed me, “is not of course an adept of the -_Higher_ Arts of Jiu-Jitsu; but he has a pleasing proficiency in the -more ordinary holds and falls.”) - -Donohue, then, met the attack in a novel way. He received Captain -Haverley in a loving embrace. Then, like a teetotum, Haverley was spun -right-about, and held, purple-faced, eyes starting hideously, with his -arms locked behind him by the human manacle of Donohue’s iron grip. - -Donohue: “Yes, sir?” - -“You have your instructions, Donohue,” said O’Hagan—and passing the -inarticulate Haverley, strode out of the room. - - ————— - - - V. - REVELATIONS. - -“The worse a man’s reputation,” Bernard O’Hagan holds, “the more the -women like him. In French comedy we find the jealous husband held up to -ridicule—hence the superiority of the lover. Failing the sword, -Ridicule, my boy, is the weapon to cut short the career of Gallantry.” - -Remembering this, let us accompany Captain O’Hagan to Lady Rundel’s. - -He was admitted. Following upon such an affair as that of the previous -evening, it is more than doubtful if another had enjoyed the privilege -of admission. But Bernard O’Hagan is unused to refusals. - -Lady Rundel received him with studied coldness. He bent low over her -hand in his remote, courtly fashion. - -“I have an explanation to offer of my conduct of last night,” he -explained blandly. - -“I am curious to hear it!” - -“That I do not doubt, Lady Rundel; for you must have perceived that I -strongly disapproved of the man Haverley!” - -She was caressing a miniature dog, but at that she glanced up, flushing. - -“It is a pity,” she began—— - -“It is!” agreed O’Hagan, toying with his monocle. “It is indeed a -thousand pities, for you are such a charmingly pretty woman!” - -“Captain O’Hagan! I fail to understand you!” But her eyes were less -angry than her tones. “You presume too far, even for so old a friend, -when you attempt to control my choice of acquaintances!” - -“Dear Lady Rundel”—he bent forward and patted her hand soothingly—“it -annoyed me so deeply (you know how acutely sensitive I am) to hear -people laughing!” - -“Laughing?” - -Lady Rundel met his eyes interrogatively. - -“I felt that the position was so very undignified. Sir Roger——” - -“Captain O’Hagan—are you insinuating that people are laughing at my -husband That——” - -“At your husband! At Sir Roger!” O’Hagan stared amazedly through the -pebble. “No one would dare to laugh at Sir Roger Rundel, believe me!” - -A far-away look came into Lady Rundel’s eyes at these words. O’Hagan was -glad to see that look; glad for Sir Roger’s sake. He knew, then, that -his curious duty was almost accomplished—that Captain Haverley was -merely a passing amusement. - -Lady Rundel rose slowly from her chair. O’Hagan observed her slim figure -with smiling, aesthetic appreciation. She walked across to a small -table, glancing at some trifle which it bore—and turned, leaning back -upon the table-edge. - -“What do you mean, then?” she asked. “At whom are they laughing?” - -O’Hagan shrugged his shoulders with feigned embarrassment. - -“A man who has been tarred and feathered,” he began—— - -“Tarred and feathered!” Her eyes were opened widely. “Captain O’Hagan! -Whatever do you mean?” - -“—Casts ridicule upon any woman who consents to be seen in his -company!” - -“Captain O’Hagan, be so good as to explain yourself!” - -O’Hagan raised his monocle. - -“What! you did not know—about Haverley?” - -“Frankly, I cannot believe it!” she cried, flushing deeply. “I am -sure—I am almost certain—that Captain Haverley would not submit to -such an indignity from _any_ man!” - -“It _is_ an indignity, is it not?” he said, confidentially. - -“Oh! I _cannot_ believe it! And it is _known_?” - -“That is the singular part of the thing! I have never been able to -understand why Haverley did not remain abroad. It was my scamp, Donohue, -who perpetrated the outrage!” - -“Your _man_! Your man tarred and feathered Captain Haverley?” - -“He did, the rogue! I would have discharged the fellow, but he is the -only man in England who knows how to pack dress trousers in a -suit-case!” - -Lady Rundel was watching O’Hagan. When he really gets into his stride, -my friend’s mendacity is fascinating. He becomes supernormally fluent; -his truthless discourse holds one enthralled. - -“The car is ready,” she said slowly. “I should like to hear this -unsavoury story from the man Donohue himself!” - -It was designed for a home thrust, but O’Hagan rose delightedly. - -“Dear Lady Rundel,” he said. “By all means You honour me.” - - ————— - - - VI. - DONOHUE AGAIN. - -Some delay occurred at the door of O’Hagan’s chambers. - -“Donohue cannot have gone out,” said he. “How careless of me to have -forgotten my key!” - -He rang impatiently. Once—twice—thrice. Then the door was opened some -three inches and Donohue’s face peered through the aperture. - -“Excuse me, sir,” said that treasure, ignoring O’Hagan’s icy stare; “but -would you, sir—I don’t ask a favour often—would you come back in half -an hour, sir?” - -Captain O’Hagan thrust the door open, and swept Donohue against the -wall. - -“What do you mean?” he demanded fiercely. “Consider yourself discharged, -Donohue! What . . .” - -An uproarious banging and shouting drowned further speech. Lady Rundel -clearly was afraid to enter. Donohue shrank away before the fierce glare -which sought him through the pebble. - -“_Donahue!_”—portentously. - -“Sir!” - -“What is that unseemly disturbance proceeding from the store-room?” - -Donohue, with great hesitancy: - -“I’m sorry, sir! You can discharge me if you like—excuse me, sir, you -_have_! But he came here calling you such dirty names, sir, and—excuse -me, m’lady—said things about her ladyship!——” - -“Donohue!” interrupted O’Hagan, in a voice of freezing calm—“unlock the -store-room door!” - -“Sir——” - -“Donohue! unlock the store-room door! Then pack your box.” - -Donohue, with a sort of badly veiled truculence—(“I have always -distrusted that man!” whispered Lady Rundel)—walked to and unlocked the -door indicated. - -Whereupon Lady Rundel uttered a stifled shriek. - -For out into view leapt a nightmare apparition—a man who had sky-blue -hair and only half a moustache! Furthermore, that surviving half was -grass-green! - -“Come out, you piebald spalpeen!” cried Donohue, throwing restraint to -the winds—“come out and show what I’ve done to you!” - -Lady Rundel slowly raised her hands to her face. - -“Heavens!” she said, in a smothered voice, “it is Bobby Haverley! -Captain O’Hagan, your man must be given in char. . . .” - -Her voice trailed off into a suppressed ripple. - -“Lady Rundel!” shouted Haverley frantically—“This is a conspiracy! I -have been lashed to a chair——” - -But Lady Rundel already was half way down the stairs, and her laughter, -no longer to be denied, came back in mocking answer. O’Hagan stood in -the doorway, monocle raised Haverley, by a tremendous effort, regained -control of himself. - -“Captain O’Hagan,” he said, his voice grating harshly, “you will be in -jail to-morrow.” - -“Possibly,” replied O’Hagan; “but let us survey the facts. If you care -to give me the written undertaking to which I referred—merely a matter -of form, _now_—you may enjoy the use of the hot and cold water in my -bathroom. The dye will wash out. I will even lend you a razor. If you -decline, you are at liberty to depart into Whitehall—as you are! -Finally, Donohue has taken your photograph! You did so, Donohue?” - -Donohue: “I did, sir.” - -“It will, of course, be reproduced in the press during the course of the -case. The bathroom is on your immediate left.” - -Is it necessary to pursue this matter further? I think not. O’Hagan has -not been prosecuted. He never will be, I fancy. Recently, he related to -Lady Rundel the true facts of the affair; and I thought that she would -have never ceased laughing. - -Captain Bernard O’Hagan’s policy is, Do it hard, and face the music. One -sighs for a ministry of O’Hagans. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE SIXTH. - - HE HONOURS THE GRAND DUKE. - - - - - EXPLOIT THE SIXTH. - HE HONOURS THE GRAND DUKE. - - - I. - WE MEET THE DUKE. - -The character of my friend Bernard O’Hagan is a maze within a maze, a -dædalian labyrinth, to the heart whereof I long since have despaired of -penetrating. His sense of humour is acute, but peculiar. A man, he -declares, who cannot laugh at Mark Twain is a man from whose soul the -joy of life has departed. Yet his idea of bliss would seem to be -existence in a Persian rose-garden with some few congenial spirits, and, -for attendants, only Greek youths and maidens of flawless classic -beauty. - -Grotesque anomaly! For I defy any philosopher to reconcile the ideals of -Petronius Arbiter, Omar, and Samuel Clemens! - -“Alas, O’Hagan,” I say, “this world of ours is a grey place.” - -But he turns to me in surprise, monocle raised, and studies my face with -a certain apprehension. - -“How can you say so, Raymond? Have I not repeatedly demonstrated that -Romance lurks in hiding amid the most prosaic surroundings? Adventure, -my boy, is for the adventurous! It is only the blind who deny the -existence of fauns. I will undertake to find you a nymph in any wood. -Villains profound as the darkest dreams of Tolstoy regularly take tea in -the drawing-rooms of Mayfair; heroes loftier than Charlemagne jostle one -in the Strand!” - -Potential Cleopatras and Trojan Helens, I take it, abound in London. -Only lacking is that clash of Circumstance and the Man, which, in -history, has cast up such wondrous beings. - -As I glance at my picturesque friend, head aloft, purple-lined cloak -swung well back, and note the air of smiling defiance wherewith he faces -the world, I perceive the _Man_, and with pleasurable anticipation await -the Circumstance. I shall always remember one conversation of this kind, -for the reason that it directly preceded our meeting with the Grand -Duke. - -We had just quitted the theatre. My proposal in reference to supper had -discovered the interesting circumstance that our joint capital equalled -three-and-nine. - -“Had _you_ come out without money,” said O’Hagan, “I should not have -been surprised. Had _I_ come out without money I should not have been -surprised. But for us both, on the same evening, to do so, reveals the -finger of Fate.” - -O’Hagan, as he stood with one half of his face and figure lighted up by -the glare of the theatre lamps, and the other blacked out in contrasting -shadow, bore a resemblance rather more marked than usual to the Monarch -of merry memory. Withal, he looked strikingly handsome. He is the only -man of my acquaintance who can successfully wear a flowing, black dress -tie. - -Captain Bernard O’Hagan is a figure unforgettable. - -“Well?” I said, impatiently watching the theatre-goers driving -supperward. “Shall we have something at the club?” - -“No, Raymond,” replied my friend, reflectively. “That would be -capitulating. Is it possible that two honourable gentlemen, chancing to -be without half a sovereign or so, are forced to sup on credit? I recall -an episode in the career of my ancestor, Patrick.” - -He is fond of recounting episodes in the career of this ancestor, -Patrick—some time of the Musketeers of Louis XIII.—a gentleman who -would seem to have been chiefly notable for suave ruffianism. - -The nature of the episode I was not destined to learn, however, at the -time; for as O’Hagan lighted a cigarette, a block in the traffic -occurred at the corner of Wellington Street (do not misunderstand me to -mean that the incidents were correlative); and a handsome limousine was -held up immediately in front of us. The interior was brilliantly -illuminated, and a gentleman who lounged upon the fawn-coloured cushions -glanced curiously in our direction. - -This gentleman, the sole occupant, was distinguished by fiery -moustachios and a squarely trimmed beard. My association with what -O’Hagan terms “the lower journalism” has familiarised me with the faces -of notabilities. - -“That is the Grand Duke John of Siresia,” I volunteered, idly. - -“So it is,” said O’Hagan with lively interest. “So it is!” - -And ere I could say another word he had stepped to the door of the car, -opened it, and engaged the distinguished foreigner in conversation! - -Whilst I knew O’Hagan’s visiting-list to be extensive and peculiar, I -hitherto had been unaware that he was acquainted with the Siresian -autocrat. His action took me completely by surprise. Then, just as the -policeman ahead released the pent-up traffic, my friend turned and -beckoned to me. - -Full of a great wonder, I joined him at the open door. - -“Get in, Raymond!” he directed briefly, and thrust me, speechless with -astonishment, into a seat opposite the great personage. - -The chauffeur glanced back. The footman leapt down and came to the step. -As in a dream, I heard rapid, guttural instructions. The footman saluted -and leapt to his place. The car moved smoothly onward. - -O’Hagan raised his monocle, gazing at the bearded nobleman; then waved -it gracefully in my direction. - -“You may not have met my friend, Mr. Lawrence Raymond,” he said, with -the lordly condescension which he, alone, knows how to assume. -“Raymond—His Highness the Grand Duke John of Siresia!” - - ————— - - - II. - WE IMPROVE THE ACQUAINTANCE. - -O’Hagan’s friendship is a passport from the commonplace to the amazing. -In acknowledgment of this off-handed introduction I bowed, and was mute. -The Grand Duke nodded. His eyes constantly sought my nonchalant friend. - -“How fortunate,” said the latter smoothly, “that the traffic chanced to -be delayed.” - -Bewildered, utterly, I acquitted myself of an ambiguous nod. - -“Where are they?” asked the Grand Duke suddenly. His delivery was thick, -unmusical. - -“If you will be good enough to glance rearward,” replied O’Hagan, “you -will perceive a car which is following closely!” - -We were, at that moment, turning around by Trafalgar Square; so that -this prediction impressed me as being a peculiarly safe one. The Grand -Duke, however, peering through a little window at the back, turned again -to O’Hagan with palpable uneasiness. His heavy, dull features marked him -a man of bulldog tenacity and autocratic stupidity. - -“A green car?” he inquired. - -O’Hagan, twisting about one finger the black ribbon attached to his -monocle, inclined his head gravely. The tone of the Grand Duke’s query -had been peremptory—that of one accustomed to command and to be -slavishly obeyed. My friend’s mode of reply—the graceful and dignified -inclination of the head, the lowering of the eyelids—had subtly -defined, and with exquisite artistry, his attitude toward the Grand -Duke. - -In that simple inclination he had conveyed: “Duke”—(it were impossible -to imagine O’Hagan addressing any man breathing as “Your -Highness”)—“Duke, you are in the company of a gentleman at present -amicably disposed toward you, but of a gentleman who would as promptly -tweak your nose, should you forget what is due to him, as he would tweak -any other.” - -It was a silent declaration of aristocracy, typically and peculiarly -O’Haganish. - -A faint shade of difference crept into the Grand Duke’s voice. I doubt -if the man has lived, since Napoleon Buonaparte, who, meeting Captain -the Honble. Bernard O’Hagan, could have escaped enmeshment within his -catholic patronage. O’Hagan would patronize the shade of Julius Cæsar. - -“What,” inquired the Grand Duke awkwardly, “do you propose?” - -“First,” said my friend, holding his monocle between second and third -fingers, and waving it roofward, “extinguish these interior lights. It -was most indiscreet to travel so publicly.” - -Association with Bernard O’Hagan renders one more or less accustomed to -the _outre_. The amazing ceases to amaze, the appalling to appal; -wonders lose their potency, and one’s pulse remains normal amid singular -adventures. - -It afforded me small surprise to see my friend’s injunction instantly -obeyed. (It would afford me small surprise to see the Premier blacking -O’Hagan’s boots.) - -“Next,” continued the Captain, “direct your man to drive to your -embassy.” - -The obedient Grand Duke bent forward and called gutturally into the -tube. - -(“There is one thing,” O’Hagan tells me, “which a nobleman of the Grand -Duke’s race can never appreciate—the doctrine of aristocratic equality. -He must always dominate or be dominated. My ancestor, Patrick, had this -from the lips of Cardinal Richelieu—a singularly shrewd observer, -Raymond, and a gentleman.”) - -“I have no intention,” resumed the Grand Duke, “of handing them over to -the ambassador.” - -O’Hagan shrugged his shoulders impatiently, turning his eye-glass upon -the speaker with the air of a wise man weary of folly. - -“_Will_ you allow me to advise?” he said, with a certain disdain. “Do -_they_ know that?” - -“They cannot possibly,” replied the other. “It is what they most -fear—eh?” - -“Very well, then,” drawled O’Hagan, yawning discreetly under cover of a -gloved hand, “they will abandon the pursuit and no attempt will be made -upon your private apartments.” - -“I do not fear their attempts!” growled the Grand Duke, with truculent -contempt. - -“My good Duke!” said O’Hagan languidly—“my dear Duke—do you wish every -paper in Europe to discuss your affairs? Do you wish all the world to -hear of an attempt to burgle your rooms?” - -“What! do you think they would dare?” - -Captain O’Hagan surveyed him, pebble uplifted, as one surveys a -surpassing fool. - -“Dare!” he said icily. “Dare! My good, dear Duke—where is your common -sense?” - -(“That expression marked the psychological moment, Raymond,” he later -was good enough to inform me. “I was deliberately tightening the screw. -If he submitted. I knew that the man was mine.”) - -The Grand Duke glared for a moment. Then: - -“No; you are right!” he agreed, grudgingly. - -Bernard O’Hagan would be a dazzling ornament to the diplomatic service. -One can imagine his prevailing upon the united monarchies of Europe to -present a fleet of dreadnoughts to Great Britain as a little token of -esteem. - -Is it necessary, by the way, that I mention here how all this -extraordinary conversation was so much Sanscrit to me? I think not. I -perceived no gleam of light through the darkness. I was a man in a -tunnel leading he knows not whither, surrounded by he knows not what. - -My bewildered surmisings had come to a hazy meridian, I think, when the -car drew up before the embassadorial residence. - -“If he is at home, what excuse shall I make for my call?” asked the -Grand Duke. - -“Any excuse!” said O’Hagan drily. “You may profess to have heard rumours -that he is troubled with a return of his gout——” - -“He has no gout!” - -“His wife’s gout, then! Anything—anything!” - -Grunting uncouthly, the Grand Duke alighted and disappeared in the -darkness. Coincident with the footman’s reclosure of the door, burst -forth my dammed up torrent of queries. - -“_Ssh!_” O’Hagan raised his hand. “I will explain later, Raymond. -Exhibit no surprise. Merely agree with me—tacitly agree!” - -“But where did——” - -“_Ssh!_”—impatiently. “These servants are spies!” - -I felt curiously like a screw-stoppered bottle of some highly aerated -mineral, which has been partially unscrewed. Questions literally -_sizzled_ from me. But I must perforce contain myself; and we were -presently rejoined by the Grand Duke. He glanced up and down the street -ere entering. Giving a brief order to the man: - -“Where are they?” he growled, as he took his seat. - -“They have left their car,” replied my friend; “but two of them are in -hiding near the corner.” - -“Do you know either of these?” - -“_He_ is one!” said O’Hagan impressively. - -“Whom?” snapped the Grand Duke. - -Now, Captain O’Hagan is rarely at a loss for the right word at the right -time. He holds it churlish to stammer and stutter, and wholly -inconsistent with that grand manner of which, if I be not mistaken, he -is the only surviving master. Yet, now, he seemed somewhat taken aback. -Later, I understood why. But—— - -“Need you ask?” he returned, with very brief hesitancy. - -“Not Leo?” the Grand Duke demanded, hoarsely. - -O’Hagan smiled and inclined his head. - -The Siresian nobleman struck his huge fist into the palm of his hand, -furiously. He was a truly formidable man. - -“Curse him ten thousand times!” he shouted, wildly. “How has _he_ found -out that I have them?” - -“I fear you have been indiscreet, Duke,” murmured O’Hagan. - -“Indiscreet!” roared the Grand Duke. “Not a living soul can have seen me -meet Casimir! Ah, but——” - -He broke off, evidently struck by a new idea. - -“Was he followed?” he demanded. - -“I fear so!” gravely answered my friend. - -“They—have him?”—jerkily. - -“I fear so!” - -The Siresian swore, stormily. - -“Ah, well,” he concluded. “He was well paid for the risk—poor devil!” - -And now we were in the heart of hotel-land. The car drew up before the -dazzling portals of the New Louvre. The footman threw open the door and -stood rigidly to attention. On the car-step the Grand Duke hesitated, -turned, and was delivered of a new idea. - -“Now that I have the letters and the photographs, what have I to fear?” -he snapped, in an angry voice. “They cannot reach them here! And do they -not think that I have delivered them to the embassy?” - -O’Hagan placed a gloved finger to his lips, and directed a rapid glance -through his monocle toward a hotel servant who stood immediately behind -the footman. - -“It is good of you to bring us along to supper, Duke!” he cried loudly -and breezily. “Fancy running into you at the Folly of all places!” - -The Grand Duke accepted the guidance of this accomplished diplomat. In -single file we entered the hotel—the nobleman frowning thunderously at -the liveried servant silently impeached of espionage by O’Hagan. To a -suite of apartments furnished with opulent magnificence we made a -stately progress. When, for a few moments, my surprising friend and I -found ourselves alone, the mental volcano which raged within me burst -into active eruption, casting forth questions in a burning torrent. - -O’Hagan, hand raised: “My dear Raymond!” - -I talked on, but diminuendo. - -O’Hagan, raising monocle: “My dear fellow!” - -The querulous torrent died away, _poco a poco_. Then: - -“I had anticipated all your questions, my boy,” said O’Hagan; “and I -will deal with them in order. In the first place—No, I am _not_ -acquainted with the Grand Duke! I had never seen him in my life until -you drew my attention to him outside the Folly! I have no idea what it -is that he has secured, and which he evidently apprehends someone is -likely to pursue him in order to recover!—letters and photographs, -according to his own account. Do not glare in that way, Raymond; it -makes you appear cross-eyed!” - -To the door I looked hurriedly, and back to my nonchalant friend, who -swung his monocle and eyed me with an amused smile. My tongue defied me. - -“If you will glance over our conversation, in retrospect,” he continued, -“you will perceive that my contributions partook of the nature of -leading questions disguised as items of information. In fact, I adopted -the tactics of an examining magistrate! - -“It all rests upon this, Raymond. At the moment when you said, ‘That is -the Grand Duke John,’ you may recall that I was about to recount to you -an exploit of my ancestor, Patrick? This exploit, Raymond, was performed -before La Rochelle, and involved three of the enemy, a dozen bottles of -wine, and a game pie! The Grand Duke is the enemy in this case, my boy. -You must be aware that he is one of a group whose activities are -inimical to our interests in the Baltic. I saw my way clearly. I stepped -up and whispered to him, ‘They are following you, Duke! We will slip -into the car, unperceived amid the traffic, and explain more fully. -There must be no delay here!’” - -(I inhaled noisily.) - -“This was a bow at venture, Raymond. The odds against my scoring were -about ten thousand to one. But—as occurred to a certain Desmond O’Hagan -on a somewhat similar occasion—I scored! Given such premises, who after -that could err? Although I will confess that I overstepped the mark -once; but, thanks to the darkness of the car, and the corresponding -darkness prevailing in the Grand Ducal mind, I recovered! I may add, -Raymond, that our present position, though one of absorbing interest, is -delicate to a degree!” - -“O’Hagan!” I broke in hotly, “this is beyond belief! Had I known, had I -dreamed, of the false position in which we were placed——” - -I ceased. Language failed me again. Then: - -“O’Hagan!” I cried, “what have you done it for?” - -“Primarily,” he answered, “for supper! After supper I shall offer the -Grand Duke any satisfaction which he may desire. Secondarily, here _is_ -the Grand Duke!” - -Even as he spoke my mind was busy; and, as I now perceived with -consternation, O’Hagan had indeed been “pumping” the Grand -Duke—“pumping” him with the cleverness of a very accomplished K.C. I -was amazed; amazed that the Siresian should have fallen so easy a -victim—that even Bernard O’Hagan should have had the stark effrontery -to practise such a deception. - -“If you will excuse me for a few moments more,” said the Grand Duke, “I -will rejoin you for supper.” - -With a cold bow, he left us again. - -“O’Hagan!” I burst out—— - -O’Hagan coughed, and raised his monocle to his eye. - -“—I will not, cannot stay!——” - -O’Hagan coughed again, more urgently, and, across my left shoulder, -seemed to focus something through the pebble. - -“—The supper would choke me!” - -O’Hagan coughed a third time, with bronchial violence, bowed low—as a -Leicester before an Elizabeth—and surreptitiously kicked me shrewdly -upon the shin. - -I spun around sharply. I followed the direction of my friend’s -enraptured gaze. And my eyes rested upon one of the loveliest women I -have ever seen! - - ————— - - - III. - THE MAID AND THE RING. - -I call her a woman, but she can have been no more than seventeen or -eighteen, I think. She was one of those dark, supple Siresian girls who -approach so infinitely nearer to one’s ideal houri of the East than any -really Oriental beauty ever can do. Her great black eyes wandered -nervously from O’Hagan’s face to mine. - -“Tell me!” she cried, in pretty, broken English—“I saw you whispering -together—tell me! You are from Leo?” - -Nipping my arm, O’Hagan bowed again. - -“I knew it!” cried the girl joyously. “Something told me!” - -Good God! at her words, at sight of the mist of gladness, of gratitude, -clouding her beautiful eyes, I could have kicked myself—I could have -attacked O’Hagan nor counted the cost! - -“He is so stupid—the Duke,” she ran on, confidently: “so stupid! He -leaves his coat in there”—she pointed to a distant door—“and -these”—producing a bulky, sealed parcel—“in the pocket!” - -Then she laughed joyously. Her eyes, though, brimmed over with tears. -Her credulity amazed me, of course; but not so greatly as one might -suppose. There is something about O’Hagan that women trust implicitly; -and it is something, I contend, which shall be written to his credit in -the greater Doomsday Book—a real grandeur of soul which all his -surprising superficialities cannot wholly mask. - -Perceive me, then, at this juncture, a man rendered helpless by warring -emotions, conflicting doubts, fears, and a supreme wonderment. - -“Do you think you will be in time?” she pleaded, pressing the packet -into his hands. - -“I hope so, mademoiselle!” he replied. - -His handsome face was stern. He had dropped his monocle, and, with it, I -thought, somewhat of his flippancy. - -“They may think he has turned traitor!” she went on, rapidly: “_he_—who -has given up everything to the Cause! But they will be furious—they -will not reason! Even now, monsieur, they may be condemning him!” - -Her use of the word “monsieur” set me wondering. Her voice broke. Her -brave eyes grew dim. And a lump rose in my throat. For I had perceived -the reality of her trouble, and I think I had never felt a more -despicable scoundrel. I thought that, as a man and a gentleman, I truly -was not worth our united three-and-ninepence! What should I do? How -should I act? Thus, miserably, I searched my inert intelligence; then: - -“Listen,” began my friend, succinctly—“I cannot go among them, because -I am not one of them! Do not be afraid. I am a true friend to the Cause -and to Leo. But how may I reach him?—where do they meet to-night? And -are you certain that he will be there?” - -A shadow—a vague shadow—clouded the girl’s face. Anxiously, intently, -she watched O’Hagan; and this he perceived. - -“Mademoiselle,” he said, with a frank pride which is his peculiar -birthright—“it is not possible that you can mistrust my word! Upon my -honour, I will deliver this packet as you direct, and no man shall -hinder me. But you must tell me where they meet, and how I may gain -admittance.” - -A moment more she hesitated—searching his face with big, anxious eyes. -Then dawned the light of a great resolution; and I knew that she had -determined to trust to her instincts. - -“Here,” she said, hastily pulling a ring from her finger. “Show this to -the woman in the shop before the Café de l’Orient, Greek Street, and say -‘Warsaw.’ You will be admitted. Give the packet to Leo or to the -President; to no one else! Quick! go, I implore you!” - -O’Hagan took the ring, raised the girl’s white fingers to his lips, and -bowed over her hand as over the hand of a queen. It was the farewell of -an old-time courtier and most perfect gentleman—completely -untheatrical, exquisitely dignified. At such moments you perceive in my -friend the ideal cavalier. - -Her face flushed rosily—and paled to a greater pallor. - -In the doorway O’Hagan turned again and bowed. Then, straight downstairs -we hastened—he with the package in an inside pocket—and through to the -street, unquestioned. A taxi-cab had just discharged a visitor at the -door, and O’Hagan detained the man with a short, imperious gesture. - -We leapt in. - -“Café de l’Orient, Greek Street,” said my friend. “Three-and-nine if you -get there in five minutes!” - - ————— - - - IV. - THE CONSPIRATORS. - -The cab having moved on,— - -“I regret,” began O’Hagan, “that we have missed our supper! But I have -triumphantly proven my words anent the survival of Romance. You note -into what a surprising adventure we have blundered merely by honouring a -Grand Duke with our company! Here we have all the elements of a stirring -romance indeed: the autocratic nobleman, the distressed lovers, the ring -as a token! I am delighted, Raymond!” - -“O’Hagan!” I interrupted sternly—“if _you_ are delighted, I am -appalled! Of the deception practised upon the Duke I will say nothing; -but to have tricked a girl who confided——” - -“Stop!” cried O’Hagan imperiously. “Stop there, Raymond! You!—my -friend—and charge me with such a crime! Raymond!——” - -“She thinks,” I interrupted, excitedly—— - -“She thinks,” my friend took me up, “that we are acquainted with her -secrets, and trusts us accordingly. Good. Is her trust misplaced? Do we -intend to betray her? No! ten thousand times no! It is perfectly evident -that her lover—Christian name, Leo; surname, unknown; nationality, -possibly Polish—is involved in some conspiracy directed against a -government—probably that of Russia. Her father, or guardian, our mutual -acquaintance the Duke, had obtained, through the treachery of one -Casimir, proofs of Leo’s complicity. These, we may assume, he intended -to employ—(a) to frustrate Leo’s designs in regard to the lady; (b) to -bring about the arrest, or ruin, of the said Leo. - -“Delightful, my boy! Wildly and picturesquely romantic! Enter Lawrence -Raymond and Bernard O’Hagan—and what becomes of the ducal plan? It -miserably crumbles to dust! Virtue and Love are triumphant, and we are -the heroes of the hour!” - -The cab stopped before a dingy little café. Our entire capital O’Hagan -lavished upon the man, and we entered the café. - -Its front portion proved to consist of a shop where coffee-pots and such -utensils were sold, and behind the counter sat an adipose and unctuous -lady of considerable maturity. O’Hagan’s entrance brought her to her -feet in quick alarm. - -My friend held the ring before her eyes. She viewed it in palpable -wonder, her slightly crooked gaze vacillating betwixt the face of my -cavalierly friend and my own. - -“_Warsaw!_” said O’Hagan, magnificently—and swept his arm toward a -dirty glass-panelled door on our right. - -“Oui, monsieur!” mumbled the old woman; and shuffled around the counter. - -Without properly realising by what stages I had come there, I found -myself standing before the closed door of an upper-floor room. O’Hagan -knocked. A shouted conversation, rising, a harsh _duetto_, above an -angry chorus, ceased abruptly. - -O’Hagan threw wide the door and strode into the room. - -This was small, smelling strongly of stale coffee and caporal -cigarettes, and was illuminated by a gas burner low hung above a square -table. About the table sat eight or ten foreigners—seemingly Russians -or Poles—nearly all of whom leapt to their feet at our appearance. One, -an old man with a venerable white beard, rose with greater dignity, -fixing his brilliant eyes upon my friend. - -O’Hagan rested one hand upon his hip, and with the other held the -monocle an inch or so removed from his right eye. Amid a magnetic -silence: - -“Gentlemen,” he said, with a sort of frigid courtesy—“and good -people—you will favour me by resuming your seats!” - -Of this gracious permission no one availed himself. An angry muttering -arose, and— - -“What is your business?” demanded the venerable chairman, in excellent -English. - -O’Hagan, through upraised glass, studied each face in turn and -attentively. The muttering grew, and grew, and became a simian clamour. -All eyes were turned to my nonchalant friend. - -“My business, monsieur,” he replied—speaking in French, probably with -the idea that the rest of the company would be more likely to understand -him—“is of the utmost gravity.” - -The uproar waxed louder. One swarthy, thickset fellow turned and took a -step in O’Hagan’s direction. O’Hagan raised his glass again—and the -fellow sat down. - -“But,” resumed my friend icily, “until a perfect silence is preserved I -shall not disclose it” (louder uproar than ever); “I am not accustomed -to interruption by the rabble.” - -Silence fell—save that it was a murderous silence. But: - -“Your rebuke is just,” said the aged spokesman, glaring fiercely around. -“I will see to it that you are not interrupted. Your business, -monsieur?” - -“It is,” replied O’Hagan, “to denounce a traitor!” - -At that a perfect howl went up. Chairs crashed back upon the floor; and -the discussion, which evidently had been interrupted by our entrance, -was now resumed with renewed violence. All eyes turned upon a dark young -man sitting on the right of the chairman. His handsome, aristocratic -face was deathly pale, and his fine nostrils quivered with some emotion -hardly repressed. - -“Silence!” roared the chairman, in clarion tones, and struck his fist -upon the table with a resounding bang. “Silence! Are you mad, that you -dispute with strangers present!” He glared about him ominously. “Again, -monsieur”—to O’Hagan—“what is your business?” - -O’Hagan paused awhile, staring down a man who continued to mutter -rapidly to his right-hand neighbour. Then— - -“The letters and photographs,” began my friend, as one whose patience -wearies—— - -But yet again he was interrupted, and now, by the dark young man; who -leapt from his place, a hectic flush colouring his pale cheeks. - -“You have them, monsieur?” he cried, holding his outstretched hands -towards us. “God! you have them?” - -O’Hagan: - -“I have just recovered them from the apartments of the Grand Duke John!” - -High heaven! Never can I forget the shriek of execration that greeted -the name of the Grand Duke! We seemed, in a moment, to be surrounded by -fiends of the uttermost darkness. They mowed and gibbered like animal -things. Only the dark young fellow retained any self-control—sinking -back upon his chair and biting his lip. But his eyes were glad; and by -his eyes it was that I knew him for Leo. - -“Silence!” came the mighty voice again. And the terrible old man glared -about him, quelling his unruly compatriots like a pack of dogs. “Hand me -those letters, monsieur.” - -O’Hagan, amid another throbbing stillness, produced the package. - -“Am I addressing,” he inquired, “the gentleman known as the President?” - -“I am the President, monsieur,” he was answered. - -My friend passed the package to the old man. Rapidly, the latter broke -the seals and examined the contents. Intense expectancy was written upon -every face. It seemed that life or death hung upon the result of his -examination. This, however was brief. Placing the bundle upon the table -before him— - -“Brothers,” he said, with some emotion, “a great danger is -providentially averted. All are here!” - -Something in his look suppressed the mighty shout almost ere it left the -throats of the shouters. - -“You said, monsieur,” he continued, turning his eyes upon O’Hagan, “that -you would denounce to us a traitor. I do not know who you are nor whence -you come; but you have to-night done that which shows you a friend. You -have saved the lives—and more than the lives—of some who never forget, -and who will be grateful while they have hearts that beat. Your actions -prove you: your words shall be respected. Name the traitor amongst us, -monsieur.” - -The simple dignity of the old man’s speech and manner impressed me -immensely, but the eyes that glared from all around the table were not -pleasant to see. - -“For what I have done,” said O’Hagan slowly, “I claim a reward: the -immunity of the man I shall denounce!” - -The necessity for the words was rendered evident by the negative yell -which answered them; it was, however, immediately checked by the -President. - -“The reward you claim is a high one, monsieur,” he said, “and wholly -contrary to the rules of our Order! But the service you have rendered is -beyond all human recompense. Therefore I grant your request.” - -Some few murmurs arose; but a glance from the fiery old eyes restored -complete silence. - -“The traitor,” announced O’Hagan, “is called Casimir!” - -“You lie!” screamed a man wearing a short, red beard, leaping madly to -his feet. “Curse you! you lie!” - -O’Hagan focussed him through the monocle. - -“I was with the Grand Duke when you handed him the packet,” he said, -with a sort of suppressed ferocity—“you brick-dust baboon!” - -“You were not!” shrieked the other. “The Grand Duke was alone——!” - -He stopped. His florid face blanched to a mottled white, and he dropped -back, the picture of a rogue unmasked. Then: - -“You see, monsieur,” said O’Hagan to the President, “I have indicated -your traitor and he has condemned himself; for the Grand Duke _was_ -alone!” - -I expected a veritable pandemonium to burst upon us; but my expectation -was not realised. The man seated beside Casimir turned, and with a cold -smile, but blazing eyes, struck him deliberately across the face with -his open hand. The outraged rascal bounded again to his feet; but a look -around the silent company was enough. One quick glance he directed -toward the old man, who stood with finger rigidly pointed to the door, -and, head bent, he shuffled past us—and was gone. - -Then, certainly, a scene of the wildest enthusiasm ensued. Everybody -present seemed bent upon embracing Leo; but, escaping from his excited -fellows, he came and took both O’Hagan’s hands in his own, turning then -to me, and shaking mine as warmly. - -“Gentlemen,” he said, in very fair English, “I will not attempt to thank -you. I only thank God that there are such as you in the world!” - -“Devilish embarrassing!” O’Hagan confessed to me, later, “considering -the real objective of the expedition—_id est_: supper!” - -“Here,” said my friend, “is something to which you have a better claim -than I.” He handed Leo the ring. “To that brave lady you owe everything, -sir; to us, nothing.” - -“She will always bless you,” said the other, kissing the ring -reverently—“as I bless her! I do not know your names, gentlemen—nor, -in the circumstances, ask them. But if ever Fate should lead you to -Poland, the home of Count Leo Riersiwicz is _your_ home.” - -“Quite a charming little adventure,” said O’Hagan, as we passed -westward; “save that one cannot sympathise with any man who elects to -associate with such a crew of undesirable pole-cats.” - -Two peers, a newspaper proprietor, and an actor-manager waited upon the -kerb of Oxford Circus, whilst ’bus drivers, draymen, vanmen on vans and -other impossibles, drove by. O’Hagan’s procedure on occasions of this -kind is a joy unique and a memory ineffaceable. - -Regardless of the direction, language, behaviour, or wishes of such -persons, he proceeds across the road at the same dignified and even pace -which he had observed upon the pavement. With dray horses standing on -their hind-legs and waving their fore-legs over his picturesque head, -with taxi-cabs menacing plate-glass windows, and motor ’busses hastily -diverting their routes, he pauses to light an Egyptian cigarette. - -Having returned his gold matchbox to his waistcoat pocket, unruffled he -pursues his way, the only extant example of the _grand seigneur_. - - The End - - - - - This edition is limited to 1,000 copies. - - - - - In Memoriam—Sax Rohmer - 1883-1959 - - - - - TRANSCRIBER NOTES - -Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. 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