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diff --git a/8138-8.txt b/8138-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed4ba2c --- /dev/null +++ b/8138-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3755 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of War-time Silhouettes, by Stephen Hudson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: War-time Silhouettes + +Author: Stephen Hudson + + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8138] +This file was first posted on June 17, 2003 +Last Updated: May 12, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR-TIME SILHOUETTES *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Marlo Dianne, Charles Franks and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + +WAR-TIME SILHOUETTES + + +By Stephen Hudson + + + + +CONTENTS + +I. MR. REISS'S FINAL GRIEVANCE + +II. IN THE TRUE INTEREST OF THE NATION + +III. WAR WORK + +IV. BUSINESS IS BUSINESS + +V. "BOBBY" + +VI. A WAR VICTIM + +VII. DULCE ET DECORUM + + + + +I. MR. REISS'S FINAL GRIEVANCE + +Mr. Adolf Reiss, merchant, sits alone on a gloomy December afternoon. +He gazes into the fire with jaundiced eyes reflecting on his grievance +against Life. The room is furnished expensively but arranged without +taste, and it completely lacks home atmosphere. Mr. Reiss's room is, +like himself, uncomfortable. The walls are covered with pictures, but +their effect is unpleasing; perhaps this is because they were bought +by him as reputed bargains, sometimes at forced sales of bankrupt +acquaintances Making and thinking about money has not left Mr. Reiss +time to consider comfort, but for Art, in the form of pictures and +other saleable commodities, he has a certain respect. Such things if +bought judiciously have been known to increase in value in the most +extraordinary manner, and as this generally happens long after their +creators are dead, he leaves living artists severely alone. The essence +of successful speculation is to limit your liability. + +Mr. Reiss is a short, stoutish, ungainly man past seventy, and he suffers +from chronic indigestion. He is one of those people of whom it is +difficult to believe that they ever were young. + +But it is not on account of these disadvantages that Mr. Reiss considers +himself ill treated by Fate. It is because since the War he regards +himself as a ruined man. Half his fortune remains; but Mr. Reiss, though +he hates the rich, despises the merely well-off. Of a man whose income +would generally be considered wealth he says, "Bah! He hasn't a penny." +Below this level every one is "a pauper"; now he rather envies such +pitiable people because "they've got nothing to lose." His philosophy +of life is simple to grasp, and he can never understand why so many +people refuse to accept it. If they did, he thinks that the world would +not be such an unpleasant place to live in. Life in his opinion is +simply a fight for money. All the trouble in the world is caused by +the want of it, all the happiness man requires can be purchased with +it. Those who think the contrary are fools, and if they go to the length +of professing indifference to money they are "humbugs." + +"Humbug" and "Bunkum" are favourite words of his. He generally dismisses +remarks and stops discussion by the use of either or both. His solitary +term of praise is the word "respectable" and he uses it sparingly, +being as far as he can conscientiously go in approval of any one; he +thus eulogizes those who live within their means and have never been +known to be hard up. People who are hard up are "wasters." No one has +any business to be hard up; "respectable" men live on what they've +got. If any one were to ask him how people are to live within their +means when they've not got any, he would reply with the word "bunkum" +and clinch the argument with a grunt. It will be understood that +conversation with Mr. Adolf Reiss is not easy. + + * * * * * + +A knock on the door. Mr. Reiss's servant announces some one and +withdraws. + +Intuitively Mr. Reiss, who is rather deaf, and has not caught the name, +grasps the paper and hides behind it. From long experience he has +discovered the utility of the newspaper as a sort of parapet +behind which he can better await attack. + +A slight figure in khaki advances into the room, observes the newspaper +above the legs and smiles slightly. + +"Hello, uncle!" It's a fresh young voice. + +Mr. Reiss grunts, slowly lowers the paper and gazes at the youth over +his eyeglasses. + +"Oh, it's you. When did you come up?" + +"Just arrived, uncle. We're ordered out. I thought I'd look you up +at once as there are one or two things--" + +"Eh--what?" + +Among Mr. Reiss's characteristics is a disconcerting habit of making +people repeat their remarks. This is deliberate and its purpose +twofold--to gain time and to embarrass the person addressed. + +The young fellow sits down rather uncomfortably and begins again-- + +"We're ordered out, you know--" + +"No, I didn't know. How could I? You never write--" + +Mr. Reiss consolidates his defence with the pretence of a grievance. + +"I didn't know myself until yesterday. They don't give one much time, +you know." + +"They--who?" + +"The War Office people. You see, our first battalion has had a lot +of casualties and three of us subs are being taken from the third. +We've got to join the day after to-morrow. Bit of a rush. And I've +got things to get. I'm afraid I must ask you to give me a leg up, uncle. +I'm a bit short--" + +"Short? Why, you've got an ample allowance besides your pay and the +Government pays for your outfit at an extravagant rate." Mr. Reiss +never ceases denouncing the extravagance of the Government. He now +adjusts his glasses and glowers at the youngster, who fidgets under +the scrutiny. "Yes, I know. I--" he stammers. + +"Well--well?" + +"The fact is--when Staples, our captain, went back--he--I--" + +A grunt. Then, "Eh--what?" + +"He was engaged, you know." + +"Well--well?" irritably. + +"I can't explain, uncle, if you don't give me a chance." + +Another grunt. + +"Jimmie--I mean Staples--wanted to give his girl a ring before he went +back. He hadn't enough money--so I lent him fifty pounds." + +Mr. Reiss drops his glasses, gets up from his chair, and stands before +the fire, facing his nephew. + +"So you lent him fifty pounds, did you? A third of your annual allowance. +You had no business to--and if Captain Whatever's-his-name were a +respectable man, he would have saved the money to pay for the ring. +Instead of that _I_ have to pay for it." + +"Oh no, uncle." + +"How d'you mean--'no, uncle'? Aren't you asking me for money? It's +always the same story with the lot of you. You like to be generous +at other people's expense. I've told you I'm a ruined man. The fortune +which was the result of my hard work all my life has disappeared. I'm +a poor man. I spend nothing on myself. I've given up my car. I've put +down everything. I'm trying to dispose of my pictures and to sell the +lease of this place. You don't seem to understand what this infernal +war means to people like myself. _You_ don't have to pay for it. +Do you realize that one-third of my entire income goes for income +tax? I've paid your bills over and over again, but I can't do it any +more. For this once I'll--" The boy holds up his hand. + +"Look here, uncle. I'd better tell you at once. I shall need another +fifty to make me square. But I'll pay you back--on my honour--" + +"Bah! Your honour! Pay me back. I know what that means. So it's a hundred +pounds you want. Very well. You shall have your hundred pounds. But +I solemnly warn you that it's the last penny I intend to pay for your +extravagance. As for that waster of a Captain What's-his--" + +The boy flushes to the roots of his light, wavy hair. + +"I say, uncle. He's not a waster. He's the finest fellow in the regiment. +I can't allow you--Look here--never mind the money. The jeweller knows +it's all right. I'd rather--" + +He stops. The words won't come. He gazes at his uncle helplessly. Mr. +Reiss goes slowly to the writing-table and sits down. Taking a blank +cheque from a pocket-book he always carries, he fills it in and passes +it to the boy without speaking. + +"I don't like taking it, uncle. I don't, really--" + +Mr. Reiss half turns round. He still says nothing, he does not even +grunt. He knows that there are times when silence is golden. Moreover, +he knows that money talks. + +A few minutes later Mr. Adolf Reiss is again sitting alone, gazing +into the fire. And he has another grievance against Life. + + * * * * * + +The philosophy of Mr. Reiss is a natural result of his early environment. +In Magdeburg, where he was born and brought up, education in business +principles is combined with the theory of family duty. Whether this +theory takes the place of affection or not, its application in the +case of Mr. Reiss resulted in his migration at an early age to England, +where he soon found a market for his German industry, his German +thriftiness, and his German astuteness. He established a business and +took out naturalization papers. Until the War came Mr. Reiss was growing +richer and richer. His talent for saving kept pace with his gift for +making. + +He spent evening after evening, when he came home from the +City, thinking out different ways of tying up his fortune on Percy, +so that it could remain intact as long as possible. Some of his schemes +for insuring the safety of his capital, for the resettlement of the +greater part of the income by trustees--for combining, in fact, a maximum +of growing power for the fortune with a minimum of enjoyment for the +heir--were really marvels of ingenuity. + +But since the War his thoughts have taken a different turn. Half his +fortune has gone. He is too old now to catch up again. It's all over +with money-making. The most he can hope for is to keep "the little +that is left." If only Percy had been older and had a son, he could +settle the money upon his great-nephew. Then there would have been +time for the money to accumulate again. + +And now he's gone to the Front. He might be killed. It doesn't bear +thinking about. He has toiled all his life. Surely after _all_ +his self-sacrifice and self-denial he is not to be robbed of the one +satisfaction he asks for, to know that the beggarly remains of his +wealth shall be safe after his own death. + +Every day he scans the papers anxiously. His one preoccupation is the +daily casualty list. + + * * * * * + +Spring is at hand, and though there is chill in the air Mr. Reiss is +economical and sits before an empty grate. Self-mortification always +seems to him to be evidence of moral superiority and to confirm his +right to special grievances. He is reading a letter over again received +that morning from Percy. It bears the stamp of the Base Censor and +is some days old. + + +DEAR UNCLE ADOLF, + +You remember my friend Jimmy Staples--the one I told you about, who +was engaged and I lent that money to? Well, he's been killed, or rather +he has just died of wounds. He has done splendidly. Our Brigadier had +sent in his name for a V.C. I'll tell you all about it when I see you. +But what I wanted to say is that it's all right about the money. I've +got lots in the bank now, and in another couple of months I shall be +able to pay you back. One can't spend anything much out here. I'm quite +fit, but I'm rather in the blues about Jimmy. Mother will give you +all my news. + +Your affectionate Nephew. + +P.S.--By the way, I gave your name as nearest relative in case of +accidents, to save mother. + + +Mr. Reiss has a curious and unaccustomed feeling of flatness as he +re-reads the letter. Somehow or other he does not want Percy to pay +him back that fifty pounds. He thinks he'll write and tell him so at +once. + +He sits down at the writing-table--the same one at which he had +written the cheque the last time he saw Percy. The scene comes back +to him with a strange vividness as he dips his pen in the ink. He +hesitates a moment before beginning the letter. Was there anything he +could say that would please Percy? He has a curious and at the same time +a strong desire to do something now--at once. He has never felt like this +before. Supposing he were to--A knock on the door. His servant brings in a +telegram. Why do Mr. Reiss's fingers tremble so? Why does Mr. Reiss begin +cleaning his glasses before he opens the envelope? + +He holds the pink paper under the lamp. + + +Deeply regret to inform you.... + + +Mr. Adolf Reiss does not need to read farther, and now he has a final +grievance against Life. + + + + +II. IN THE TRUE INTEREST OF THE NATION + +Sir Matthew Bale, baronet and Member of Parliament, appears to be, +at first sight, a distinguished person. When you know him better, you +ask yourself what misled you, and you reconsider his personality. Careful +scrutiny reveals that he is a skilful imitation. On the other hand, +he is not just a façade, for there is will behind the mask. His imitation +is, in fact, the result of an endeavour to be, not merely to appear, +distinguished, and he fails because, while the manner is there, the +moral qualities which should support it are not. Though he does not +know it, this failure to realize his own ideal of himself is the fly +in the amber. Sir Matthew was an ambitious man, and believed that all +that was necessary in order to "arrive" was to will it sufficiently. +Up to a point his career supports his theory, but not altogether; for +while, considering where he began, he has climbed to a considerable +height, Sir Matthew is very far from satisfied with his position. + +Sir Matthew is wily, but he is not able, and he is exceedingly ignorant; +this ignorance even extends to matters in which he is directly and +personally interested. In most men this defect would have proved an +insuperable obstacle to success, but it has not been so with Sir Matthew +because he is aware of his own shortcomings, and when he can't do a +thing himself he is exceedingly good at getting some one to do it for +him. + +Nobody knows anything about his origin, but he began to make his +living at an early age, and while still in the twenties he was doing +well as a bookmaker. + +Reggy Dumbarton owed him a good deal more money than he could ever +have paid, so, on reflection, Bale turned his back on bookmaking and +started finance with large plate-glass windows in Threadneedle Street, +and Lord Reginald Dumbarton as junior (very junior) partner. + +The Dumbarton connection made the new office a rendezvous for young +bloods whose profession in life it is to induce their friends to +cultivate a taste for speculative investment. The growth of the business +demanding a wider financial knowledge than Bale's bookmaking experience +could supply, his discriminating eye discovered a promising additional +partner in the person of Maurice Blum, who had survived two startling +bankruptcies and an action against him for fraud. Bale, Dumbarton, +and Blum now did so thriving a business that Bale started an elegantly +appointed flat in Mayfair, drove a phaeton and pair (it was before +the days of motors), and was much about town with gentlemen of family +to whom his partnership with Dumbarton afforded a useful and easy +introduction. An indication that at this time he was among the minor +celebrities may be found in the fact that a flattering caricature of +him appeared in _Vanity Fair_. + +When his engagement was announced to Dumbarton's cousin, Lady Ermyntrude +Stanley-Dalrymple, elder daughter of Lord Belfast, a social personage +and a power in the inner councils of the Conservative Party, it was +suggested that there might be some connection between this rather +unexpected event and Lord Belfast's heavy losses on the Stock Exchange +and subsequent directorships and holdings of shares in his future +son-in-law's companies. Whether this supposition was well founded or +not, it can be said with certainty that Bale had secured at one stroke +a footing in society and in politics, for shortly after his marriage +to Lady Ermyntrude his father-in-law found him a safe seat in Parliament. + +Meanwhile Mr. Maurice Blum, who in the absence of his chief partner +had been looking after himself as well as the business, presented an +ultimatum. If Mr. Bale wanted to be a politician, Blum had no objection, +but that meant, at all events at first, spending money instead of making +it, and under the circumstances the terms of the partnership must be +modified. + +This was the nastiest blow Bale had yet received. He had regarded Blum +as his creature, and his resentment at what he considered his partner's +treachery was deep. But his prudence and astuteness did not fail him; +he knew Blum's value, and he was aware that even if he were himself +able to spare the time from his political activities, his knowledge +was not sufficient to enable him to manage the growing business of +the firm. + +In Bale's view wealth is a necessary accompaniment of +distinction. He longed to be aristocratically indifferent to money, +and it humiliated him that not only was he not rich, but that to keep +up the style of living his position demanded involved no inconsiderable +strain. And, as a matter of fact, his financial position was precarious +and depended entirely upon the fluctuating and speculative income he +derived from the business of Blum & Co. Obviously, therefore, Mr. Maurice +Blum was not a person with whom Bale could afford to quarrel. Wherefore +he mastered his resentment and accepted the change of the name of the +firm to Blum & Co., and the incidental reduction of his income that +change implied with a smile on his face in spite of the bitterness +in his heart. + +To a man less adroit than he, the change in the partnership +might well have constituted a serious check in his upward career, but +once more Bale's native resourcefulness asserted itself. This crisis +in his private affairs took place when the country was torn by +dissensions over Tariff Reform. He had early learnt to fish in troubled +waters, and the political upheaval gave him his opportunity; he promptly +crossed the floor of the House and obtained, without paying for it, a +baronetcy as his reward. + + * * * * * + +Sir Matthew Bale is tall and slender; his head is well placed on his +shoulders, he has clear-cut features, a firm mouth with excellent teeth, +and is clean-shaven. Although he is over fifty, he has plenty of hair, +originally sandy, but now tinged with grey, which he parts at the side +and brushes straight back from the forehead. He dresses with a certain +quiet elegance, and he has a way of drawing down his cuffs as he talks +to you, and of placing the tips of his fingers together so that you +notice his nicely kept nails. He speaks in a low tone, which he only +raises when he forgets himself, and relies for emphasis on little +restrained gestures adopted by him, together with other tricks of speech +and manner, from his wife's male relations. In this he is unconscious +of imitation, for he is by nature adaptable and his desire to be +identified with the aristocracy is instinctive. + +He has now associated himself with the extreme Radical and Labour wing, +where it flatters his vanity to think he is regarded as an elegant +exotic. A constant saying of his is "Keep your eye on labour," but, +though they don't say so, the Labour Members keep their eye on him +and regard his advances with distrust. + +He has been active on departmental committees, and has on occasion +served as chairman. It did not need a long experience to teach him +that whatever the ostensible object of these convenient arrangements +may be, their usual purpose is to throw dust in the eyes of the public, +to burke discussion, and to save the face of embarrassed ministers. +Therefore, whenever he was appointed, his first step was invariably +to make certain what the wish of the minister was who nominated him. + +Possessing such qualities it was no surprise to those who knew the +considerations involved when he was made chairman of the Government +Committee "to consider and report on the measures to be adopted during +the war with reference to the commercial, industrial, and financial +interests of British subjects in neutral countries." + +This was by far the most important committee over which Sir Matthew +had ever presided, and he cherished the hope that by means of it he +might secure the immediate desire of his heart, a Privy Councillorship; +once a "Right Honourable" he could aspire to anything--a seat in the +Cabinet, or, if Blum & Co. prospered, a peerage even. Sir Matthew's +heart leaped at the thought of a coronet. + + * * * * * + +About this time Oswald Tarleton was sent for by his chief, and informed +that he had been selected for the secretaryship of Sir Matthew Bale's +committee. + +"This is a very weighty committee, Mr. Tarleton," said the permanent +secretary of the department. "The Government's policy in regard to +enemy trading and proceedings under the Defence of the Realm Act will +largely depend upon the result of its deliberations. In Sir Matthew +Bale I have every reason for believing that you will find a most able, +and at the same time a most agreeable, chairman." + +Oswald Tarleton went off delighted. Although he had been for twenty +years a highly conscientious departmental official, and had received +nothing but praise for his services, he was too much a gentleman to +push himself, and this modesty had resulted in his never being given +an opportunity of showing how competent a public servant he really was. + +Now, Tarleton is an honest man and something of an idealist. His +first interview with Sir Matthew Bale made him open his eyes wider +than ever in his life before. + +The chairman settled himself in his chair opposite his secretary, pulled +down his cuffs, put the tips of his fingers together, and held forth. + +"Mr. Tarleton, we have got to make a success of this committee. I need +hardly tell you how important it is and that upon it depend vital +questions of Government policy. I am not going too far in saying that +the future of the Government itself depends to a large extent upon +the guidance which we shall be able to afford them as the result of +our labours." + +Sir Matthew, as a rule, expressed himself badly, but he had been at +pains to prepare a little set speech with which to impress his secretary, +who now sat looking at him, silently meditating over the pompous +utterance, and wondering what was coming next. + +"I understand, Mr. Tarleton," the chairman continued, "that you have +not hitherto had any experience as secretary of committees?" + +"Oh yes, Sir Matthew, excuse me--" + +"I mean," interrupted the chairman, "of Government committees. Now, +this one has been appointed by the Prime Minister himself, and I think +I may say, without indiscretion that he has largely consulted me as +to its composition. The--er--terms of reference will indicate to you +that the subject of our deliberations is a delicate one, and that it +will be necessary for us to remember that a grave responsibility rests +upon us in the selection of our witnesses. In other words, Mr. +Tarleton"--the chairman leaned back in his seat and scrutinized his +secretary--"we must, in the true interest of the nation--for of course +that is the paramount consideration--be careful to avoid anything in +the nature of disclosures which at this critical juncture +might--er--undermine the--er--confidence which rightly is reposed in +the Government. D'you follow me, Mr. Tarleton?" + +The secretary hesitated for a moment. + +"Do you mean, Sir Matthew, that we are not to accept evidence--" + +"I mean, Mr. Tarleton, that we must discriminate in the selection of +our witnesses before we decide to call them. You are aware, perhaps, that +I am in the confidence of the Labour Party, and you will notice that +Amongst the members of the committee there are three prominent Labour +Members. Now you will understand that--er--er--while I have the +greatest--er--respect for the views of these--er--er--gentlemen, +there are limits to the influence I possess with them, and it is in +the highest degree desirable that no witness should come before them who +would be likely to prejudice in their eyes those who--er--indirectly +perhaps have--er--associations or connections--er--political or +otherwise, in the highest quarters." + +"But excuse me, Sir Matthew, I thought--" + +"No 'buts,' Mr. Tarleton; no thoughts except on the lines indicated by +me." + +Oswald Tarleton withdrew from this preliminary interview with mingled +feelings, but uppermost there was already vaguely forming itself in his +mind a profound distrust, and still more a cordial dislike, of Sir +Matthew Bale. + + * * * * * + +A recent and somewhat acrimonious debate in the House of Commons had +Precipitated the formation of this committee, and had unduly hastened the +selection of its members. Sir Matthew had been called in at short notice +as being, in the opinion of the minister who had been under criticism, +the most pliant chairman available. + +The proceedings of the Committee were to be hurried on as much as +possible. This much Tarleton had gathered from his departmental chief, +and there was no doubt that he would have his hands full. He had had +opportunity of gauging the political qualities of Sir Matthew Bale; +at his next interview he was enabled to form an opinion of his +administrative methods. He was again seated opposite the chairman, who +leaned back in his chair with an air of indolent ease. Tarleton was +pointing out to him the considerable difficulty there would be in +staffing the committee owing to the demands upon the department through +the War. There was also, he explained, the troublesome question of +securing accommodation, for which there was no room at the Government +Office. Sir Matthew loftily waved aside these difficulties. + +"As to accommodation, Mr. Tarleton," he said, "just tell the Office of +Works that it is the Prime Minister's wish that I should have every +facility, and as to staff, look at these." As he spoke he touched a +bundle of papers which lay on the table. "You have choice enough there, +Mr. Tarleton." + +Tarleton had seen the papers; in fact, he had placed them on the table +Himself after carefully going through them. They were applications from +all sorts of individuals offering their voluntary services. There were +letters from retired officers, judges, tea-planters, cowboys, fellows of +the Universities--in fact, the usual heterogeneous collection with which +those who have Government work to do are familiar since the War. + +"It is very doubtful, Sir Matthew, whether any of these gentlemen would +be suitable for this sort of work. You will, I am sure, understand that a +certain training--" + +"Oh, never mind the training, Mr. Tarleton. I'll soon select somebody for +you--let me have a look through them. Now, here's one--this is the sort +of man that I like; he telegraphs--he doesn't write. A man with +individuality--an original mind. Try him." + +"Excuse me, Sir Matthew, have you noticed the name?" + +Sir Matthew put on his eyeglass and examined the telegram. + +"Louis Klein," he read, "and a very good name too--what's the matter with +it?" + +"D'you think it advisable, Sir Matthew, in the present state of public +opinion--" + +"Public opinion, Mr. Tarleton, means the Press, and that doesn't concern +_us_. The true interests of the nation are our concern, and in this +case I see no reason whatever why, because this man's name is Klein--As a +matter of fact, when I was dining with a member of the Cabinet a few +evenings ago, I met a most charming person called Schmerz, and, I have +reason for knowing, a most loyal subject. Indeed, I understand that my +friend the minister finds his advice most useful in certain cases. No, +no, by all means send for this Mr. Klein--let's have a look at him." + + * * * * * + +Mr. Klein arrived, and Oswald Tarleton was not favourably impressed by +him. He had thick features and a generally unattractive appearance; he +spoke, too, with an accent which Tarleton distrusted, although Klein +assured him that he was a French Alsatian, and as proof thereof showed +the secretary a letter from the French Embassy which vouched for his +being a devoted citizen of the Republic. Sir Matthew entirely approved of +him. + +"Just the man we want, Mr. Tarleton. Make him assistant secretary. +That'll flatter him--then ask anything you like of him and he'll do it. +That's my way." + + * * * * * + +Presently Klein was installed and Tarleton soon found him a most +assiduous and useful assistant. Without the loss of a moment he got into +touch with various chiefs of subsidiary departments and obtained +stenographers and typewriters, clerks and porters. Urged by Sir Matthew, +he harried the Office of Works till they provided ample accommodation in +a fine building in a central position; from H.M. Stationery Office he +promptly ordered all sorts of indispensable supplies, and within an +incredibly short time Sir Matthew found himself installed in sumptuous +offices with a fine committee-room and everything in as perfect order as +even he could desire. Tarleton was compelled to admit that Klein had +proved to be an acquisition. + +"What did I tell you?" cried Sir Matthew triumphantly. "Trust me to find +the right man, Mr. Tarleton, trust me. I always believe in demanding the +impossible and I generally get it. If you're modest, you get left." + +Tarleton could vouch for the truth of this observation, and he disliked +the chairman more than ever. + +In due course the committee held its first sitting. On Sir Matthew's +right sat Lord Milford, a wealthy peer of independent political opinions +and great obtuseness, by whose social prestige Sir Matthew was greatly +impressed; on his left Mr. Doubleday, the leader of the Labour Party +in the House of Commons. Ranged on either side, according to their +importance, sat the various other members of the committee. + +Sir Matthew's opening address, written for him by Tarleton, met with an +Excellent reception, and the proceedings developed smoothly. + + * * * * * + +As the weeks passed the work of the committee increased, especially that +part of it which fell to the staff. Tarleton was worked off his legs. In +committee Sir Matthew was indisputably an adroit chairman. He knew how to +assert himself on occasion and play off the members against each other, +and he showed the dexterity of a conjurer in manipulating evidence. But +outside the committee-room, entirely absorbed by the decorative side +of his position, he talked and talked from morning till evening. Beyond +receiving important persons, he did nothing. He was as incapable of +composing a letter as of making a speech, and Tarleton had to write +both for him. He would arrive in the morning when Tarleton was trying to +get on with urgent correspondence or to frame questions to be asked of +witnesses, and so take up his unfortunate secretary's time that it was +almost impossible for him to get his work finished for the next meeting. +He made the most exacting demands upon his overworked staff, showing as +little consideration for them as he did grasp of the mass of detail they +had to get through between committee meetings. Indeed, had it not been +for the industrious energy of Klein, who had relieved him of practically +all the routine work, ordinary correspondence and office supervision, +Tarleton had to admit to himself that it would have been beyond his power +to carry on. + +As the proceedings of the committee advanced, Sir Matthew's opinion of +his own importance increased, and Tarleton's dislike of him grew into +hatred. Gentle, unassuming, and sensitive, he had never so far +encountered an individual like Sir Matthew Bale, who outraged all +his finer feelings and susceptibilities a dozen times a day. And the +secretary swore between his teeth that if he ever got the chance of +tripping him up, once the committee was done with, he would take good +care not to miss it. + +Klein, on the other hand, grew in Tarleton's esteem, and he felt he had +done him an injustice, for which he was determined to atone if occasion +offered. + +The industry of the Alsatian was equalled by his perspicacity; he soon +fathomed the intentions of the chairman and understood that the chief +purpose of the committee was the exact opposite of that which its flowing +terms of reference were intended to convey. + +In a small room, as far as possible removed from the one in which the +committee had their meetings, Klein sat like a mole delving into +documents and preparing the interim report for which the Government had +been pressed in Parliament. Here, when the day was over and Sir Matthew +had at last taken his departure, Tarleton would join him. It frequently +happened that they did not finish their labours until nearly midnight. +On such occasions Tarleton would go to his club to dine, whilst Klein +would make his way to some neighbouring restaurant, but after a time the +two men seemed to draw nearer to each other, until one day Tarleton +suggested that Klein should dine with him. Over a cigar in the club +smoking-room, the secretary for the first time expressed himself freely +to his colleague. + +"I feel I ought to tell you, Klein, that at first I was foolish enough to +feel a little--" + +He broke off, hesitating to use a word which might hurt the other's +feelings. + +"I know exactly what you mean, Tarleton, and I do not in the least blame +you. You are probably not aware that many of us Alsatians have German +names, but if you knew more of my life you would know what good cause I +have for hating the Germans more than any Englishman can possibly hate +them. Some day, perhaps, I shall have a chance of telling you." + +Klein's eyes flashed under their drooping lids. Tarleton warmed to him +and began to talk about the committee and especially about the chairman. + +"This has been a tremendous eye-opener to me, Klein," he said. "I must +tell you that, in my innocence, I never imagined that the proceedings of +a committee could be conducted in such a fashion. I must confess I do not +understand the object of it." + +Klein smiled significantly. + +"I do," he remarked. + +"What do you mean, Klein?" + +"It is quite simple. There are things which the Government does not +desire to be known, and that is why they selected a man like Bale for +chairman. You see, Tarleton, we're accustomed to that sort of thing in +France." + +"But we aren't," remarked Tarleton, "and I think it's--something ought to +be done," he added. + +"Something can be done," said Klein. + +"How?" + +"I suppose you've heard of Blum & Co.?" + +The secretary stared at him. "No, I've never heard of them." + +"Well, Blum & Co. is Sir Matthew's firm, and Mr. Blum would be an +exceedingly interesting witness." + +Tarleton almost jumped out of his chair. "Good Lord!" he said excitedly, +"you don't mean--" + +"I mean just exactly that," Klein continued in his heavy way. "Moritz +Blum is Bale's partner, and he's one of the biggest scamps in the City. +Now supposing I give the tip to a member of the committee to call him." + +Tarleton could hardly believe his ears. Here was retribution for Sir +Matthew with a vengeance! But he hesitated. + +"Would it be square, do you think? I mean, wouldn't it be treacherous +towards the chairman?" + +"That seems to depend upon which you put first--the chairman or the +country. For my part, the only thing that matters is that if we are able +to expose anything that helps the enemy, we should do so, and here's our +chance." + +"D'you really mean that, Klein?" + +"Mean it? Of course I mean it. Blum & Co. are amongst the largest +shareholders in the Swedenborg Coal and Iron Smelting Company, in +Stockholm; they have sold and are selling thousands of tons of +pig-iron to the German Government. What do you say to that?" + +"How on earth do you know?" ejaculated Tarleton almost breathlessly. + +Klein fixed his eyes on the other significantly. + +"I haven't been in the City for twelve years for nothing," he answered. + +"It's a difficult position for me." Tarleton spoke reflectively. "Loyalty +to one's chairman is a tradition in the Government service. And though I +despise Bale, I don't see my way to expose him. You see, it means the +ruin of all his hopes." + +"_Tant pis pour lui_. Doesn't he always say himself our first duty +is to consider the true interest of the nation? Now, is it in the true +interest of the nation that the Germans should get this pig-iron? Tell me +that, Tarleton." + +The secretary made no reply. Indeed, none was needed, for the answer was +obvious. + + * * * * * + +Two days later there was an important meeting of the committee, at which +a full attendance had been specially requested by the chairman. A +question had been raised at the previous sitting by one of the Labour +Members who had desired to hear certain evidence, but the witness had +suddenly left the country. The Labour Members had withdrawn to discuss +the matter privately, and on their return showed that their suspicions +had been aroused. On a motion by the chairman the meeting had been +adjourned for four days. + +All Sir Matthew's resourcefulness had been needed to avert for the time +further discussion. Before the next meeting he and the minister involved +would get together and discover a means of putting inconvenient +questioners off the scent. + +The committee took their seats. The chairman now spoke in his smoothest +tone, his manner was genial and urbane. He smiled towards Mr. Small, the +recalcitrant committee-man, as he glanced at the notes under his hand +prepared by Tarleton. + +"Gentlemen, at the last meeting my friend Mr. Small took exception to the +fact that a certain witness had--er--left the country--er--before we had +an opportunity of examining him. I have to inform you--er--er--that +certain facts have come to light regarding this witness +which--er--preclude our going any further into the matter. The fact is, +gentlemen"--Sir Matthew; lowered his voice significantly--"he is a +particular friend of the--er--er--diplomatic representative of a friendly +Power, and I think you will agree with me that in the circumstances we +had better drop any further discussion of this subject and direct the +précis-writer to expunge the report of such part of our proceedings as +relate to it from our minutes." + +To Sir Matthew's surprise no dissentient voice was raised. The resolution +was agreed to unanimously, and once more he congratulated himself on the +skill with which he had disposed of an awkward dilemma. + +"And now, gentlemen, we will call the next witness. Mr. Tarleton, will +you kindly--" + +"One moment please, Sir Matthew." + +The interruption was made in a very soft voice which almost lisped the +words. They came from the immediate right of the chairman, who turned +with surprise toward the speaker, Lord Milford, who until this moment had +never opened his mouth. + +"I have to propose," continued the gentle voice, "that we call before us, +without delay, Mr. Maurice Blum, of the firm of Blum & Co., Threadneedle +Street." + +Sir Matthew gasped and turned deadly pale. For an instant he felt as +though he would collapse, then, summoning all his will, he fought back +the emotion which was almost choking him. By a supreme effort he +partially regained his self-possession and managed to assume an ordinary +expression. With one rapid and comprehensive glance he took in the faces +of Lord Milford and the committee, and with an immense relief told +himself that they were one and all ignorant of what the proposal +signified to him. + +Where had Milford obtained his information? How much did he know? While +these thoughts flashed through his brain the soft voice lisped on-- + +"Certain evidence has reached me which points to Mr. Blum's having +interests in Sweden of a character that immediately, concerns our +investigations. The firm are large holders of shares in a smelting +concern called the Swedenborg Coal and Iron Smelting Company, and there +is also a probability that Messrs. Blum's interests extend in a direction +which, though I am not suggesting disloyalty or illegality, urgently +necessitates inquiry." + +Lord Milford sat down. His expression was solemn; it was evident that he +was rather pleased at finding himself for once in the unusual position of +having something to say and saying it. There was a buzz of whispered +conversation round the table, then a sudden hush--the chairman was +addressing the meeting. + +For a moment Sir Matthew paused. Once more his eyes took in the room. +Where was the enemy? Just behind him, in his usual place, sat Tarleton at +his table covered with papers. The secretary's face was white and drawn; +he was twisting his small moustache nervously; his eyes were fixed on the +chairman with a half-frightened expression. + +Once more Sir Matthew's eyes scanned the faces. Where was the enemy? And +now, at the opposite end of the table, he noticed, for the first time, a +figure almost concealed behind the stout form of Mr. Small. It was Klein. +The two men's eyes met. It was only for a fraction of a moment, but it +was long enough. In the concentrated gaze of the Alsatian there was +neither hatred nor vindictiveness, but only determination. The two +wills were in conflict, and this time Sir Matthew knew he had met his +master. In that instant he made up his mind. + +"Gentlemen"--his voice was calm, his bearing unruffled; the old habit was +as strong as ever, he drew down his cuffs and leaned easily on the table, +spreading out his fingers--"I have a very short personal statement to +make. You are perhaps unaware that I have been for many years connected +with the firm of Blum & Co.; in fact, I was the original founder of the +business in which for a considerable period Lord Milford's nephew, Lord +Reginald Dumbarton, was also partner." Sir Matthew paused a moment and +smiled towards his neighbour. "For some years my interest has been +confined to a sleeping partnership; I have been completely ignorant of +the details of the business. While I need hardly tell you that the +situation in which I find myself is very trying, I support Lord +Milford's suggestion that the affairs of the firm shall be investigated +and that Mr. Maurice Blum shall be summoned before you. But in these +circumstances I have to inform you with great regret that I shall +immediately place my resignation of the chairmanship in the hands of the +Prime Minister. Gentlemen, may I, as my last act before leaving the +chair, propose that, pending the appointment of a new chairman by the +Government, Lord Milford shall take my place." + +Bowing slightly to right and left and gathering up his papers, Sir +Matthew walked with a dignified step to the door and disappeared. + + + + +III. WAR WORK + +Mrs. Dobson, though short and portly, carries her fifty-five years with +buoyancy. She is a good-natured woman, with purple cheeks, a wide mouth, +and a small nose; one connects something indefinable in her appearance +with church on Sundays, so that one learns without surprise that she +is a strict Anglican. She lives in the neighbourhood of Cadogan Square, +and has five daughters, of whom two are married, to a well-known surgeon +and a minor canon respectively. The beauty of the family is Joan, who +plays the piano and is considered intellectual and artistic. She spent a +year at the Conservatoire in Brussels, and often uses French words in +conversation. Effie, the youngest, is an adept at games, and rather +alarms her mother by her habit of using slang expressions and the +shortness of her skirts. + +Soon after the beginning of the War, Lady Whigham having discontinued her +days at home, Mrs. Dobson gave up hers, and as the other ladies in her +circle followed suit, her chief occupation was gone. + +Of course, like her friend Lady Whigham, she joined several committees, +but she was rather disappointed to find the meetings less sociable than +she expected. What Mrs. Dobson likes is a friendly, chat over a cup of +tea; when you sit formally round a green table, you never seem to get to +know any one properly. + +"It's so much nicer," she said to Maud, the eldest unmarried daughter, a +bouncing young woman of generous proportions, "to have something at your +own house. My idea is to make a pleasure of charity. The most +disagreeable things can be got through pleasantly. Now, you're such a +sensible girl, can't you think of something?" + +Mrs. Dobson always speaks of Maud as "such a sensible girl"; spiteful +people suggest that this praise is a form of apology for the absence of +physical charm. + +Maud meditated deeply. "Everybody seems to have thought of everything, +mamma, that's the worst of it. You see, Mrs. Newt has that drawing class +for orphan boys; then there's Mrs. Badger's fund for giving musical +instruction to the children of soldiers and sailors, and the Parrys have +dancing classes for them." + +"That's just it. We ought to be doing something useful of that kind. It's +a public duty for people in our position." + +"But I think we are doing our share, mamma. What with your committee and +Effie teaching those Belgian refugee children to play hockey and me at +the canteen for ineligible shop assistants." + +"I know, my dear. Still, it would be so nice to have something here--just +to bring people together, as it were, in a cosy way." + +Before any conclusion was reached tea was brought, and just then Joan +came in from a concert at the Mandolin Hall, bringing a startling piece +of news. + +"Who do you think I met at the concert, mamma?" + +Joan was evidently excited. She spoke almost breathlessly, and went on +without waiting for a reply. + +"Jack Leclerc is back from the Front on sick leave, and he's been made a +captain." + +Mrs. Dobson glanced at Maud. "Really, my dear!" she said, but her voice +was not cordial. + +"What else did he tell you?" + +"He hardly said anything. In fact, he didn't tell me even that. Mr. Mayo, +the manager, saw him as we were going out and I heard him call him +'Captain'!" + +"Perhaps it's a mistake, anyhow," suggested Maud. + +"No, it isn't. I stopped to find out--about the next concert, I mean--and +Mr. Mayo told me he had greatly distinguished himself, and I'm not a bit +surprised either." And Joan looked at her mother and her sister with an +air of saying, "What did I tell you?" + +"Well, he's sure to come and see us and tell us all about it," Mrs. +Dobson remarked complacently. + +"I'm not so sure of that!" Joan spoke sharply. + +"Nonsense, dear! he'll be only too pleased to, especially if we ask +him--and now it's war-time I think we might. Bygones are bygones." + +Joan sighed deeply. It was evident she meant her mother to notice it. + +"Surely you've got over that little affair? You didn't seem to mind at +the time. Did you now, dear?" + +"What could I do with you all against me?" Joan's face wore an expression +of aggrieved reminiscence. + +"We thought it for your good, Joan. He was only a music-teacher and had +no means at all." + +"He was getting on splendidly, though. You forget that he had been +appointed conductor of a big orchestra to tour the provinces--when the +War came." + +"Yes, but the War put a complete end to that and to all his prospects. A +nice time you'd have had to wait," said Maud. + +"It's over now, so what's the good of talking about it? I daresay he's +forgotten all about me long ago." Joan sighed again and helped herself to +tea. + +Half an hour later Clara Whigham called up Joan on the telephone. The +family was accustomed to these conversations, which were sometimes of +long duration. The two girls were intimate. It was through Clara that +Joan had taken piano lessons at the Royal School of Music from Jack +Leclerc. + +When Joan left the room Mrs. Dobson turned to her elder daughter. + +"Now, Maud, you're such a sensible girl--what do you think about this +young man turning up? He's sure to be after Joan again, don't you think?" + +Maud considered the question with her usual conscientious earnestness, +while her mother sat anxiously watching her. + +"Well, now," she said at length, "supposing he does?" + +"What do you mean, Maud? I don't understand." + +"Well, I mean that the War has changed everything. Look at Dora Newt. She +Wouldn't accept that young Mr. Firning because he was only a clerk in the +bank. Now she's engaged to him, all because he's in the Army. Why, you +know, mamma, Clara told you herself the other day she meant to have a War +wedding." + +"I must say I was shocked that so well brought up a girl should talk so +lightly about marrying." + +"I know, mamma, but everybody's the same now; the War makes all the +difference. And I think if Joan still wants him--after all, he's a +captain and--" + +"I think perhaps you are right, Maud. The War does make such a +difference, doesn't it? I really think I shall encourage +it now that he has made a position for himself." Mrs. Dobson was +interrupted by the return of Joan with another piece of news. + +"Oh, mamma," she said, more breathlessly than ever, "Lady Whigham's going +to give a concert for poor artists, and she wants us to give one, too! +Isn't it a heavenly idea?" + +Though Mrs. Dobson knew nothing about art, and supposed that the only +reason why people ever were artists was because they were too poor to be +anything else, she heartily agreed to the suggestion, coming as it did +through Lady Whigham, and being so exactly the form of charity that she +approved. + +The next morning Mrs. Dobson received a typewritten postcard-- + + +205 CADOGAN SQUARE, S.W. + +DEAR MRS. DOBSON,-- + +To help the artists, 2/6 teas are again being started. I am having one on +Thursday the 14th. May I rely on your kind co-operation? Will you come, +bring your friends, your work, have an hour's good music, tea, a chat, +and feel that you are doing a great kindness to the artists? + +Hoping to see you. + +Yours sincerely, + +CONSTANCE WHIGHAM. + +Music 3.30 to 4.30. + +Tea 4.30. + + +There was a chorus of approval round the Dobsons' breakfast-table. + + * * * * * + +Lady Whigham's concert went off with great _éclat_. + +It was attended by many ladies, of whom one was a dowager countess, but +there were also a bishop and a midshipman. The last had a bad cold and +kept on blowing his nose during the performance of the soprano, a lady of +strange appearance, said to be a Serbian refugee of noble origin. + +Joan did not enjoy the concert as much as the others. She said the +pianoforte playing was very indifferent--she wondered what Captain +Leclerc, who sat in the front row next to Clara Whigham, thought of it. + + * * * * * + +The 28th was fixed for the concert at Mrs. Dobson's. Joan would have +liked to write to Jack Leclerc and ask him to recommend the artists, but +she wasn't sure how he would take it, and besides, she did not know his +address. Of course she could have asked Clara, but somehow she did not +like to. + +As Lady Whigham had specially asked Mrs. Dobson to engage performers she +was interested in, there was no difficulty and the day of the concert +arrived. + + * * * * * + +Among the first arrivals were Lady and Miss Whigham, attended by Jack +Leclerc. + +Mrs. Dobson, wreathed in smiles, with Maud at her right hand, received +the guests. Effie gave them tea and Joan showed them to their places. + +There were five "artists." Three young men opened the performance with a +trio for piano, violin, and 'cello. The ladies who had had tea knitted +and conversed. When the performance was over they went into raptures +about it. A middle-aged and melancholy-looking man with a beard followed. +He was the feature of the occasion, having been strongly recommended by +Lady Whigham as a "finished and accomplished vocalist." He sang a series +of very modern French songs. + +"It sounds to me as if something was wrong," commented Mrs. Dobson to +Maud, who replied-- + +"Sh! mamma, they're not supposed to have any tune." + +Lady Whigham in the front seat was applauding vigorously, so every one +else, especially Mrs. Dobson, did the same, with the result that the +accomplished vocalist sang them all over again, making exactly the same +faces. + +After that an old lady in a yellow wig livened things up with a rendering +of Tosti's "Good-bye" in a cracked contralto. While the audience was +applauding, Joan noticed that Jack Leclerc got up. He was making his way +gently to the door, evidently anxious to escape observation. Her heart +was in her mouth, but she sat on stonily, determined that he should not +know she had seen him. + +At the door he encountered Mrs. Dobson. + +"So sorry, I must run, Mrs. Dobson," he said, holding out his hand. + +"Oh, I am sorry, Mr.--er--Captain Leclerc. Can't you wait till the end? +Joan will be so disappointed not to see you." + +"Oh, thank you. The fact is--" Leclerc stopped, looking a little +embarrassed. But Mrs. Dobson did not notice this and ran on-- + +"And what did you think of the concert, Mr.--er--Captain Leclerc?" + +The musician's professional conscience forbade a complimentary reply. + +"It was very bad," he said, "except the old Frenchman. That woman had no +business to sing in public, and as for those youths who call themselves +artists--why aren't they in the trenches?" And hastily touching Mrs. +Dobson's hand, he slipped away: the expression in her rubicund face was +pained as she gazed after him. + + * * * * * + +After the concert had come to an end and the guests had gradually +dispersed, Lady Whigham and Mrs. Dobson counted up the money and +discussed how much each performer should receive. This _tête-à-tête_ +with Lady Whigham was what Mrs. Dobson most enjoyed the whole afternoon. +Meanwhile Clara drew Joan aside. + +"Congratulate me, dearest," she whispered. "I'm going to marry Captain +Leclerc." + + + + +IV. BUSINESS IS BUSINESS + +Stephen Ringsmith in his way is a public man, and such he likes to +consider himself. + +He is an art dealer in a very big way, and he is also a pillar of one of +the political parties. He could have a baronetcy for the asking, but he +has no children and he prefers to be a power behind the throne rather +than a lackey in front of it. + +Ringsmith is what is called a strong man. He knows the value of money, +but he enjoys spending it. He lives in princely style, but he is not +exactly a snob and he prides himself on his independence. His hobby is +what he calls "picking winners"--men, not horses. He likes to "spot" some +young fellow who he thinks has it in him to get on, then he backs him. He +believes that nothing succeeds like success, having tested the truth of +the saying himself. When something disagreeable has to be done, he does +it and damns the consequences but he does not shrink from them. + +One afternoon old Peter Knott went to see the famous art dealer. The +latter was sitting in a deep leather chair with his feet near the fender, +a silver tea-service resplendent under a high silver lamp beside him. To +Peter Knott, as he entered, the impression was that of a comfort both +solid and luxurious. + +Ringsmith's strong-willed face lit up. He had much regard for Peter, in +spite of the latter's being almost the only man who did not hesitate to +say what he thought to him, whether palatable or not. + +"Ha, old bird! I know what you've come for." + +Ringsmith has a large mouth, and although he is getting towards sixty his +teeth are strong and sound. His voice is loud and its tone bullying, as +of one accustomed to ordering people about and to having his way. Somehow +this doesn't offend, perhaps because you expect it of a man with his red, +mottled skin, bushy eyebrows, and heavy jaw. + +Old Peter finished his bit of buttered toast and quietly sipped his tea. + +"Yes?" he said. + +"What is it this time, Peter, a box for the Red Cross Matinee or a +subscription to the new fund? Come on, out with it." + +Peter screwed his single glass into one of his shrewd grey eyes, and +examining the muffin dish, carefully selected another piece of toast. + +"Try again," he remarked. + +"It's worse than I thought." The big man looked at his friend out of the +corner of his eye as he put a cigar in his mouth and lighted a match. The +other finished his tea and lay back in his chair. + +"Not at all, not at all, Stephen. A friend of mine, Mrs. Stillwell, wants +to sell her pictures." + +Peter Knott has a soft, gentle voice, and he spoke slowly, looking into +the fire. + +"She is an old friend of mine, Mrs. Stillwell. I was best man to Tom when +he married her. Lord! What a long time ago!" + +Ringsmith glanced towards Peter; he said nothing, and there was a +moment's silence before the latter continued-- + +"Tom didn't leave anything except the property, which goes to the boy; +he's at the Front. There are the two girls to provide for. I advised her +to sell the pictures long ago, but she couldn't bear to part with them. +Now, with new taxation and so on, she feels she must. It's a bad time for +selling, isn't it, Stephen?" + +"The worst." + +"What do you advise?" + +"I never advise; people must make up their minds for themselves." Then, +as though it were an after-thought: "What sort of pictures are they?" + +"There are a Corot, a Mauve, and a Daubigny, I believe. The Corot is said +to be a particularly good one." + +"Um--what does she want for them?" + +"I don't think poor Mary has any idea about the price; she asked me, but +there's one thing I won't do, and that's to be mixed up in an art deal--" + +Ringsmith's eyes flashed; he flicked the ash off his cigar angrily. + +"Mixed up--art deal! Then why the devil do you come to me?" + +Peter Knott smiled at him benignly. + +"Oh! Because you and I are old friends, Stephen. I'm sure you'll treat +her better than any one else." + +Ringsmith moved uneasily. + +"Why don't you tell her to go to some one else first? I like people to +fix their price before they come to me, then I can take it or leave it. +They've got such fantastic ideas about the value of things." + +"Oh, very well, if you prefer. I thought you'd be pleased I came to you, +but of course--" + +Peter made a slight waving motion with his hand, dismissing the subject, +and began talking of other things. + +A quarter of an hour later he rose to go. He said good-bye, and was just +leaving the room when Ringsmith called him back. + +"About those pictures--I should like to oblige you, Peter." + +"Yes?" + +"Where can they be seen?" + +Peter Knott took a half-sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to +Ringsmith without comment. Ringsmith glanced at it and threw it on the +table. + +"All right," he said, "leave it to me; I'll see what can be done, but +these aren't times to buy, you know." + +"So you said," Peter replied, and went gently out of the room. + +The next morning Ringsmith was early at his office. After looking over +his letters he sent for MacTavish. The shrewd Scotsman was said to be the +cleverest picture-buyer in the country. He came in, a tall, thin man, +clean-shaven, with wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Ringsmith +doesn't stand on terms of ceremony with his employees: he comes to the +point at once. + +"D'you remember that Corot we sold to Peter Whelan of Philadelphia? When +was it--two or three years ago?" + +"Certainly I do, Mr. Ringsmith." + +"Can you say off-hand what we made on that deal?" + +"No," replied MacTavish cautiously, "but I do remember what we gave for +it, and what we sold it for. There were a lot of expenses on that deal." +There was a cunning look in MacTavish's eyes as he added the last words. + +"Um, yes--what were the figures?" + +"We gave £4,000, but it included those ormulu vases which Joyce sold for +us at Christie's. You remember we were wrong about those, and it took +some of the gilt off." + +Ringsmith's heavy eyebrows met in a scowl. + +"Well?" he said irritably. + +"Whelan gave £7,500. He's a hard nut, you know." + +"That'll do now, MacTavish. I want you to go and call at this place, have +a look at the pictures, and report." + + * * * * * + +Mr. MacTavish lost no time in calling at Mrs. Stillwell's house. She was +out, but had left a note for the gentleman from Mr. Ringsmith's, asking +him to look at the pictures, and expressing her regret that she could not +show them to him herself. She was quite unable, she said, to decide upon +a price, which she left entirely to Mr. Ringsmith. + + * * * * * + +A few days later Mrs. Stillwell was writing to her boy at the Front when +Mr. MacTavish was announced. She is a slight, refined, gentle-looking +little lady, and rose from her chair with some embarrassment. She had +never had anything to do with gentlemen like Mr. MacTavish before, and +hardly knew whether she ought to shake hands with him or not; but she did +so with a gracious and slightly deprecating air. She felt she was under +an obligation to him for giving him so much trouble, and she disliked +very much being compelled to talk to him about selling her pictures. + +"Won't you have a cup of tea, Mr. MacTavish?" she asked, not knowing +exactly what to say. + +The tall Scotsman declined politely, and came straight to business. + +"I've talked the matter over with Mr. Ringsmith, Mrs. Stillwell, and if + you're agreeable I am prepared to buy the three pictures for the firm." + +Mrs. Stillwell half-rose from her chair. + +"Oh, thank you very much, thank you very much!" she said hastily. + +"Purely a matter of business, madam. You may not be aware that in these +times buying pictures is a somewhat dangerous operation." + +"Oh, indeed! I didn't know." + +Mrs. Stillwell blanched at the word "dangerous." + +"I mean, we may be compelled to keep them for a considerable time. It's +not easy to find purchasers." + +"No, I suppose not, Mr. MacTavish." + +"You are still unable to fix a price, Mrs. Stillwell?" + +"I really--I--no, I don't think so. I have no idea what the value of the +pictures is." + +"Pictures have no value, madam; they are worth just what they can be sold +for, neither more nor less." + +"Oh, indeed! Yes." + +"Mr. Ringsmith has decided to give you what I think may be considered in +the circumstances a very handsome price for the three pictures. He has +told me that I may offer you £5,000." + +"Oh, I'm sure that's very kind indeed of Mr. Ringsmith." Mrs. Stillwell +was quite astonished; she had not expected nearly so much. + +MacTavish lost no time; he handed her a cheque, and in a few moments +took his departure. + +Some weeks passed. Ringsmith again occupied the deep leather chair, and +Peter Knott was announced. + +"Good afternoon, Stephen; thought I'd look in for a moment. No, thanks." +This in answer to Ringsmith's offer of tea. + +"Mrs. Stillwell told me about the deal, Stephen." + +"Well, were you satisfied?" + +Peter Knott didn't answer the question. + +"By the way," he remarked softly, "her boy's just come back. Got shot +through one of his lungs. Extraordinary thing--miracle almost. He's made +a marvellous recovery, thanks entirely to a motor ambulance being handy. +They got him to the base hospital, and now he's almost convalescent. +Aren't you glad you subscribed, Stephen?" + +"Of course I'm glad. I don't give money unless I want to." + +"You are very good about it, Stephen--very. I was wondering +whether"--Peter Knott looked up at Ringsmith--"you'd feel like giving me +another little cheque. You know these ambulances break down dreadfully +fast. Fresh ones are always wanted, and with the new campaign--" + +"Really, Peter, you try me pretty high. It's give, give, give. You seem +to think that I've got a bottomless pocket." + +"Not exactly bottomless, Stephen." + +"But I say you do. I can't go on like this. Every day there's some new +demand. Look at this." He took a type-written letter from the table and +handed it to his friend. Peter Knott stuck his eyeglass into his eye and +slowly read the letter. + +"I say, Stephen, this must be the wrong letter. It's from those +wheelworks of yours, telling you they've got so many orders they can't +execute them, and that there's a new contract from the Government. +They want to extend the works." + +"Well, damn it! doesn't that mean more money, and the Government takes +pretty nearly all the profit. You seem to forget that money's wanted in +business. I shall have to shut up shop if this goes on. D'you think +giving employment to hundreds of workmen isn't worth something, too? I'm +thinking very seriously of closing Crossways Hall altogether; in fact, I +should, only that it would cost me almost as much as keeping it open. +There's no man in the country who has done more in the public interest +than I have, but there's a limit to everything." + +Ringsmith scowled at Peter, who made no attempt at replying. + +"By the way, Ringsmith, did you know Whelan is over here? I met him quite +by chance yesterday. Seems he's come over on a large Government contract +for shells. He asked after you. Told me about a Corot you sold him some +years ago. He seemed to think he'd paid a big price." + +"Well, he didn't." The tone of Ringsmith's reply was irritable. Peter +Knott stopped putting on his gloves and looked at Ringsmith inquiringly. + +"Not a big price? He told me £7,500." + +"Oh, he told you that, did he? Have you any idea what kind of expenses +there are in a transaction of that kind?" + +"Not the slightest, Stephen." + +"You don't seem to realize that there are not many people who have the +antipathy to being mixed up in art deals that you have." + +"Ah!" Peter Knott moved to the door. + +"Good-bye, Stephen," he murmured, and closed it gently behind him. + + * * * * * + +By the first post in the morning Peter Knott received the following +letter-- + + +DEAR PETER, + +Thinking it over after you left, I have decided to send you the enclosed +for the motor ambulance fund. I never like refusing you, but I should +like you to remember that business is one thing and charity another. + +Yours ever, + +STEPHEN RINGSMITH. + + +Within the letter was a cheque for £2,500. + +"Not so bad," muttered Peter, "but he's got the Mauve and the Daubigny +for nothing, and there were no expenses on this deal." + + + + +V. "BOBBY" + +When War came, Julian Froelich, known to his friends as "Bobby," found +himself in a situation which in his wildest dreams he had never +contemplated. This is not surprising, considering that his mental +activities had been exclusively limited to procuring himself what he +called "a good time." In that brief phrase could be summed up Bobby's +entire philosophy, and when he suddenly had to face a state of things +which from one moment to another swept away the groundwork upon which his +life reposed, it is no wonder that he felt himself "knocked out." With +incredible velocity his friends were caught up and whirled in every +direction like cockle-shells in a hurricane. Their haunts knew them no +more, and before he could realize his personal concern with catastrophic +events Bobby became a disconsolate wanderer in search of the flotsam and +jetsam which were all that remained of his demolished world. + +For a time Bobby was unnerved. At first singly, then by twos, by threes, +by dozens, those with whom his life had been spent--frequenters of the +restaurant, the racecourse, the tavern, and the theatre--followed one +another in a headlong race to the unknown. His brain reeled under +successive shocks. He was awestruck by the appalling suddenness of death +and destruction. Daring no inquiry, avoiding those whose faces he dreaded +to read, he forsook his former luxurious resorts and almost slunk into +the corners of obscure eating-places and cafés in Soho. + +Bobby will not easily forget those first few weeks of the War. + +Then gradually he pulled himself together, and unable to escape the +influence by which he was surrounded, he tried to take his little part in +the common effort. But his training was against him. At forty-five years +of age it is no easy task for any man to put the past behind him and +begin afresh; for Bobby to have done so would have needed a strength of +will and character which he never at any time in his life possessed. He +did succeed in getting various jobs, but one after another he threw them +up. In each case he found a suitable excuse for himself and an +explanation for his friends; there was always some insuperable reason why +he was "obliged to chuck it," and he finally resigned himself to a form +of existence which differed from his former one, but only in degree. + +In the early months of the War, before restrictions were placed upon +ordinary travellers, Bobby began going to Paris again, for although he +felt if possible even more there than in London the changes brought about +by the War, the old habit was too strong to resist; the journey itself +provided a reaction against the depression which overshadowed him. + +Some time after von Kluck had been hurled back from the gates of +Paris--it must have been shortly after the return of the French +Government from Bordeaux--Bobby found himself arriving at the Gare +du Nord. He had engaged his apartment, as usual, at the Hôtel Ritz, and +was about to step into the car which even in such times as these was sent +to meet him, when a lady approached and asked him if he would mind taking +her to her destination, as there was neither cab nor car to be found at +the station. Bobby's experienced eye took in the stranger at a glance; +she was unquestionably attractive, and with something of the old spirit +he placed himself and his car at her disposal. It so happened that there +was no inconvenience attached to the favour, which the lady acknowledged +with becoming grace, for her destination was the same as his, and by the +time Bobby had deposited her and her maid at the hotel they had struck up +a quite promising acquaintance. + +Several days passed, and Bobby's chance meeting ripened into an +engrossing adventure. + +Many officers in those early days were continually passing through Paris +on their way to the Front or arriving there on short leave. There were +all sorts of other visitors--officials and bearers of dispatches, +diplomatists and cosmopolitan adventurers out for gain, not to speak of +their wives, sisters, and other female attachments. Some of these Bobby +knew, others he met, and not a few of them were well enough pleased to +accept his society, if only to profit by his ciceronage as evening +advanced. But on this occasion Bobby had no eyes for chance encounters. +His time was fully occupied, and he had come to the conclusion that his +new acquaintance was the most tempting and fascinating creature Fate +had ever cast across his path. He had, in fact, constituted himself her +permanent escort. + +Her chief occupation seemed to consist in visiting people who lived in +various parts of Paris, where Bobby invariably accompanied her in the car +he had engaged chiefly for her benefit, and he observed that she had a +considerable acquaintance among people whom she came across at the hotel +or in the various restaurants and theatres they frequented. But she +never seemed to do more than bow to them, and though it was evident that +her appearance aroused flattering notice, she discouraged attentions and +was smilingly evasive when approached. Nevertheless, she was full of +engagements. One day she would have an appointment at eleven in the +morning near the Arc de Triomphe, in the afternoon in the Boulevard +Malesherbes; the next day it would be near the Odéon in the morning and +at a turning out of the Place Pigalle in the afternoon. On such occasions +she would sweetly ask him to drop her at a certain place and to fetch her +at a certain time; then she would disappear and Bobby would be left to +spend the interval kicking his heels. + +She dressed modestly in a taste that was quiet and restrained. Without +being beautiful, her features were clear-cut, almost strong, and there +was a radiancy about her smile and a gaiety in her brown eyes that Bobby +found perfectly entrancing. She was no longer quite young; she might have +been thirty; indeed, her hair, which was dark brown, was ever so slightly +touched with silver, but this seemed to add to her attractiveness, which +resided perhaps more in her complete naturalness than in any other +quality. Bobby noticed that, unlike nearly all the women he knew, she +used no colour on her lips, and only lightly dusted her face with powder, +but her cheeks seemed always to have a bloom upon them as on grapes from +a hothouse. + +He found her a most delightful companion, always ready to talk about the +things that interested him most and to go anywhere he liked, provided +that it did not clash with any of her private engagements. + +But never in his experience had Bobby been so puzzled. He simply could +not make out who or what she really was. This mystery, if anything, +deepened her attraction for him. Her name was Madame de Corantin, and in +answer to his inquiry she told him her Christian name was Francine, but +he had not so far dared to call her by it. She had an extraordinary +power of quietly checking any attempt on his part to make tender +advances. He could not himself have explained how it was done, but she +contrived to make him feel that any suggestion of familiarity would put +an end to their intercourse, and for nothing in the world would he have +risked it. Indeed, in his loose-endedness, he looked upon the whole +adventure as a special dispensation of Providence in his favour. Madame +de Corantin was to him like a beacon to a lonely wayfarer who has lost +his way in the night. To act as her escort and protector was, quite apart +from the deeper feeling she inspired, a new object in life for him. +Ever since their first meeting his depression had left him; his existence +had once more regained its savour. + +She had frequently asked him to post letters for her, and sometimes to +call at the hotel for them; her correspondence seemed to be large, and +the envelopes bore the stamps of various countries, chiefly Russia. She +spoke English and French equally well, with a slight foreign accent, +which she explained by saying that she was Russian by birth, but had +married a French diplomatist, who died in Brazil; she said, too, that she +had travelled a great deal, and had spent much of her time in South +America, where she had been in the habit of speaking Spanish. Perhaps, +had Bobby's companion been less attractive, he might have been more +interested in these matters, but he was absorbed by her personality and +troubled little about anything else. + +Ever bright, vivacious, and in good spirits, she awakened Bobby to a new +interest in life. The philosophy with which she regarded tumultuous +events, the easy cynicism with which she dismissed a discussion which +bordered upon the serious, seemed to deprive him of any means of +enlightening himself as to her real sympathies. + +Several times he had suggested that some friend should join them at +dinner or at the theatre, but she opposed it with a velvety firmness. "We +are so well like this," she would say. "Why should we spoil it?" And +Bobby was delighted beyond measure. + +The days passed. Bobby's original intention had been to remain in Paris +only a week, but he was fully determined to stop on as long as Madame de +Corantin accepted his companionship. If he stayed there until the end of +the War, he did not care, provided he could be with her. + +About this time Bobby, waiting one evening in the hall of the hotel for +Madame de Corantin to come down to dinner, observed a familiar figure in +Staff uniform. It was Alistair Ramsey. They exchanged salutations, but +Ramsey's manner was marked by a hauteur which even Bobby, good-natured as +he was, could not fail to notice. At that moment Madame de Corantin +stepped out of the lift, and with a "See you later," to which the +other responded by a curt nod, Bobby went to meet her. As she greeted him +she stood still an instant, apparently looking at some one behind him, +and Bobby turned sharply to follow her eyes. They were fixed on Alistair +Ramsey, who was staring back at her with a look of astonishment. + +The restaurant was fuller than usual, but their table was always +reserved, and Bobby (who prides himself on his taste in such matters) +looked forward to the little compliment he regularly received for +the appropriateness of his menu. But on this occasion Madame de Corantin +seemed to be oblivious of menu and of Bobby alike. She sat apparently +lost in thought, and, eating mechanically what was placed before her, +replied with monosyllables to Bobby's attempts at conversation. Then, +of a sudden, her face cleared like the sky on an April day. + +"Pardon me, my friend, I fear I have been very ill-mannered. I have +received an annoying letter, and was thinking about it." + +Bobby was full of concern. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked. + +She looked at him with a half-smile. "Who knows? Perhaps!" + +"Do tell me. You know I long to be of use to you, and there is so little +that I can do." + +"But who could do more? No lonely woman could ask for a more devoted +cavalier." Her appreciative glance was nectar to Bobby. So susceptible +was he to the expression of her eyes, he would have been powerless to +resist anything they asked of him. But he had never been put to the test; +on the contrary, she had accepted with demur even the comparatively +trifling services he had been able to render her. She was most +punctilious in regard to any expense to which he was put, and insisted, +to his discomfiture, on paying her share of everything. At first they had +little quarrels about it, but Bobby had been compelled to give way to her +firm but gracious insistence. + +"Tell me, my friend"--her eyes played full upon him as she spoke--"who +was that gentleman you were talking to just before dinner?" + +For a moment Bobby hesitated. If there were one man in all his +acquaintance whom he would have preferred that Madame de Corantin should +not know, it was Alistair Ramsey. Bobby had known him for a good many +years. The acquaintance dated back to a period when Ramsey was a +comparatively young man of fashionable manner and appearance on +half-commission with a firm of stockbrokers. Even then he aspired to +smart society, but this social recognition involved an expenditure +considerably beyond his earning capacity. In those days Bobby had +been of no small use to him. Many were the dinners to which Ramsey had +done the inviting, he the paying, and if that gentleman of fashion was +not above accepting the lavish attentions of the man about town, whom he +regarded as quite outside his own world, still less was he averse to the +loans forthcoming at moments of embarrassment, accompanied by a thinly +veiled hint from Bobby that they were repayable only when circumstances +permitted. + +Bobby was not calculating, but without any deep reflection on the subject +he knew that Ramsey was "on the make," and it was not unreasonable to +expect him to have at least a kindly feeling for an old friend when he +"arrived." In this, however, he was disappointed. Though with the rise in +his fortunes Ramsey's vanity extinguished his sense of obligation, his +pride was not equal to paying his debts. Bobby may or may not have +realized that his former friend's gratitude was of the same quality as +his honour, but in any case he showed no resentment. He was sufficiently +accustomed to the ways of the successful to take them as they were, and +to pass over those characteristics to which, after all, they partly owe +their success. Indeed, had it been a question of introducing any one but +Madame de Corantin to Ramsey, he would have ignored the latter's +insolence and ingratitude alike and conformed to his habitual rôle as +purveyor of amusement to all and sundry. For Bobby's dignity was not +great, and the secret of the kind of popularity he enjoyed was in no +small measure attributable to his own lack of self-respect. But for the +first time in his life Bobby's pride now asserted itself. At last he was +being "tried too high." + +"Excuse me, madame, if before answering you I ask you why you are +interested?" + +Madame de Corantin considered an instant. "I shall tell you, my friend, +but not now." She glanced round her significantly as she spoke. "The +little story is rather private, and I should not care to be overheard. +You understand?" + +"Oh, please don't--please," he stammered, feeling he had been indiscreet, +but flattered all the same by the promise of her confidence. "His name is +Alistair Ramsey. I have known him a long time." + +"Is he an intimate friend of yours, monsieur?" + +"Well, no, I can't say intimate, but I used to know him very well." + +"What is his position in London?" + +Bobby thought a moment. "Do you mean his position now during the War or +generally?" + +"Both." + +"Well, shortly before the War he had been made a partner in an important +firm in the Stock Exchange. He is supposed to come of a good family, and +he went about a great deal. One of those sort of men ladies like--asked +out a lot, that sort of thing--good-looking, too, don't you think?" + +The question was inspired by jealousy. The more Bobby thought about +Ramsey the less he liked the prospect of introducing him to Madame de +Corantin. + +"I quite believe he is considered so," she replied evasively. "But you +were saying--" + +"Well, it's generally believed, I dare say it isn't true, that he was +made a member of that firm through being--ahem--a great friend of the +wife of the chief partner. I don't like suggesting that sort of thing, +you know, but as you asked me--" + +"Oh please go on," Madame de Corantin said, holding her chin with both +hands and leaning her elbows on the table. Her eyes were looking closely +into Bobby's, and he moved uneasily under their sustained gaze. + +"Just after the War began--Oh, I forgot to mention something: he is a +very great friend of Mrs. Norman Lockyard, the wife of the Cabinet +Minister. I seem to keep on bringing in ladies, but somehow when one +talks about Alistair Ramsey one can't help it. Through Mrs. Lockyard, he +got introduced to Sir Archibald Fellowes. It wasn't very difficult, you +know; Ramsey gives little parties in his flat in Mount Street--all sorts +of people go. It's extraordinary when one thinks of it--I mean to me who +know what his life has been--but he's considered amusing. I know one +evening, a week or two ago, Lord Coleton was there, and--" + +Madame de Corantin was listening attentively. "Did you say Lord Coleton?" +she asked. "Those English names are so puzzling." + +"Yes," said Bobby. "Why, do you know him?" + +"Oh, slightly," she answered, "but continue your story, it is so +interesting." + +"Where was I? Oh, yes, let me see. Have you ever heard of Léonie Blas?" + +Madame de Corantin smiled at the sudden question. "Oh yes, the chanteuse. +What has she to do with it?" + +"Well, you see, Ramsey and Léonie were more or less _collés_, and +Ramsey introduced old Fellowes to her. Soon afterwards Ramsey became +Fellowes' private secretary." + +"Ah!" The exclamation came through Madame de Corantin's closed lips +almost like a sigh. "And Sir Archibald is a very important personage, I +believe?" + +"Important! They say he runs the whole War Office." + +Madame de Corantin laughed. The sound of it rippled away joyously. It was +infectious, and Bobby laughed too. + +"Anything more I can tell you?" + +"Oh no, thanks. Now let us talk about other things, but I must know this +wonderful Mr. Ramsey. You will introduce him to me, won't you? Ah!" The +reason for the exclamation was evident. + +Their table faced the entrance, and Madame de Corantin's seat enabled her +to see every one who entered or left the restaurant. Alistair Ramsey was +standing in the doorway, waiting for the head waiter to show him to his +table. His eyes were fixed upon Madame de Corantin's face. The look of +astonishment Bobby had noticed before had given place to one of mingled +surprise and curiosity. He had exchanged his uniform for evening dress, +and wore a flower in his buttonhole. A waiter went towards him, and he +began threading his way through the diners. Another instant, and he stood +beside Madame de Corantin's chair. + +Under the compulsion of a will felt but not expressed in words, Bobby +rose as he approached, and introduced him. + +"I hope you will allow me to join you after dinner?" Alistair Ramsey +asked as he bowed. + +Madame de Corantin smiled affirmatively, and Bobby ground his teeth as +Ramsey proceeded to his table. + + * * * * * + +Madame de Corantin did not care for the chatter and casual encounters of +the public rooms of an hotel. It was her practice to retire to her own +salon after dinner, unless she were going to a theatre. After the first +two or three days of their acquaintance she had invited Bobby to join her +there, and he had been immensely flattered. He looked forward to that +moment every evening, for it seemed to him to admit a certain intimacy +which he greatly valued. But now his heart was beating with apprehension. +Would she ask Ramsey to her private apartment? + +"May I tell the waiter to bring coffee upstairs?" he asked in a low tone. + +"By all means," she said, "but you might order for three and leave word +for Mr. Ramsey to join us when he has finished his dinner." Her tone was +careless, and Bobby's heart turned to stone. + +"Perhaps I had better tell him myself?" He tried to conceal his chagrin, +but his voice betrayed him. + +Madame de Corantin turned to him gaily. "Oh, I expect he'll find his way +without that," she answered, "and I want to tell you something before he +comes." + +"Come and sit here by me," she said, as they entered her apartment. "You +have been very discreet; I have noticed it from the beginning. Had it not +been for that I could not have allowed you to be with me so much. +Discretion is a great gift, Mr. Froelich." + +"Oh, please don't call me 'Mr. Froelich'; couldn't you manage to say +'Bobby' at least once before Ramsey appears?" + +Madame de Corantin broke into that catching laugh of hers. "Very well +then, 'Bobby,' my friend, I am going to trust to your discretion by +telling you my little story. I was once travelling on a ship going to +America--at that time I was very unhappy. I was quite alone. My husband +had recently died. I have been very lucky in my life--you are an +example." + +"I?" exclaimed Bobby. + +"Yes, you. Did you not arrive on the scene just when I wanted you, at +the Gare du Nord?" + +"Oh yes, I see what you mean. Of course, of course; thanks awfully for +saying that." + +"Well, just as you arrived then, so some one else arrived once long ago, +and I was grateful to him, as indeed I am grateful to you." + +Bobby was trying to find something to say, but Madame de Corantin +continued-- + +"I was glad of protection going to America. It is not pleasant for a +woman to have to travel alone. I daresay some people would have +misunderstood the position. My companion on that voyage was well known. +He was a Prince of a distinguished German family. He was nothing to me. I +need hardly tell you that." + +The suggestion in her last remark was not very flattering to Bobby, but +he was too much interested to notice it. + +"On that same ship was travelling your friend, Mr. Ramsey. He knew the +Prince slightly, I do not know how." + +"Oh, he always manages to get to know people somehow or other. That's +one of Ramsey's special gifts," Bobby remarked with as near an approach +to bitterness as he was capable of expressing. + +"He used to come up and speak to the Prince when we were reclining on our +deck chairs, but my companion did not encourage him. I think, Bobby, he +was like you--a little jealous. Anyhow, towards the end of the voyage I +received a note. It was handed to me by a stewardess. It was from Mr. +Ramsey, and I handed it to the Prince. I do not exactly know what +happened, for I did not see Mr. Ramsey again, but from what the Prince +told me, he must have said something very disagreeable to Mr. Ramsey. +That is all the story." + +She had hardly said the words when there was a knock on the door, and +Alistair Ramsey entered the room and stood before her, bowing. With a few +easy words the new-comer settled himself in a chair, and at the +invitation of Madame de Corantin lit a cigarette. Nothing in his attitude +or in hers suggested that they had ever seen each other before, still +less that an embarrassing episode figured in the background of their +earlier acquaintance. + +Madame de Corantin led the conversation by a few casual remarks, which +were immediately taken up by Ramsey, and in a few minutes they were +talking together as people do who, though they have not met before, have +known of each other for years. Ramsey brought in the names of common +acquaintances, of places they both knew, with an easy assumption of +mutual understanding that what he had to say about them would interest +her. + +As a rule his attitude in the presence of ladies was that of a man +accustomed to the recognition of his ascendency. + +Perhaps this was one of the reasons of the quite peculiar hostility with +which most men regarded him, but with Madame de Corantin his manner was +deferential, and it was clear that he was doing everything in his power +to ingratiate himself. + +Bobby took little part in the conversation, and Ramsey's demeanour +towards him was not such as to encourage him to do so. Ramsey had the +assurance which comes from social success, and he took no trouble to +conceal the indifference, if not contempt, with which he regarded the +other man. His manner was alternately insolent and condescending; he kept +his eyes fixed upon Madame de Corantin, ignoring Bobby's presence +completely. + +Glib of speech, Ramsey had a certain gift of humour, which displayed +itself in flippant witticisms generally at the expense of others. He +undoubtedly possessed the art of provoking laughter, but there was always +malice behind his frivolity. In appearance he was elegant without being +engaging, and one felt the spitefulness of the dark eyes beneath the +abundant hair, and the hardness of his mouth showed itself even when he +laughed. An onlooker could not have failed to contrast Madame de +Corantin's two visitors, and an Englishman certainly would have done so +to the disadvantage of Ramsey. + +In spite of his German name Bobby was typically English in appearance, +and no one would have supposed that of the two he was the more +cosmopolitan. As he sat now listening to the conversation his +good-natured face wore an expression of perplexity and discomfort. Bobby +was suffering the pangs of jealousy, and at every fresh sally of the +other he was watching Madame de Corantin's face to see its effect. No +wonder, he thought, that Ramsey had few friends, and yet he could not +help envying the caustic readiness of his tongue and the skill with +which he had so quickly turned the situation to his advantage. + +For an hour they talked until, in some subtle and indefinable manner, +Bobby felt that Madame de Corantin desired to be left alone. He had +frequently had this experience with her; she seemed to be able to +indicate a desire without expressing it, and he rose now from his seat +and wished her good-night. Ramsey did not move, and Bobby's heart sank +within him at the prospect of leaving his rival in possession, but, as he +took Madame de Corantin's hand, she held it an instant in hers, turning +at the same time towards Ramsey. + +"I am so sorry," she said to him, "that our agreeable little party must +break up, but I have many letters to write this evening, and shall look +forward to seeing you both to-morrow." + +Bobby was elated as he went out of the room, closely followed by Ramsey; +indeed, reaction prompted geniality. + +"I think I'll go round to Maxim's for an hour; it's quite early. Will you +join me? There are sure to be people you know there." + +They were standing in the hall of the hotel. + +"Thanks, it's very good of you, but I too have letters to write," Ramsey +replied, and turning coldly on his heel he left Bobby to go out alone. + +Bobby strolled down the Place de la Concorde, but before he reached +Maxim's his heart misgave him; he was reviewing the events of the evening +and, though he could not justify it, his mind was full of suspicion. It +was queer her wanting to see Ramsey again after the way he had behaved. +What could have been her object? Was he really so irresistible? She had +certainly shown quite plainly that she wanted to see him, and yet she had +shown equally plainly that she didn't want him to remain with her alone. +He wondered how long Ramsey would be staying in Paris, and what effect +his presence would have on his intercourse with Madame de Corantin. Would +he be able to see as much of her or would she drop him in favour of +Ramsey. The thought tortured him, but it wormed its way more and more +into his brain. Bobby had very little confidence in his powers of +pleasing; it was a common experience of his to be thrown over in favour +of men much less attractive to women than Ramsey. It was true that +hitherto he had not much cared, and when he had been given the "go-by" he +had always reflected that there were as good fish in the sea, and so on; +but that wasn't the case now. + +Thinking deeply, he had reached the entrance of Maxim's without knowing +it, but looking in, he turned away in disgust; he had no desire to face +the crowd inside, he wanted to think things over. He walked on up the +Boulevard de la Madeleine, and with every step his jealousy increased. +The suspicion rankled; he felt certain that Ramsey would somehow or other +manage to see her again before he could--why, he might even contrive to +do so that very evening. He knew that Ramsey would dare anything where +women were concerned. Very likely while he was walking up the Boulevard, +Ramsey was sitting in her room. + +Finally, he could bear it no longer. Turning, he walked swiftly back to +the hotel; it was a little past eleven, too early to go to bed, too late +in a darkened and subdued Paris to do anything else. He wondered where +Ramsey was, and, going to the porter, asked him casually if he had seen +him. + +No, he had not seen Monsieur Ramsey since he had gone upstairs half an +hour ago; he supposed he had gone to bed. + +Had Ramsey gone to bed? The more Bobby turned it over in his mind the +stronger his suspicions grew, and then came a moment of desperation--he +must know, he could not bear the suspense. His own room was two floors +above that on which was Madame de Corantin's apartment. Declining the +lift, he walked slowly upstairs, and as though he were doing so by +mistake, directed his steps softly past the door of her salon. No one was +in the corridor, and noiselessly he approached the door. Was that a man's +voice? Yes, there was not a doubt of it. He listened again, he looked up +and down the passage, no one was in sight. He placed his head close to +the woodwork of the door; with a sense of ignominy he realized that if +there had been a keyhole he would have placed his ear to that--anything +to know--anything. Yes, he recognized Ramsey's voice distinctly; he was +there. On tiptoe he retraced his steps. Arrived at the entrance hall he +flung himself into a chair, a prey to utter wretchedness. + + * * * * * + +Somehow the night passed. + +Towards morning, perhaps at six or seven, he fell into a heavy sleep, +completely worn out by his mental sufferings. He awoke late, and, +glancing at his watch, saw to his horror that it was already eleven +o'clock. Cursing himself as he realized that this was the hour at which +Madame de Corantin generally went out, he rang the bell. How he longed +for his trusted valet, enlisted two months back. Now he had only a hotel +servant to send on messages. When the man arrived he dispatched him +instantly to find out whether Madame de Corantin had sent him any +message, and began to dress hurriedly. The servant did not return, and in +his impatience Bobby cursed him and rang again. Another servant appeared +and was hurried off on the same errand. In this way twenty minutes +passed; Bobby was dressed and flew downstairs. Unable to disguise his +anxiety, he asked the porter if he had seen Madame de Corantin. + +"Madame de Corantin left an hour ago, Monsieur." + +"Left? What do you mean?" + +"Yes, Monsieur, she left--left with her luggage and her +maid--everything." + +Controlling himself as best he could Bobby turned away in a state of +complete dejection. He sought an out-of-the-way corner and sat down, +trying to calm himself so that he could think. + +"Gone away! Gone away!" He repeated the words mechanically. What did +it all mean? + +Somebody was approaching him; he looked up, a servant handed him a note. +He tore it open breathlessly. + + +DEAR BOBBY, MY FRIEND, + +News reached me early this morning which necessitated my immediate +departure. I know, alas, that you will feel sad at not seeing me again. +Believe me, so am I, but it is unavoidable. I asked for you before I +left, but they told me at the hotel that you had not yet left your room. +I scribble this line at the station. Forgive me, my dear friend, for all +the trouble I have given you, and believe that I am very grateful. We +shall meet again some day, and meanwhile keep a kindly remembrance of +your friend + +FRANCINE DE CORANTIN. + + +She gave no address. + +Bobby read the letter again and again; he could hardly believe his eyes. +The worst thing that could possibly happen had befallen him. Where could +she have gone, and why couldn't she tell him, and oh, how could he have +been such a fool as to have gone on sleeping like a stupid log at the +moment that she was going away? He would never be able to forgive himself +for that. Was there any connection between her departure and her meeting +with Alistair Ramsey? Bobby tried to concentrate his mind on the problem, +but it baffled him. + +Completely bewildered, he cross-questioned the hall porter, but he could +add nothing to what he had already said. Madame de Corantin had gone and +she had left no address and he had not the slightest idea where, nor did +he know to what station she had gone. A car had come for her, apparently +a private one, she had not ordered it at the hotel. What trains were +there leaving? Oh, there were numbers; there was one to Rouen and Havre +and also to Dieppe about that time, to Bordeaux and San Sebastian, to all +kinds of places. Bobby realized the utter hopelessness of attempting to +trace her. Wretchedly the hours passed; in the middle of the afternoon he +decided that whatever happened he would not stay another night in Paris. +The thought of it sickened him. Paris, the hotel, and everything else had +become hateful. No, he would spend that night at Dieppe, and go to London +the next day, that was all he could think of. + +Back in London, Bobby's condition of misery, so far from improving, +became worse. His life, aimless enough ever since the War, seemed now +more aimless than ever. Every man he knew had something to do; he alone +was objectless and workless. More profoundly than ever he realized all +that Madame de Corantin had meant to him. Her disappearance had made his +life a blank. Had there been some glimmer of hope, however slight, of +penetrating the mystery, had there been the faintest clue to her present +whereabouts, he would have thrown himself heart and soul into the +endeavour to trace her, but he had absolutely nothing to go upon. + +Weary and desolate, he haunted restaurants and hotels, in the vague +hope that chance might some day yield him a glimpse of her, as a gambler +clings to a faint prospect of redeeming his fortunes through some +wonderful and unexpected revulsion of luck. But the days passed without +the slightest encouragement, and his misery turned almost to despair. + +At last, at his wits' end to know what to do with himself, he besought +a boon companion of his night life to come to his rescue. To this one war +had brought opportunity. His name was Bertram Trent. He had lived all +sorts of lives, had been married and divorced, and had made his +appearance more than once in the Bankruptcy Court, but he had knocked +about the world and seen service. + +Offering himself at the beginning of the War, he had taken part in the +Great Retreat and had been wounded. On his recovery he had been given the +command of a battalion, and at Bobby's earnest entreaty he promised him a +commission, provided he could get it confirmed at the War Office. This +saved Bobby. He lost no time in putting in his application, and, awaiting +the Gazette, he occupied himself in ordering his kit and in getting +himself into some sort of physical condition to undertake duties for +which his previous life had ill-prepared him. Though considerably past +the age for military service, he had not contemplated the possibility of +being refused a commission. + +Dropping in one day at the Carlton for lunch, he met Harold Clancey, who, +to his surprise, was wearing the Staff cap. Clancey told him that he had +been working for some time at the War Office, and had been given the rank +of captain. + +"Let's have lunch together," suggested Bobby. + +Bobby had met Clancey at all sorts of places, but they had never been on +intimate terms; in fact, the two men had little more than a nodding +acquaintance. Bobby had run into him the last time at Homburg, and +Clancey had given him to understand that he had some sort of vague +diplomatic appointment. He had drifted across Bobby's life afterwards in +a shadowy way, seeming to have nothing special to do, but to know a great +many people and to take life as a sort of a joke. He talked lightly and +cynically about serious things, and used foreign expressions with great +ease and fluency. It was characteristic of him that since the War he made +frequent use of German idioms, and when conversation turned upon passing +events he professed a complete contempt for English ideas, habits, and +methods, and a great admiration for those of the Germans. + +"What's your job at the War Office?" asked Bobby. + +"As I really don't know myself it is rather difficult to explain it to +you," answered the other, "but it seems chiefly to consist in sitting +tight and preventing other people from annexing it." + +"I'm up for a commission," remarked Bobby. "Can you do anything to help +me about it?" + +"Dear me, what a silly thing to do! What regiment?" + +Bobby explained. + +"I shall be charmed to do what I can," replied Clancey, "but as they +simply loathe me at Headquarters I don't think it will do you much good." + +They fell to discussing other things. Bobby, obsessed by his recent +experiences, could not resist telling his companion something about them. +But he did not mention Ramsey. The implied admission that he had been cut +out was too humiliating. Clancey's interest was evidently aroused. He +wanted to hear all about Madame de Corantin. + +"She seems to have fascinated you," he remarked. + +"She'd fascinate anybody." + +"And you really don't know what has become of her? How extraordinary!" + +"Isn't it?" + +"You mean to say you cannot trace her in any way?" + +"I have no more idea than the man in the moon where she is." + +Clancey reflected. + +"Did you say she was French?" he asked. + +"Her husband was; she herself is Russian." + +Clancey looked at him. + +"Oh, Russian, is she? Corantin, Corantin. Let me see. I seem to remember +the name somehow." + +"No, do you?" Bobby's voice betrayed his interest. + +"I must think about it," said Clancey. He pulled out his watch. "I think +it is time I got back to the War Office. I'll see about the commission, +Froelich, and let you know." + +"This is where I live," said Bobby, handing him a card. "Do look me up. I +do want that commission, and as quickly as possible." + +They went out of the restaurant and separated in the street, Bobby taking +his way towards his rooms in Down Street. He was wondering whether +perhaps luck had come his way, and whether Clancey would reveal to him +some means of finding Madame de Corantin. If he did, damn the commission! + +That evening, as on all others, Bobby was bored to death; the habits of +twenty years were not to be thrown off in a day. It was impossible for +him to go to bed before the small hours, and not knowing how else to kill +time he dropped in at the Savoy restaurant. It was late when he got +there, and he strolled through the foyer, stopping at various tables to +talk to acquaintances. He had no intention of taking supper, but just +wanted to see who was there. + +Of a sudden, for no reason that he could possibly have explained, an +impulse made him walk into the restaurant. In that instant he felt + positively, he could have sworn that Madame de Corantin was there. His +heart beat so that he thought it must be heard as he made his way to the +entrance, and immediately, with a strange sort of intuition, his eyes +found her. + +There she was, at the table on the right. He could see her through the +glass screen, and Ramsey was with her. He stood still a moment, devouring +her with his eyes, and then she looked up and recognized him. Was she +really beckoning to him? The reaction was so great that he dared not +believe the evidence of his senses. No, there was no doubt; she was +actually beckoning. As he walked towards the table he felt as though his +legs would give way under him; and now he was by her; he held her hand. + +"Ah, Bobby, my friend, I am so pleased to see you." + +The familiar voice, the familiar glance! It was all too good to be true. +He was blind to the presence of Ramsey. He was alone with her; Ramsey did +not exist; the restaurant did not exist. The hum of voices, the clatter +of plates, the movements of the waiters, were distant sounds: all he knew +was that he was standing there by her. + +"Sit down, Bobby." + +Mechanically he seated himself, and gradually some of his equanimity +returned. He could speak, but he said nothing of what he felt. +Instinctively he knew that it was wiser to make no reference to anything +that had passed. + +Ramsey's face was set and cold, but all his capacity for insolent +indifference did not enable him to conceal his annoyance. His eyes +flashed with anger. + +"I think we ought to be going; it is getting rather late. We don't want +to be swept out with the dust, do we?" He addressed Madame de Corantin. + +"Oh, I am in no hurry, Mr. Ramsey," she replied. "It gives me great +pleasure to see Mr. Froelich again. I was obliged to leave Paris so +suddenly, and never had an opportunity of showing him how much I +appreciated his kindness to me." + +Ramsey said nothing, but he glared at Bobby vindictively. + +Presently Madame de Corantin rose, but as she left the room she made a +point of keeping Bobby beside her, and in her inimitable way she asked +Ramsey to fetch her cloak. For a moment Bobby had the exquisite joy of +being alone with her. + +"Only tell me one thing," he almost gasped. "Tell me that I may see you, +and when." + +She thought a moment. "Not tomorrow, I fear. I should like to so much, +but I have not a moment. Come the next day to lunch. I am staying at +Claridge's." + +Ramsey appeared with the cloak, and she was gone. + +What the next hours meant to Bobby can be imagined. They were passing +somehow. The night, the morning, the afternoon wore away. He bought some +magnificent roses and returned to his flat to dress, determined that he +would take them himself to Claridge's, hoping that by some chance he +might catch a glimpse of her. + +He was just starting out when, to his surprise, Clancey was announced. + +"There is something I wanted to tell you, Froelich." + +Bobby waited impatiently. + +"That lady you were talking about, Madame de Corantin. I think I remember +something." + +Bobby was nervously anxious to get away. What Clancey had to tell him +mattered little now. + +"Oh, thanks very much, Clancey. The fact is, I've seen her." + +Clancey's nonchalant manner changed instantaneously. + +"Really!" he exclaimed. + +"At the Savoy last night. She is here in London. She is staying at +Claridge's. In fact, to tell you the truth, I am taking these flowers +there now. I am to lunch with her to-morrow. It has been a great surprise. +I never dreamt of such a thing," Bobby stammered on excitedly. + +Clancey became calm again. + +"Oh, that's most interesting," he said. "You will lunch with her +to-morrow! I say, Froelich, you might introduce me. I could turn up after +lunch, you know." + +Bobby's face got serious. + +"Well, I tell you, Clancey, old chap, as a rule I am quite ready to +introduce my friends to any lady I know, but in this particular case it +is not quite the same. You see, the fact is--the last time I introduced a +friend of mine the result was--well, it was not exactly what I bargained +for." + +"What do you mean?" asked Clancey. + +"What I mean is that I introduced Alistair Ramsey to her in Paris, with +the result that I have never seen her since until yesterday." + +Clancey did not immediately reply, but a curious expression overspread +his face. "Alistair Ramsey," he murmured, and then again, "Alistair +Ramsey, dear me!" + +Bobby looked at him wonderingly. Clancey laughed lightly. + +"That reminds me," he said. "I inquired about your commission at the War +Office. You know, I suppose, that Alistair Ramsey is private secretary to +Sir Archibald Fellowes. Old Fellowes decides upon all commissions, +and your charming friend, Mr. Ramsey, informed him you were not a fit +person to wear his Majesty's uniform." + +Bobby stared. + +"The dirty dog!" he exclaimed. "Well, I'm damned! That at the last, after +everything!" + +"Yes, just that," remarked Clancey. "So you introduced him to Madame de +Corantin?" + +"Not because I wanted to," replied Bobby. + +"And she has been with him ever since?" + +"Oh, I don't know that." + +"But she was with him last night at the Savoy?" + +"Yes. Damn him! I must be off now. Clancey, really, I'm awfully obliged +to you." + +"Well, may I come to Claridge's tomorrow? I promise I won't cut you +out--I only want to make her acquaintance. She must be such a charming +woman." + +"All right. Look in after lunch," Bobby answered, and, seizing the huge +parcel which contained his flowers, he led the way out of the room and +thence out of the flat to the cab which was waiting for him. + +Had Bobby looked out of the window of that cab he would have been +surprised. Clancey was running down the street towards Piccadilly as fast +as his legs could carry him. + + * * * * * + +Another shock was in store for poor Bobby. Jumping out of his taxi, he +presented himself to the hall-porter, armed with his huge paper parcel +from the florist. + +"For Madame de Corantin," he said. + +The porter looked at him; he knew him well and accepted the offering +hesitatingly. + +"For Madame de Corantin, you said, sir?" + +"Yes," said Bobby. + +"Madame de Corantin left early this afternoon, Mr. Froelich." + +For a moment Bobby was speechless. + +"Left?" he gasped. "Are you sure?" + +"I'm perfectly certain, sir." + +"But surely she is coming back again, isn't she? Why, I'm lunching with +her to-morrow." + +The porter looked at him in surprise. + +"Take a seat for a moment, sir, and I'll go and inquire, though to the +best of my belief she took all her luggage with her." + +In a moment the man came back. + +"Yes, sir, she and her maid and all her luggage left about two o'clock. +There were two cars; one was brought by a gentleman." + +Bobby pulled himself together. + +"Ah! Mr. Alistair Ramsey, I suppose?" He tried to put indifference into +his voice. + +"Yes, sir, I think it was Mr. Alistair Ramsey." + +Bobby walked out of the hotel. "Oh, damn him, damn him, damn him!" he +muttered as he threw himself into a cab. + +"Go to Down Street." + +Arrived at his rooms, Bobby cast his poor flowers into a corner, and, +flinging himself on to a sofa, buried his face in his hands. What was the +meaning of it, and how could she be so cruel as to play the same trick on +him again? What was the object of telling him to come and see her? It +would have been by far kinder to ignore him when she saw him at the +Savoy. And yet even now Bobby was not resentful. He was bewildered, +but far more was he humiliated at the thought of Ramsey's triumph. There +must surely be some explanation. She had greeted him so kindly; she had +shown such evident pleasure at seeing him again. Why should she have +acted that part? There was no object in it. Something must have happened, +something quite outside the range of ordinary events. As he had done a +hundred times, Bobby returned on the past and tried to piece together +consecutively all the incidents since his first meeting with Madame de +Corantin. Gradually an impression formed itself in his mind that what at +first had seemed an attractive mystery was something deeper than he had +imagined. Gradually there spread over him a vague sensation of +discomfort, of apprehension even. Still, when he thought about her it +seemed impossible to connect anything sinister with a personality so +charming, with a disposition so amiable. No, it was beyond him; it +was useless his attempting to puzzle out the problem. Only time could +explain it. As they had met at the Savoy, so sooner or later they would +meet again. He knew it was useless to try and forget her; that was +impossible, but, in the meantime, what? + +Suddenly his reflections were interrupted. Some one was ringing the bell +at the entrance. Bobby went to the door. Two men were standing +outside--strangers to him. + +"Are you Mr. Froelich?" one of them asked. + +"Yes," answered Bobby. "Why? What do you want?" + +"I should like to speak to you a moment." + +"What about?" Bobby eyed them suspiciously. + +"I am from Scotland Yard, Mr. Froelich. We'd better go inside to talk." + +Bobby, quite bewildered, led them into his sitting-room, and shut the +door. + +"My name is Inspector Groombridge," said the spokesman of the two. "I +have been instructed to place you under arrest." + +"Me! Under arrest? What on earth have I done? There must be some +mistake." + +Bobby was horrified. + +"Those are my instructions, Mr. Froelich, and I am afraid I must ask you +to come with me. My colleague, Sub-inspector Dane, is to remain here in +possession, and I am afraid I must ask you to hand him your keys." + +"My keys?" Bobby felt in his pockets. "What sort of keys do you mean?" He +pulled a gold chain out of his pocket to which were attached his latchkey +and a few others. He held them in his hand, and ticked them off one by +one mechanically. "This is the key of the cupboard where I keep my cigars +and liqueurs; this is the key of my dispatch-box. I don't think I've got +anything else locked up." + +"Have you no safe, no desk or other receptacle where you keep your +papers, Mr. Froelich--documents of any kind?" + +"Papers--documents?" ejaculated Bobby. "No, I haven't got any documents +or papers. What do you mean?" + +"Well, I'm afraid it will be the duty of Sub-inspector Dane to search +your apartment, Mr. Froelich, and I want to save you from having anything +broken open if it can be avoided." + +"There is nothing to break open. I don't lock anything up except cigars +and things of that kind, and as to my dispatch-box, there's not much +there either. I hardly know what there is--I haven't looked inside it for +ever so long. There may be a few private letters." + +"What sort of letters?" asked the inspector. + +To Bobby this sounded menacing. + +"Oh, I don't know; perhaps there may be one or two--well, what shall I +call them?--love letters, I suppose. Anyhow, here are the keys." He +handed them over to the other man as he spoke. + +"Call a cab." The inspector spoke to his subordinate. + +"I say," asked Bobby apprehensively, "am I going to be locked up?" + +The inspector hesitated slightly. Bobby's innocence seemed to strike him. +He was not the sort of person he was used to arresting. + +"I am afraid it's more than likely, Mr. Froelich." + +"Can't I change my clothes?" queried Bobby. "You see, I've got on evening +dress, and I suppose I shan't have a chance of getting out of it." + +The inspector reflected a moment. + +"Oh yes, Mr. Froelich. I don't see why you should not change, but I'm +afraid I must ask you to let me accompany you." + +"Well, I'm--D'you think I'm going to try and escape?" + +"Oh, I don't say that, Mr. Froelich, but sometimes things happen on these +occasions, and it's my duty to be on the safe side. I'm sorry to +inconvenience you." + +"Come on in, then." Bobby led the way into his dressing-room, and in a +few minutes he was rolling off with his strange companion to some +destination unknown. + +After the most uncomfortable night Bobby had ever spent in his life he +was escorted next morning by Sub-inspector Dane to Scotland Yard. He was +ushered into a waiting-room, and there he sat with the inspector, waiting +until he should be summoned before the Assistant Commissioner. Had he +been able to see what was going on in the adjoining room, he would have +been exceedingly surprised. + +The Assistant Commissioner, one of those public servants whose quiet, +unobtrusive manner covers a strong character and a great efficiency, was +sitting at his table talking to Harold Clancey. They were in earnest +consultation. + +"Then I understand, Captain Clancey," said the Assistant Commissioner, +"that this lady has got clear off?" + +Clancey smiled serenely. + +"Oh, rather! Address: Hôtel des Indes, The Hague--quite a comfortable +place and quite an important German espionage centre." + +"I gather that our man was too late." + +"By some hours, I should say," Clancey replied. "You see, we only got the +report in from France quite late. I sent your man to watch her while I +went to see Froelich. I was sure he was all right, but I wanted to +satisfy myself. By the time I reached our place I found the chief in the +deuce of a stew. Your man had got back, and reported that she'd gone. +They'd kicked up the devil's delight at Headquarters, and the chief was +out for blood. He was determined to arrest somebody, and I suggested +Ramsey, but he got purple in the face and told me he'd instructed your +people to bag Froelich. I thought this quite idiotic, but it relieved +the chief's feelings, and it was too late to do anything sensible. We +knew the ship she took; of course, she was much too clever to sail under +the English flag. Naturally we wirelessed, but they won't dare touch her. +After that last row it's hands off these Dutchmen." + +"And the view of your department, Captain Clancey, is that it's useless +for us to detain Mr. Froelich?" + +"Absolutely useless. I can swear to it. As I told you, I don't know him +well, but I know all about him, and I am satisfied of his complete +innocence, and that he is entirely unaware of Madame de Corantin's +objects and activities." + +"Then what do you propose that we should do, Captain Clancey?" + +"I propose nothing at all, Mr. Crane." + +"What, after her getting those passports?" + +Clancey twisted his moustache. + +"That's a matter which concerns spheres altogether over my head, Mr. +Crane." + +"But Mr. Ramsey says that it's entirely owing to Mr. Froelich's +introduction that he provided the lady with passports, that he'd known +her through him, and having been a friend of Mr. Froelich for many years, +he had implicitly trusted him. He was here only a few minutes before you +came, and he told me that there was no doubt at all but that he had been +the victim of a conspiracy between Froelich and this Madame de Corantin. +He admitted that he ought to have been on his guard, considering that Mr. +Froelich's name was German, and of course it was natural that he would +have German sympathies." + +"Um! And what do you think, Mr. Crane?" + +The Assistant Commissioner was silent for a moment. + +"You see, I don't know Mr. Froelich," he said. + +"But you do know Mr. Ramsey," replied Clancey. + +"Not well." + +"What about his chief? You know him well enough. Why not ask him?" + +The Assistant Commissioner's answer was to throw a note across the table +to his questioner. It ran as follows-- + + +WAR OFFICE. + +DEAR MR. CRANE,-- + +I desire you to take the most rigorous measures without fear or favour +regarding this matter of the passports accorded to Madame de Corantin. +There has been a disgraceful dereliction of duty, and I intend to make an +example of the offender, whoever he may be. + +Yours very truly, + +ARCHIBALD FELLOWES. + + +Clancey whistled. + +"That looks rather awkward for Master Alistair." + +There was a knock on the door. It was Inspector Groombridge. + +"Excuse me, sir, my man has just brought this. It was delivered by a +stranger to the hall-porter of the building where Mr. Froelich occupies a +flat." He handed a letter to the Assistant Commissioner, who read it +slowly and without comment passed it to Clancey. Clancey, read it +through, smiled, and passed it back. + +"I think that settles it," he remarked, "and with your kind permission I +will now depart." + +Nodding farewell to the Assistant Commissioner, Clancey withdrew by the +private exit opposite to the one which led into the room where Bobby was +miserably awaiting his fate. + +"Show Mr. Froelich in, Inspector Groombridge, and, by the way, I hope you +have treated him with courtesy." + +The inspector cleared his throat. + +"Oh, I think so, sir. Of course, it's rather difficult in these cases to +make a gentleman comfortable, but I gave him a shake-down in my own +private room for the night and sent a man for his toilet things and so on +in the morning." + +"Very well, Inspector; show him in at once." + +Bobby came into the room; his expression was more bewildered than +apprehensive. The Assistant Commissioner held out his hand, which Bobby +took with a look of surprise. + +"Do sit down, Mr. Froelich. I am so sorry to have troubled you. You will, +I am sure, understand that in times like these one has to be very +careful, and your acquaintance with Madame de Corantin--" + +"Madame de Corantin!" Bobby, exclaimed. "What in the world--" + +"One moment, Mr. Froelich. I'll try and explain it to you. Madame de +Corantin is known to us. She is a very clever emissary of the German +Government, and she has succeeded in baffling us entirely up till now +because by a chain of coincidences there has been no one who could +identify her on the various occasions that she has been in England. +Thanks to her influential connections, she has succeeded in obtaining +information of considerable value, and has also been enabled to elude +both the French authorities and ourselves. We have reason to believe that +she has secured travelling facilities and passports through her relations +with high Government officials, both French and English, whom she knew +before the War. You will understand, therefore, that your acquaintance +with her was at first sight a suspicious circumstance. I am glad to be +able to tell you, however, that on inquiry we find that you are entirely +innocent of any complicity with her plans, and this result of our +investigations is confirmed by a letter which she apparently addressed +to you." + +Bobby's face had been growing longer and longer as the Assistant +Commissioner proceeded. When Mr. Crane mentioned the letter Bobby could +not restrain an exclamation. + +"A letter?" he asked excitedly. "What letter?" + +"This," said the Assistant Commissioner, handing him the note that +Clancey and he had previously seen. + +Bobby took it eagerly and read-- + + +DEAR BOBBY, MY FRIEND,-- + +Once more I fear I am causing you unhappiness. I cannot explain +everything, but I can at least tell you this. When I prevailed upon you +to introduce Mr. Ramsey to me, so much against your will, I had an +object. This object was very far from being a desire for Mr. Ramsey's +acquaintance as you supposed, for I am still, and always shall be, +devoted to that former friend of whom I told you. His name, I may now +tell you, is Prince von Waldheim und Schlangenfurst. When I came to +London I had hoped to have remained long enough to see you again, but I +had no alternative but to go at a moment's notice. To have remained would +have been dangerous. + +This letter will be delivered to you by a person whom I can trust. By the +time you get it I shall be in Holland. + +Some day when peace is restored I hope we may meet, and it will give me +great pleasure to see you and introduce you to Prince von Waldheim, who +esteems loyalty as I do. + +As to Mr. Ramsey I do not know which I despise most--his vanity or his +stupidity. + +With every good wish, + +Believe me, + +Always sincerely and gratefully yours, + +FRANCINE DE CORANTIN. + + +As Bobby finished the letter he looked up and met the eyes of the +Assistant Commissioner who rose from his chair. + +"I need not detain you, Mr. Froelich; it only remains for me to apologize +for any trouble I may have given you. I must ask you to be kind enough to +lend me this letter, which, however, I shall send on to you in a few +days." + +Bobby returned to his flat, relieved but chastened. It was not long +before he received the commission he coveted. The same Gazette contained +two announcements: one that a commission as lieutenant had been granted +to Mr. J. Froelich, the other that his Majesty had no further use for the +services of Mr. Alistair Ramsey. + + + + +VI. A WAR VICTIM + +Gilbert Baxendale is at fifty what people call "a nice-looking man." He +hardly seems any older than he did ten years ago, except that he is +rather stouter below the belt, and that when he takes off his hat one +notices that he is getting a little bald. His skin is pink and +unwrinkled, and his hair and moustache are so light that one does not +notice whether they are turning grey or not, and he looks as spruce as +ever. Baxendale always has been particular about his appearance, and +he is never so pleased as when you ask him the name of his tailor. But +his reply in that case is deprecating, implying that he doesn't think +very much of him, do you? which is intended to draw further reassurance +and compliment. On the other hand, if, inspired by the lustre of their +beautiful polish, you should inquire where he gets his boots, his +expression changes. Although boots are about as near a hobby as he has +ever got, he is distressed about the shape of his feet, and says that his +corns give him a lot of trouble. But he likes to talk about boots, and a +recurring subject of conversation with him is the difficulty of finding a +man who really understands doing them properly. He knows a great deal +about blacking and brushes, and is no mean authority on the art of boning +or polishing or varnishing refractory footgear of all kinds. To look at +him one would think Baxendale has never had a day's illness in his life, +but as a matter of fact he has never been well since any one can +remember. He has always suffered from what one may call ailments, and +when one saw him at the club or in Bond Street he would tell you he was +not quite the thing--he was run down or had lumbago or a bit of a chill +on the liver. + +Baxendale is very particular about cooking. He used to complain a good +deal about the food at the club, but after his marriage he said it had +improved, which no one could understand, as the kitchen staff has not +been changed for twenty years. Freddy Catchpole said that once when he +dined with them Mrs. Baxendale asked him about the club cook, because +Gilbert was very dissatisfied with theirs. Servants worried Baxendale +a great deal after he got married. He said they almost made him long for +his bachelor days, when he did not know what domestic cares were. + +The Baxendales live in one of those new, well-built houses in the +neighbourhood of Grosvenor Square. It was some time before Baxendale +could make up his mind to buy the lease of it. For a year or two he tried +taking furnished houses alternately in the country and in town. Being a +cautious man, he wanted to give both a good trial, but his wife finally +made up his mind for him. She took no end of trouble in decorating and +furnishing their house in some antique style. At first Baxendale seemed +to be pleased. Every now and then he told men at the club how clever she +was at picking up bargains; but after a time he got gloomy when one asked +how the house was getting on. He said he had met a man who had made a +collection of antiques, and when he wanted to sell them he found they +were all shams, and it nearly ruined him. + +After it was all finished the Baxendales gave a house-warming party. +Peter Knott said afterwards that Baxendale took him aside and confided to +him that he wasn't at all pleased with the house. It faced west instead +of south, and the drawing-room was so large one could never buy enough +furniture to put in it, whereas his smoking-room was a rotten little hole +you couldn't swing a cat in. Besides, it really was a mistake living in +town; the country was much better for the health and less expensive on +the whole, even if you had shooting and entertained a good deal. He had +a great mind to sell the lease if he could get a good offer. Then he +would have a flat just to run up to when he wanted to stay in town for a +week at a time and do the theatres. + +The Baxendales have no children, and apparently no nephews, nieces, nor +other youthful belongings in whom they take any special interest. One day +Peter Knott met Baxendale playing golf with a young man whom he +introduced to him as his nephew, Dick Barnard, but the youth did not +reappear on any other occasion, and Peter remembers that Baxendale told +him in confidence that the boy put on side and was cheeky. + +Baxendale always tells things in confidence to people, and occasionally +they happen to meet and compare notes; in this way they sometimes get to +know what Baxendale thinks about them, and this does not add to his +popularity. Baxendale retired from business after his marriage, and +invested his capital as remuneratively as security permitted. He came to +the conclusion that as his wife's income, added to his own, provided all +the money they needed, there was no object in boring himself by going to +the City. After he gave up business, every week when in town Baxendale +had certain obligations which filled up his time agreeably for him. For +instance, he looked over the share list every morning to see that his and +Mrs. Baxendale's investments were all right. He liked a pleasant object +for a walk, so at least once a week he made a point of fetching his +passbook from the bank. One day Freddy Catchpole met him just as he was +coming out, and he said he was awfully upset about his quarter's balance, +which had never been so low before. Freddy told him he had never had a +balance at the end of a quarter in his life, and Baxendale replied that, +at all events, that saved him anxiety about investing it. + +There used to be lots of other ways in which Baxendale passed his time. +There was always something or other to order at his tailor's or his +shirtmaker's. He was never extravagant in these matters, but when he +decided to get something he took time and trouble over it, and would go +several times to try things on. He used to say that in this way he got +quite a lot of exercise. On Saturdays and Sundays he and his wife +sometimes motored down to play golf at one or the other of their clubs. +Baxendale said since his marriage he was off his game, and it was really +no fun playing with a woman. Mrs. Baxendale asked Peter Knott's advice +about it. She said it was such a pity Gilbert lost his temper and never +would finish the round when she was one up, as the exercise really was +good for him. During the racing season Baxendale generally managed to +avoid golf and go down to Sandown or Kempton or Gatwick instead; he said +he got just as much air and exercise there, and there was always a chance +of paying your expenses. Sometimes he succeeded, as he was very careful; +but whenever he failed he would say he'd chuck it up altogether, the game +wasn't worth the candle. + +In the winter Baxendale used at one time to take a shoot near London, but +he gave it up because he got bored with looking after it and arranging +parties. He said he was sick of being sponged on by men who never asked +him back. + +He complained a good deal about the snobbishness of people generally. +Somebody was always cutting or ignoring him, and then "look at the sort +of men that one meets nowadays; fellows whose fathers keep shops and +haven't an 'h' in their alphabets." He couldn't understand how people +could stand the cads that went about; yet you could go into the Ritz +or the Carlton and see the Countess of Daventry and Lady FitzStuart +lunching and dining with "bounders like that fellow Clutterbuck." + +After his marriage Baxendale became absorbed more and more by his wife's +family. He seemed to be impressed especially by old Sir Robert and Jack +Barnard, his wife's uncle and brother. Whatever Jack did interested +Baxendale, and whatever he said Baxendale repeated in confidence to most +of his acquaintances. Of course Jack is a romancer, but Baxendale never +knows whether to believe him or not, and Jack, being aware of this, +concocts imposing fairy tales for Baxendale's benefit. Sir Robert is +supposed to be very rich, and the amount of his fortune and what he is +going to do with it are matters of deep concern to Baxendale, who made a +habit of calling on him daily and constantly inviting him to dinner. He +told Peter Knott he was sorry for the old man being so lonely, and that +his wife was his favourite niece and much attached to him; but Jack +declared that his uncle was horribly mean, and only tolerated Baxendale +because he could get dinner at his house for nothing. + +At the beginning of the War Baxendale began complaining about his nerves. +Somehow he didn't enjoy his food and couldn't get a proper night's sleep. +He'd tried Benger's Food last thing at night and Quaker Oats for +breakfast, but nothing seemed to do him any good. + +The curious part of Baxendale's illness was that he continued to look +perfectly well, but he seemed to get offended if people said so; what +really touched him was pity. There's a man at the club called Funkelstein +whom everybody supposed was a German, but now he says he's Dutch. Just +after the War broke out, Baxendale told every one confidentially he was a +spy, but, to our surprise, they suddenly became quite friendly. It seemed +that Funkelstein also suffered from nerves. Baxendale said he was most +sympathetic to him personally, and alluded to him as "poor Funkelstein." +As time went on Baxendale's nerves grew worse, and it was thought he must +have been badly hit financially by the War, till Peter Knott told us that +he had invested most of his wife's and his own money in shipping +companies and coal-mine debentures which had done nothing but rise ever +since the War began. On the strength of this satisfactory information +Baxendale was occasionally approached for subscriptions; but his response +was generally evasive, or the amount offered so minute that he felt +compelled to explain it by expressing his apprehensions about new +taxation and the insane extravagance of the Government. + +After a time Baxendale told us he could hardly bear to open a paper; he +never knew what he might read next, and he felt he could not stand any +more shocks. That made us suppose he had a brother or some near relative +at the Front, and for some days we were rather apologetic in our attitude +towards him, as, what with the War and our own anxieties, we had shown +some indifference to Baxendale's nerves. + +But one day Jack Barnard turned up as a major in khaki, and said +something so rude to his brother-in-law, who was sitting in the corner +with Funkelstein, that the latter turned pale and left the room +hurriedly. It appeared afterwards that Jack had got his back up against +"that blighter Gilbert" because he hadn't done a thing for Dick, who had +been at Sandhurst, and was now with his regiment in France. "It wasn't as +though the selfish swine had kids of his own or some one else's whom he +cared about. Not a soul. Sickening, I call it. He didn't even say +good-bye to him or ask after him." + + * * * * * + +Later on Baxendale developed a habit of questioning every one as to what +they were doing. On one occasion he asked Postlethwaite, who runs a +convalescent home at Margate, if there was anything he could do down +there. Postlethwaite suggested that he might drive wounded soldiers down +to Margate in his car if he liked. Baxendale said he'd think it over, but +when Postlethwaite had gone he asked Peter Knott in confidence if he +didn't think it was taking advantage of people to mess up their cars like +that. + +Another time he tackled old Colonel Bridge, who had been up all night +doing special constable duty, and was not in the sweetest of tempers. +When Baxendale asked him what he was doing he told him he'd better come +round to the police-station at three the next morning and see for +himself. + +Baxendale has not turned up at the club since, and we were all hoping he +had found suitable employment. This happens to nearly every one sooner or +later except to us seniors. But it had not happened to Baxendale; for +Freddy Catchpole, who has managed to get a job at the War Office, dined +one evening with Mrs. Baxendale, and she told him poor Gilbert had got so +bad with his nerves that he had to go to a nursing-home in the country to +take a cure. And there, for all I know, he will stay till the War is +over. + + + + +VII. DULCE ET DECORUM + +David Saunderson lived on the top floor of one of the few lofty buildings +in Chelsea, and as his years increased, the ascent of the five flights of +stairs became a serious matter. His heart was none too sound, and the +three minutes he once needed to reach his attic from the ground floor had +already become five when the War began. + +With the first shock of battles the emaciated remains of his bedridden +brother were borne down the steep stairs and out of the little flat he +had not left for the last five years of his life. + +The two had lived together since Philip had returned from India as a man +of fifty, with the reasonable hope of enjoying his pensioned retirement. +Philip had spent his energy freely in the Indian Civil Service, and the +two middle-aged brothers, either too poor to marry, too shy, or both, +determined to combine resources with companionship and keep house +together. + +For a time they sailed contentedly downstream. Philip's public spirit and +industrious habits would not permit of what he called "a life of indolent +ease." He rose early and put in a good eight hours' day at various unpaid +labours. He became churchwarden of the parish, joined the vestry, and was +a much valued unit of that obscure element in the population which does a +great part of the public work for which individuals of a less modest type +get the recognition. + +David earned his living as a journalist and literary hack. He had never +done or been anything else in his life, although to his small circle he +loved, in a guileless way, to convey the impression that his youthful +performances had been of no little brilliance. + +He would mention the names of the celebrated editors by whom he had been +employed as literary or dramatic critic, and was never tired of +eulogizing these and other lettered heroes for whom he had slaved in the +distant past. He insisted on the appreciation that these forgotten lions +had shown of his work; but, however that might be, its manifestation had +certainly never been translated into terms of cash, for within no one's +memory had David's pecuniary resources been other than exiguous. + +He was a great lover of the Arts, but his tastes were catholic and he +worshipped at many shrines. He had no great patience with those who +admire the modern to the exclusion of the old, or whose allegiance to one +school precludes acceptance of another. He held his arms wide open and +embraced Art in all its manifestations. + +He was a great hero-worshipper; there was no sort of achievement he did +not admire, but he had his special favourites; generally these were +successful playwrights or novelists whose work he revised for publication +at a minimum rate and whose additional recognition, in the form of a back +seat for a first night or a signed presentation copy, produced in him a +quite inordinate gratitude. + +David Saunderson was the embodiment of ponderousness; he spoke as slowly +as he moved his cumbersome limbs. So gradual were his mental processes +that his friends forbore to ask him questions, knowing that they would +not have time to wait for his replies. For these reasons the agile in +body and mind avoided encounters with him, but if he chanced to meet them +where there was no escape they would evade him by cunning or invent +transparent excuses which only one so artless as he would have believed. + +Now and then he paid visits to old friends who were sometimes caught +unawares. Then he would settle his huge bulk in an arm-chair, and his +head, bald except for a fringe of grey hair about the ears, seemed to +sink into his chest, upon which the bearded chin reposed as though the +whole affair were too heavy to support. At such times he gave one the +impression of a massive fixture which could be about as easily moved as a +grand piano, and his hosts would resign themselves to their fate. + +If any one had the temerity to provoke him to discussion, he would wait +patiently for an opening, and once he secured it, would maintain his +opinion steadily, the even, dispassionate voice slowly wearing down all +opposition. + +He was not without humour and a certain shrewdness in judging men and +things, and would smile tolerantly when views were advanced with which he +disagreed. It was not difficult to make merry at his expense, for he +suspected no one, and only those who spoke ill of their neighbours +disturbed his equanimity. Towards cynics his attitude was compassionate. + +Directly war broke out David enrolled himself in the special volunteer +corps of artists raised by an eminent Academician. He took his duties +very seriously, and was at great pains to master the intricacies of +squad-drill. He never admitted that some of the exercises, especially the +one that consists in lying on the ground face downwards and raising +yourself several times in succession by your arms, were trying to a man +of his weight and proportions, but about the time he was beginning to +pride himself on his military proficiency Philip's death occurred. He +said little about it and quietly occupied himself with the funeral and +with settling his dead brother's small affairs, but the battalion were +little surprised when shortly afterwards his resignation followed on +medical grounds. + +The Saundersons were connected with a family of some distinction, the +head of which, knowing that Philip's pension died with him and that +David's earnings were smaller than ever since the War, would gladly have +offered him some pecuniary assistance. But David's pride equalled his +modesty, and Peter Knott had to be charged with the mission of +approaching him. + +One afternoon Peter found David in his attic going through his dead +brother's papers and smoking a pipe. Peter knew his man too well to +attempt direct interrogation. He felt his way by inquiries as to the +general situation of Art, and David was soon enlarging on the merits +of sundry unknown but gifted painters and craftsmen whose work he hoped +Peter might bring to the notice of his wealthy friends. + +"The poor fellows are starving, Knott," he said in his leisurely way as +he raised himself painfully from his chair and walked heavily to a corner +where lay a portfolio. + +Every piece of furniture in the small sitting-room was littered with a +heterogeneous collection of manuscripts and books; the latter were piled +up everywhere. David slowly removed some from a table and laid the folio +upon it. + +"Now, here's--a charming--etching." He had a way of saying a word or two +and then pausing as though to take breath, which demanded great patience +of a listener. + +Peter stood by him and examined it, David meanwhile puffing at his pipe. + +"The man--who did that--is one of our best line engravers--his name is +Macmanus--he's dreadfully hard up--look at this." + +He held another before his visitor. + +"That's by Plimsoll--a silver point--isn't it a beautiful thing?" + +"Delightful," replied Peter. + +"Well, do you know--Knott--that--" David's pipe had gone out. He moved +slowly towards his chair and began looking for the matches. "Do you know, +Plimsoll is one of the most gifted"--he was holding a match to his pipe +as he spoke--"gifted young artists in the country--and two days +ago--he--was literally hungry--" David took his pipe from his mouth and +looked at Peter to see the effect of his words. + +"It's very sad, very"--Peter Knott's tone was sympathetic--"but after +all, they're young; they could enlist, couldn't they?" + +David sat down in his chair and pulled at his pipe reflectively before +answering. + +"They're--neither of them--strong, Knott. They'd--be laid up in a week." + +"Um--hard luck that," Peter Knott agreed. "But what's to be done? +Everybody's in the same boat. The writers now, I wager they're just as +badly hit, aren't they?" + +"That depends--" David paused, and Peter gave him time to finish his +sentence. "The occasional--er--contributors--are having a bad time--but +the regular journalists--the people on the staffs--are all right--of +course I know cases--there's a man called--er, let me see--I've got a +letter from him somewhere--Wyatt's his name--now, he's--" David's huge +body began to rise again gradually. Peter Knott stopped him. + +"By the way," he remarked briskly, "I saw your friend Seaford yesterday." + +David had subsided, and once more began relighting his pipe; he looked up +at the name. + +"Frank Seaford--oh, did you? How is he? I haven't seen him for some +time--" + +"So I gathered," Peter remarked dryly. "He seems to be getting on very +well since Ringsmith took him up." + +"Ah! Ringsmith's right. He's a beautiful--artist. Did you--see--" + +Peter interrupted. "I think I've seen all Seaford's work. Anyhow he owes +his recognition entirely to you. I introduced him to Ringsmith entirely +on your recommendation two years ago. He's sold a lot of pictures during +that time. When did you see him last, Saunderson?" + +David stroked his beard thoughtfully. + +"Let me see--some time before the War--it must have been--more than a +year ago." + +"Not very grateful," Peter could not help rapping out. + +David stopped smoking, and seemed to rouse himself. + +"You're quite wrong, Knott. He sent me--that exquisite study--on the wall +yonder." He pointed as he spoke to a small drawing in water colours. + +Peter got up, looked at it a moment, and shrugged his shoulders. + +"If you're satisfied, I've got nothing to say." + +"Satisfied--of course I'm satisfied--" A tolerant, almost condescending +smile stole over David's eyes and mouth. "You don't understand--artists, +Knott." + +"Perhaps not, perhaps not." Knott pulled out his watch. "Anything doing +in your own line, Saunderson?" he asked in a tone of careful +indifference. + +David puffed at his pipe. + +"I'm not very busy--but--you know--that's rather a good thing--now I'm a +special constable." + +Peter Knott's single eyeglass wandered over the unwieldy frame sitting +opposite him. + +"A special constable?" he echoed. + +David puffed complacently. + +"Sergeant," he replied. + +Peter Knott dropped his glass. + +"Really, you know, Saunderson. For a man at your time of life, and +obliged to work for his living, it's--" He hesitated. "Well, you oughtn't +to do it." + +David smiled in a superior way. + +"That's just where--you're wrong--Knott--we relieve the--younger +men--that's our job--and I'm proud to--" + +Peter Knott's kindly old eyes twinkled at the thought of David tackling a +lusty cracksman, twinkled and then became grave. + +"Supposing you get laid up, injured in some way?" he asked. + +"We don't think about that." David's expression was serene. "I go +on--duty at--two--very quiet then--lovely it is--on fine nights--when +I've been working--to get out--into the cool air--" + +As David spoke Peter Knott pulled out his watch again and then got up. + +"I saw your cousin Herbert a few days ago, Saunderson. He said he hadn't +seen you for a long time, wondered whether you'd go down to Rendlesham +for a few weeks. He wants a catalogue of his prints, and there are some +old manuscripts he would like your opinion about. I'm going down this +week-end. What shall I tell him?" + +David put down his pipe. + +"Tell him--I'm much obliged--later on perhaps--I can't--leave my +duties--while these Zeppelin scares last. They need experienced +men--one doesn't know what--may happen." He had got on his feet and had +gradually reached the door of the tiny flat. "Good-bye, Knott," he said +as he took the other's hand. "Don't forget--about Macmanus +and--Plimsoll--" + +His visitor was two flights below when David called to him-- + +"If you happen--to hear of--a secretaryship--Wyatt's--" + +But by the time he got the words out Peter Knott was out of hearing. + +In due course Peter Knott reported the result of his visit to Sir Herbert +Saunderson. The latter, a kindly man with an income barely enough for the +responsibilities a large family entailed on him, took counsel with his +old friend as to what could be done next. There was reason for believing +that David's stolid silence regarding his own concerns concealed a +general impecuniousness quite as pronounced as that of the artist friends +whose cause he pleaded. + +"Why not send him the prints with a cheque on account and say you need +the catalogue soon, as you may make up your mind to sell them?" + +"A capital idea," replied the other, and the suggestion was promptly +carried into effect. + + * * * * * + +One winter morning, some months afterwards, a seedy-looking individual +called at Portland Place with a typewritten letter, requiring an answer. + +Sir Herbert Saunderson, busy reading and signing letters, tossed it over +to his secretary. The young lady read it aloud according to rule. + + +DEAR HERBERT [it ran],-- + +I have finished the catalogue, but there are one or two details which I +should like to settle before sending it to the printers. My friend Mr. +Wyatt, who has been kindly helping me with the work since my little +accident, will explain the different points to you and take your +instructions, I am so sorry I can't come myself, but Mr. Wyatt is +thoroughly competent and I can strongly recommend him if you have any +other work of an analogous character. + +Yours ever, + +D.S. + + +The one ear with which Sir Herbert Saunderson was listening while he went +on signing the papers before him had caught part though not all of the +letter. + +"Did I hear the word 'accident,' Miss Milsome?" he asked, looking up. + +"Yes, Sir Herbert." + +"How did it happen? Let's have a look." + +The busy man glanced through it. + +"Send for Mr. Wyatt, please." + +The seedy little man entered and was asked courteously to seat himself. + +"What has happened to my cousin?" asked Sir Herbert. + +Mr. Wyatt seemed embarrassed by the question. + +"The fact is, Sir Herbert," he began hesitatingly, "Mr. Saunderson didn't +want much said about that. His great wish is that I should be given +certain necessary data regarding the catalogue, but to tell you the +truth--" + +Mr. Wyatt stopped. There was a note of anxiety in his pleasant, +cultivated voice. + +Sir Herbert Saunderson and Miss Milsome exchanged glances. + +"Pray don't hesitate to tell me if anything is wrong with my cousin, +Mr.--er--" + +"Wyatt," added Miss Milsome softly. + +"I'm afraid he's rather bad." + +The little man looked at Miss Milsome as he spoke. Her expression was +sympathetic, and he continued-- + +"You know, I believe, that he has been a special constable?" + +Sir Herbert Saunderson nodded. + +"As sergeant, he had charge of the arrangements for reducing the lighting +of the streets in his own district. One evening, about a month ago, he +was returning from duty, when he slipped on a curbstone owing to the +darkness. Fortunately it was close to his own place, and he was able, +though with difficulty, to make his way slowly up to his flat. When I got +there in the morning, at our usual hour for work, he was in great pain. +He had injured his arm and right hand--twisted it in some way so that it +was quite useless--" + +Mr. Wyatt paused. + +"I hope you sent for a doctor?" There was evident apprehension in Sir +Herbert's question. + +"He absolutely refused to have one. He said he was only one of the light +casualties, and that doctors must be spared in these times for important +cases. He gave me quite a lecture about it. The charwoman came in with a +laudanum dressing from the chemist, who, he said, was a friend of his, +and just as good as a doctor." + +"But this is madness--simple madness!" Sir Herbert's voice was agitated. + +"Oh, his hand soon got better," the little man broke in, "and the pain +gradually eased off. In a couple of days he went on working again, but of +course he couldn't write. He joked about it. He seemed to like thinking +he was in a sort of way in the firing line, as though he was slightly +wounded." + +Mr. Wyatt laughed very softly. + +"But I must see to this at once. Miss Milsome, kindly ring up Dr. +Freeman. Tell him I'll call for him." Sir Herbert looked at his table, +covered with papers, and then at his watch. His fine mouth closed firmly. +"Now, at once, as soon as he can be ready." + +Miss Milsome took the telephone from the stand beside her. + +Sir Herbert Saunderson rose hurriedly and rang the bell. + +"The car, at once!" he ordered as the servant entered. + + * * * * * + +"It's his heart I'm afraid of," said Mr. Wyatt. He was sitting on the +front seat of the landaulette, facing Sir Herbert Saunderson and Dr. +Freeman. "I don't think he knows how bad he is." + +They were already in Chelsea. + +"I think it will be better if Mr. Wyatt and I go up together first," the +doctor suggested as they arrived at the door. "If his heart is weak, a +sudden emotion might be injurious." + +"I quite agree," Sir Herbert replied. "In fact, you need not mention my +presence. I only want to know your opinion. Now that he will be in good +hands I shall feel relieved." + +The doctor jumped out. Sir Herbert detained the other an instant. + +"Please keep me informed, Mr. Wyatt. I'm very much indebted to you for +telling me about this and for your care of my cousin." + +Mr. Wyatt acknowledged the courteous utterance with a deprecating gesture +as they shook hands and followed quickly after the doctor, who was +proceeding slowly up the steep staircase. + + * * * * * + +Sir Herbert Saunderson buried himself in _The Times_, always placed +in his car. Suddenly he was disturbed. Mr. Wyatt, pale and hatless, stood +on the pavement. + +"We were too late!" He uttered the words in a whisper, which ended in a +gulp. + +The awed face told its own tale. Sir Herbert got out of his car and +followed him without a word. + +At the bedside the three men stood silently, reverently looking down on +David Saunderson. + +On his face that happy, superior smile seemed to say to them: "What a +lucky fellow I am to have the best of it like this--and Wyatt provided +for, too!" + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of War-time Silhouettes, by Stephen Hudson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR-TIME SILHOUETTES *** + +***** This file should be named 8138-8.txt or 8138-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/1/3/8138/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Marlo Dianne, Charles Franks and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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